When his oldest, Joel, turned thirteen, Craig Duncan organized a rafting trip for him as a kind of coming-of-age celebration. He invited me, along with some of the other male teachers from Chinquapin, to join the crew, and head West. Just a year into living in Texas, New Braunfels felt like a distant jungle destination from Houston, where we all lived, though it’s growth and my proximity to it over the twenty five years since has redrawn my sense of the region completely. I don’t remember what time of year it was, though I recall it being a lovely day of camaraderie among men who were generous with their friendship, at a time when I was still feeling far from home and far from my own competence. Being on a raft was itself a nice boost to my ego. Since I was a relatively experienced river paddler and outdoorsman, at least compared to the rest of the group, I felt comfortable and valuable, not that we needed expertise. As the youngest adult in the crowd I also remember feeling perhaps that I had a little bit of an aura of “cool“ that the rest of the men, all dad‘s, might perhaps not, to the eyes of the teenage Joel. Whether deluded or not, that is the state of mind I embedded in my memory of the weekend.

Everyone else headed back home that Saturday evening, but I stayed and slept the night in my bag in the back of my red Isuzu pick up truck, with it’s tiny square camper shell. I had arranged with the river rental company to procure a kayak to run the stretch of water again solo, a bit of adventure and coming of age of my own. It was an open topped kayak, but as I had never mastered a kayak roll, being able to get out of the boat if it capsized was for the best, since it did. I’ve never met a boat I couldn’t fall out of. Including that one. 

I was the first person on the river that morning, so the chatter of the previous day’s rafting was supplanted by the splash of fish, the flap of bird-wing, the plop of turtle. For a few hours I felt free of navigating the stresses of being a young teacher and young adult, having only to follow the river’s path.