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The Grand Canyon River Expedition (Day 5 of 14: Rafting the Colorado River)
After a night of wind wreaking havoc on camp, I woke to an eerily calm Grand Canyon morning. The day ahead brought groover etiquette, hike-shaming, an optional whitewater swim, a luxurious river bath—and the alarming discovery that Crystal Rapid wasn’t the only thing I should be worried about.
The Grand Canyon River Expedition (Day 4 of 14: Rafting the Colorado River)
The Grand Canyon tested my nerves, rewarded my courage, and reminded me that the best adventures rarely go according to plan. From cliffside hiking to natural water slides to a windstorm that filled our tent with sand, Day 4 was unforgettable.
The Grand Canyon River Expedition (Day 3 of 14: Rafting the Colorado River)
A scorpion sting. A runaway raft. A guide who answered every question except the one I really wanted answered. By the end of Day 3, Crystal Rapid had slipped from my mind... because tomorrow's hike came with "no-fall zones."
The Grand Canyon River Expedition (Day 2 of 14: Rafting the Colorado River)
By Day 2, peeing in the Colorado River felt surprisingly normal. Seven major rapids, a broken bilge pump, and a campsite we named "Camp We Got This" helped transform a group of strangers into a river family.
The Grand Canyon River Expedition (Day 1 of 14: Rafting the Colorado River)
Fresh from city life, I arrived at Lee's Ferry with an empty inbox, an overactive risk assessment, and exactly zero tent-pitching experience. By the end of Day 1, I'd survived my first major rapid, learned the rules of groover etiquette, and officially embraced life off the grid.
The Grand Canyon River Expedition (Prequel to 14 Days Rafting the Colorado River)
When Garrett first looked down from the rim of the Grand Canyon in 2012, he said, “I want to raft that river someday.” Fourteen years later, an unexpected email, a bucket-list opportunity, and a growing curiosity led this self-described leisure athlete to sign up for a 14-day, 226-mile journey through the heart of the canyon.
Trials in Swimming
That one time in 2012 when I thought I would be a swimmer.
No Cotton Underwear
Preparing for a two-week Grand Canyon rafting trip should have been simple: follow the packing list and buy what I needed. Instead, I found myself overwhelmed by mandatory hats, questionable underwear fabrics, biodegradable soap requirements, and a husband who approached REI like an Olympic event. A story about adventure, procrastination, and discovering that packing may be harder than rafting.
Flatlanders Can (Eventually) Mountain
Back in my flatlander days, Garrett discouraged me from big mountain bike rides in Colorado’s high elevation. Last weekend, after years of acclimating to mountain life in Durango, I took on my first Iron Horse Quarter Horse ride. Turns out… flatlanders can eventually mountain.
Running Through Paris
I pulled my watch off its charger and onto my wrist in sleepy grogginess. Barely awake, I realized I was lying in a bed in Paris. And then I noticed the time.
“Oh, my God! Garrett, it’s 9:05!”
Not a Winter Sports Kind of Person
I could hear my classmates outside, squealing in downhill delight while I sat alone by a warm fireplace.
It was March of 1985, and this senior trip was our last outing as a close-knit class of forty-four. The majority vote landed on an outdoor winter fun day at a nearby ski hill that offered skiing or tubing. I chose neither.
Running Through the Years (Part 3)
Through our 30s, with a daily whirlwind of backpacks, field trips, and daycare, Kristi, Angy, and I continued our 5:30 a.m. morning runs. As working moms with kids of the same age, these runs were equally therapy as exercise.
Running Through the Years (Part 2)
A blond ponytail flapped in the wind like a pony’s tail swatting a fly. This was my rear-view visual on a recent run.
The ponytail belonged to a runner, much faster and younger than me.
As the young runner charged into the distance, my mind played the Miley Cyrus song “Used To Be Young.”
Running Through the Years (Part 1)
Running became a part of my life in the late 70s. It was officially called jogging at the time and became the exercise rage. My dad decided to give it a try and would jog after work. As a pre-teen and my dad's after-work sidekick, I decided to join him.
The Leisure Athlete
“Hey, the new neighbors are moving in. They look like they’re our age and seem fit.”
This was my enthusiastic call to my husband, Garrett, seconds after I pulled out of our driveway. The house across the street, empty for months, was now brimming with activity.
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