Years ago when I started this blog my intention was to explain my journey from being a kid raised by two parents from inner city Chicago to living in Bend, pursuing the Bendlandia experience of constant outdoor recreation. That meant that instead of growing up on mountain bikes and in kayaks I hung out at the mall and “cruised the gut” as a teen (Bend kids are SO fortunate!!) Ironically, the real change started after I got into a whole bunch of trouble as a 15-year old, rebelling against my parents, pushing my independence and having “too much fun”. Finally, my actions caught up with me and I was “grounded for life” which ended up being just a month, and the exception was that I could do anything with the family. At the time my dad hadn’t been super present, either traveling or working a ton and subsequently hunkering down after work for some much-needed quiet-time. I have to credit my dad…maybe he realized the gap in our relationship but he showed up then, and the most impactful activity we did together was a private raft trip on the McKenzie river–just the guide, my dad, a family friend and me.

It was a full day trip and it was in the forest on the river. Duh. I explain this because that was kind of foreign to me. It’s not like I’d never been to the forest or seen a river, but this was “out there” and the river was so beautiful, the rapids were really fun and then we got to swim in the river!! The experience of being on/in the river WAS entirely new to me. I had so much fun and I just wanted to do it again.

You might think I fell in love with paddling right there and then, and chose to pursue a life as a guide. Nope. Not even a little. In fact it wasn’t for another 6 years that I’d make my way onto a raft again. But the experience and feeling of joy stayed with me, and when I made the decision to leave Salem a few years later it was Bend and living that lifestyle that I was chasing (finding and working a job at the Inn of the Seventh Mountain, which offered raft trips). From there, the rest is history.

I’ve spent the last 6 months spreading my dad’s ashes at various important places and yesterday it came full circle. I wanted to honor him on Father’s Day at a place so poignant to both he and I. I paddled the McKenzie river and was able to leave a “bit of dad” there. At the takeout, I released his ashes while two butterflies flew around as if to accompany him on the next step of his journey. These butterflies (the yellow and black ones that I lovingly call “yellow-tail swallow tiger somethings”) have special meaning to me and it was an emotional moment–in a very happy way. Be free dad…swim in the river and fly with the butterflies!