{"id":34463,"date":"2024-11-21T00:00:02","date_gmt":"2024-11-21T08:00:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/?p=34463"},"modified":"2024-12-02T08:46:11","modified_gmt":"2024-12-02T16:46:11","slug":"kayaker-with-a-little-k-a-journey-of-self-discovery","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2024\/11\/21\/kayaker-with-a-little-k-a-journey-of-self-discovery\/","title":{"rendered":"“kayaker” with a little “K”: A Journey of Self-Discovery"},"content":{"rendered":"
January 4, 2006.<\/h5>\n

Nine of us woke up on day three of a big water first descent of the Yalong River, western Sichuan province, eastern flank of the Himalayas. We stuffed our cold feet into frozen bricks of shoes, wiggled our hips through crusty skirts, and shook the ice out of our kayaks. Suffering is impermanent. It was still early in the trip, and most of us hadn\u2019t yet gotten the inevitable GI issues that Western China is known for. We drank packets of Nescafe and ate warm tsampa paste (Tibetan ground toasted barley flour and black tea; hold the rancid yak butter, please). As the sun finally reached the deep canyons, we were already miles downstream, probing the unknown, occasionally knocking icicles from our helmets.<\/p>\n

Heavy flow seasons, the 2010s.<\/h5>\n

Many mornings of snapping my skirt on in the barely gray light, sensing friends nearby as we splash downstream, each of us still waking up. So many boofs, so many high-fives. Pulling just the right amount for a pillow landing on the local 30-footer. Afterward, we\u2019d watch the sunrise while drinking coffee at the take-out. On those early morning sessions, I\u2019d roll out of bed at 5:30, be in the water by 6:30, paddle five miles of Class V with some of the best paddlers on the planet, and be in front of my computer working from my home office by 9 am. By any measure, I\u2019d call those mornings a good start to my day.<\/p>\n

July 20th, 2022.<\/h5>\n

I woke up when a nurse bumped my gurney, and the first stab of pain post-surgery found its way through the anesthesia. \u201cThey cut off my thumb,\u201d I remember thinking. I had severed the flexor tendon on the inside of my right thumb while washing dishes the day before. Waking up in the OR recovery room, even though my thumb was still attached to my hand, I knew that it was anything but \u201crepaired.\u201d The surgeons cut a zig-zag through the meat of my palm up the thumb to bring together the two ends of the tendon. I hurt, alone and vulnerable, but the tears that came were from the grief of losing kayaking, of losing this massive part of my Self.<\/p>\n