{"id":18105,"date":"2018-11-27T13:00:24","date_gmt":"2018-11-27T21:00:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/community.nrs.com\/?p=18105"},"modified":"2019-04-01T16:14:49","modified_gmt":"2019-04-01T23:14:49","slug":"one-last-surf","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2018\/11\/27\/one-last-surf\/","title":{"rendered":"One Last Surf"},"content":{"rendered":"

It was October 2007. Fresh out of college with a single season of experience raft guiding on Maine\u2019s Kennebec River, my dad helped me wrap my Dagger Kingpin into a tarp. This tarp had protected the tent I had lived in for the past four months and now it protected my kayak for my first international paddling trip.<\/p>\n

I was headed to Uganda, to the White Nile, to volunteer with Jessie Stone\u2019s NGO Soft Power Health<\/a>.<\/p>\n

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Panorama shot of Bujagali. Photo: Davey O’Hare<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Research for my proposed graduate school thesis, which would look at the economic effects of whitewater tourism, initially drew me to Uganda. I wanted to travel to the Nile River and the Zambezi, as well as Switzerland, New Zealand and Nepal to examine whitewater tourism across countries with different \u201clevels\u201d of development. The Nile piqued my curiosities because of the imminent threat of hydroelectric projects.<\/p>\n

I had planned to go for 10 weeks. I stayed for 12 months.<\/p>\n

As my dad wrapped my boat in a tarp, I sat agonizing over how presumptuous it was to show up on THE NILE with a kayak. I had watched Dynasty<\/em> over and over, and doubts plagued my confidence. I wasn\u2019t a \u2018kayaker.\u2019 Would I be good enough to even paddle any of the rapids? As it turns out, I left that former self behind when I boarded that first flight. Those 12 months transformed me and influenced my life more than most experiences ever had or would.<\/p>\n