Out of the eddy and into the current. My hands were white-knuckled on the oars as my raft slowly swept into the glassy V behind the other gear boat. My heart pounded like thunder as my eyes focused on the churning white waves and the dark rock points surging through. This was Snowhole Rapid on the Lower Salmon River, the one rapid on the stretch from Hammer Creek to Heller Bar that scared me the most.

The line wasn’t hard—enter from river right and a straight diagonal line to river left, avoiding the two holes and arrowhead rock—but for some reason, I’d never been able to run it clean. Every time I entered this rapid, there was a more experienced boater along, guiding me: “Pull back on your left oar.” “Now, hard on your right!”

I always made it through with these directions, but barely missing a rock or a hole. The one time I’d attempted the line without instruction, I still had a mentor on board. When my oar got sucked into the surging hole, she had to grab the handle quickly to keep the whole boat from following.

Wanting that perfect line, I followed close on the tail of the gear boater in front of me. The gap between Arrowhead Rock and the sunken rock in the middle of the line was tight, and I needed to maneuver carefully. A sharp, deep backward pull on my right oar turned my boat towards Arrowhead Rock. The bow bumped the rock lightly; I spun a full three-sixty and shot out into the smooth water below. It was more of a creative line than a clean one, but I had run it without any coaching or help. I couldn’t resist a mini celebration.

For me, the decision to attend college was the choice to start a new chapter of my life. One where I could be around people who had no first impressions of me, in a space where I could become the person I always wanted to be, take advantage of new experiences, and gain a deeper understanding of myself. I decided to make my first step into this new chapter a new experience—rafting—and so I signed up for Vandal Ventures.

It was day three of that first six-day trip when I asked if I could try rowing. Sitting on the metal dry box, my feet dangled, toes barely touching the bottom of the boat. The eleven-foot oars felt like long, awkward extensions of my arms that I did not know how to control. Slowly, each dip of my oar into the water became firmer and more confident.

I will never forget the feeling of rowing that boat through my first rapid. The small waves were little ripples against the big gear boat, but navigating through them felt like one of the greatest accomplishments of my life. I felt almost weightless as the boat went up and down in rhythm, hitting each wave head-on. I didn’t ever want it to end.

Vandal Ventures is the University of Idaho’s outdoor orientation experience for incoming students, both freshman and transfer students. Three trips are offered each summer: one six-day backpacking trip to the Mallard Larkins in the Nez Perce-Clearwater National Forest and two six-day rafting trips along the Lower Salmon River.

While the curriculum for these trips is based on the University’s values, such as respect, integrity, and perseverance, the main purpose of every trip is for each participant to leave with a friend for their first day of school.

A year after my first trip down the river, I was back on the same section of water. Only this time, not only was I rowing a gear boat for a six-day trip, but I also had participants learning to row and read water from me. While this was my ninth rafting trip, it was my first time leading my peers on the river, and the nerves dropping into Snowhole were just as real as when I faced those first ripples.

Relief washed through my body as I rode the smooth water out of Snowhole and caught the eddy right below it. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was only one rapid; I had rowed plenty others, but it was still proof: I was able to make decisions, read the water and correct for my mistakes to keep everyone safe.

Over those six days, with Snowhole behind me, I stepped further into my role as guide. I rowed each rapid, expertly choosing my lines and executing them with knowledge gained from the previous year.

As a trip leader with the University of Idaho Outdoor Program, I’ve run this section of the Lower Salmon River many times. I can load a gear boat rigged to flip, set up a camp kitchen, groover, and now, share the love I’ve found for rafting and the river with others.

With each trip, my confidence grows, as does my awe of the breathtaking landscape and my love for the feeling of dipping those oars into the thick water and pushing forward. There in my arms is strength I didn’t know I possessed. My voice calling commands to this next batch of Vandals—”pull harder on your left oar,” “push on the right!”—sounded foreign and uncertain at first, but not anymore.

I came to college to embrace new experiences and learn about myself, and the river has truly changed me. The expanse of water, sky, and canyon walls with history woven through it in pictographs and hunting plains reminds me of how small I am in comparison to all that is around me.

Each push of my oar that moves my boat forward reminds me that sometimes, trying something new might become one of the most important and defining moments of your life.

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Guest contributor Arielle Bennet grew up along the coast of California, hiking and camping with her family. She came to Idaho to attend the University of Idaho where she is majoring in Fire Ecology and Management with a GIS certificate. She leads trips with the University’s Outdoor Program, is an EMT trainee with the Moscow Volunteer Fire Department and the National Training and Education Officer for the Student Association of Fire Ecology (SAFE). In her free time, she enjoys rafting, backpacking, drawing, and playing guitar.