So, you want to feel more in control of what's showing up in your life, huh?
You want to manifest your desires on a more consistent basis, right?
First, I hear you.
And second, I'm with you.
There's nothing better than living your life on your own terms and watching your desires come together before your eyes. This feeling of being the deliberate creator of your life is the essence of a Very Cool Life™.
However, before you can see the stuff you want begin to show up around you, you must know and respect how things work.
My inspiration for this post was reading the words of a teacher who wrote that "the Universe always gives you want you want."
Horse hockey.
Statements like this are what keep many people leery from learning more about the Law of Attraction. Most people recognize these words to be false from their own experience and then reject the Law of Attraction as New Age mumbo jumbo. And other folks, overly-optimistic and hungry in their desire for a better life, cling to this idea for as long as possible, but never make any progress and end up jaded about their own belief in the Law of Attraction.
I do not want these outcomes for anyone and I believe they come from a crucial misunderstanding of the principles at work.
So let's clear a few things up right now.
The Universe does not give you what you want.
In fact, the Universe does not care what you want. It's not a person! There's no wizard behind a curtain, no white-haired man dressed in a robe and sandals, floating about in the sky keeping tabs on a list of your desires. (Oh, Susie wants a new car? Hmmmn. Let's see here… Does she deserve a new car?) In fact, thinking that there exists some entity outside yourself that cares for you is a way of abdicating your own free will and sense of personal responsibility for your own life.
A better way to understand how the Universe works is to picture it as a massive amplifying machine. This amplifying machine does not care what kind of "music" you feed into it. It's a machine, after all. It has no preferences. It only does one thing: It takes what you feed into it and then makes it louder.
This is how the process of manifestation works. The thoughts and feelings that you choose emanate from you, sending a specific signal out to this massive amplifier, the Universe. The amplified signal then comes back to you, a simple, perfect feedback system. Whatever you put into the system is what comes back out, only louder.
Most people are so focused on what they want (and their distress over the fact that what they want is not showing up) that they fail to see where the process of manifestation is breaking down. Here's the distinction to help break this cycle.
The Universe does not give you more of what you want, the Universe gives you more of that which you give your attention.
In other words, what you want does not matter. Where you focus your attention determines what you create.
So, if you like what you are getting in a particular area of your life, keep your attention where it is.
If you do not like what you are getting, or wish to create something better, it's your job to look inward and make changes based on your discovery of where your attention is focused on thoughts and feelings that reflect what you do NOT want.
When you understand and embrace the concept of the Universe as a big amplifier, this leads you to take charge of the thoughts and feelings you choose to activate. You begin to look at the results you create and then connect the dots to where you've been focusing your thoughts. You practice, tweak, and make adjustments.
You get what you focus upon. Whether that's good stuff or bad stuff, it's just a reflection of where you put your attention. So why not get in the habit of attending to the things that feel good to focus on?
I promise you that this is the best investment of your time and energy if you wish to begin seeing your life unfold on your own terms.
Filed under Blog, Freedom, Ease, Connection Files, Law of Attraction Stuff by . 
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"CHANGE IS FOR LOSERS"
MAY 2010
Drew Rozell, Ph.D. partners with dynamic individuals, groups, and progressive companies who wish to to create more freedom, ease, and connection in their lives and businesses.
"This stuff works"
That's my boy!
May 2010
Welcome, my friend!
Yes indeed. Big news from the homefront.
The ultrasound image tells the story. Karin and I are expecting our first child at the end of the summer. Words do not allow me to capture the depth of my feelings, so let's just say we're thrilled. More related thoughts in this month's feature.
A few more births around here as well. Super stoked to report that I have finished my book, Very Cool Life!
After investing in a coach, after years of stop and start, push and pull, I cranked this puppy out in two months. What's more, I know the information in there is solid and written in an entertaining way. Look for the big launch at the end of the summer.
In coaching news, if you are looking for the proper (and necessary) support for creating your own version of a Very Cool Life, I am pleased to announce a few new options.
First, I am now offering Very Cool Life Breakthrough days – both in-person and virtually (over the phone). I recommend these for people who are ready to get aligned FAST and have an unforgettable experience at the same time. In person days are held at a very cool Vermont inn or camping lakeside in the mountains with yours truly. Your choice.
Second, my wife and I have been teaming up for solo business owners who want the full enchilada — a powerful brand, compelling message, and a clear mind. Karin does the step-by-step marketing piece and I do the aligning of the mindset work. This program is a combo of in-person work (come see us) and follow up coaching. We have two spaces left.
If you are interesting in connecting, the first thing to do is to schedule a session with me to see how it feels when we connect.
ALSO: 2 spots left in Karin's Brand Authenticity Program. Starts this week! (I'll be there, too!)
Finally, you might enjoy some of my recent posts, including my 3-part essay on a wild kayak ride with my friend.
Ma and Pa.
I hope you find my thoughts valuable.
Thanks for all your support!
P.S. If you like this, please share it with someone. Or leave a comment.
CHANGE IS FOR LOSERS
So, I am going to be a father. A dad. Someone’s old man.
And if all this new-fangled technology is to be trusted, it appears that a little boy is making plans to join party. (This gender news surprised us both, but within three seconds, I envisioned throwing a ball to my son. I had never pictured that before. Taking it in, I tried to breathe through my eyes to suck back the tears.)
Karin has been showing for a couple months now (she's due at the end of the summer). I've found that our good news evokes two distinct reactions from people.
Members of the first group of people tell you how happy they are for you. They tell you that they believe the two of you will be wonderful parents. At some point, these people are likely to hug you.
The second group of people responds in a much different way. Before expressing any sort of joy, these folks project their parenting experience onto you. They tell stories about how relieved they are to have survived.
"You have no idea what changes you're in for," one person told me, his tone reflecting his pity regarding my naivety.
While my instinct was to begin illustrating the differences between us, I knew I wouldn’t convince him of anything. As I walked away, I threw him his bone:
“You are absolutely right. I have no idea what to expect,” I replied.
Of course, he was right. When it comes to being a dad, I have no idea of what to expect.
However, what I did not bother to tell him was that I hold a clear expectation. My expectation is that my life will get better than it is today (and it's very cool now).
Experiencing the two types of reactions from others has been another clear example of how people hold one of two distinct mindsets. There are CHANGERS and there are EVOLVERS.
I'll start with the CHANGERS.
Ask a CHANGER if they understand that life is full of change and they will say yes. However, while they acknowledge that life is full of change, they do not really embrace it.
To better illustrate this distinction, picture a surfer bobbing in the ocean with his board.
The CHANGER knows the waves are coming. But rather than exerting the effort of paddling with the wave or mastering the skill of popping up on the board, the changer stays put. He lifts the board overhead to use it as a shield from the oncoming barrage of waves.
CHANGERS do not have the vision to see beyond the current set of waves; their immediate goal is survival. They just want to let the waves pass over so they can get back to their life as it was.
CHANGERS usually muster enough willpower to keep themselves afloat – for a while. But it does not take many waves to discover the true power of the ocean. In the long run, covering up and hoping for the waves to stop is not a winning strategy. You end up a victim of the whims of the ocean.
Continuing with this analogy, an EVOLVER decides to use the most powerful tool at his or her disposal (their mindset) for its intended purpose. They use the board to go surfing, dude.
The EVOLVER understands that getting on top of the waves is not easy and requires effort. The EVOLVER chooses to focus their thoughts in a clear, positive direction. The EVOLVER knows that the point of life is to grow, to expand, and to improve. The CHANGER has forgotten all this.
The CHANGER spends their time dealing with problems. The EVOLVER invests in eliminating problems before they occur.
Doing my morning workouts, the trainer offers a few words that reflect the thinking that separates CHANGERS and EVOLVERS.
“You can get older. Or you can get better,” he says. He goes on to explain how he can do things in his mid-40s that he could not do in his twenties.
So if you’re wondering if you’re a CHANGER or an EVOLVER, consider your answers to the following questions.
What are you getting better at right now?
What are you actively learning?
Who are you becoming?
What steps are you taking to improve the quality of your daily experience?
EVOLVERS have clear answers to those questions. CHANGERS tend not to be so forward thinking.
Make no mistake, getting better and becoming an EVOLVER requires your consistent focus and effort. However, never lose sight of the real point here. Being an EVOLVER and keeping up with the speed of life is exhilarating, fun, and challenging. It’s the foundation for a very cool life.
Becoming an EVOLVER requires you to invest in yourself — hire a mentor, join a community, or attend a workshop. Learn something new about yourself and become more than you are today.
In closing, my son will arrive in three months. I have no idea what to expect when I’m expecting. And nothing could make me happier.
TAKE YOUR LIFE BY THE HORNS!
A friend from a recent hike. More friendly than she looks...
You say you want it all?
… To feel clear, strong, powerful, and aligned?
You can hold the best intentions. You can hope. You can dream.
(This is what most people do, by the way.)
But unless you start to do something different than what you are doing now, the chances of you reaching your destiny are, well… slim.
They just are.
Be an EVOLVER, not a CHANGER.
Your life is what you make it, so why not make it a VERY COOL LIFE?
THE FIRST STEP
Let me invite you to book a 30-minute breakthrough session with me.
It's low-risk. Yes, you'll need to invest a few bucks in yourself.
But if you're not willing to do that for yourself (with me or another coach), how serious are you?
Here's the kicker…
I'll guarantee that within the 30 minutes, I'll be able to zero in on the biggest block that's holding you back.
(In fact, it will likely take me about 3 minutes. We can use the rest of the time any way you like. )
Hope to connect with you…
WHAT DREW'S CLIENTS SAY…
"I’ve been thinking back over this year, and one of the things I am most grateful for is the decision I made to work with you. The assignments are subtle, the changes profound. Thank you. Your coaching is just what I’ve been asking for."
– Fabienne Fredrickson, The Client Attraction Mentor
My Breakthrough Day with Drew was the best decision I have ever made! As a result of our day, I feel totally energized, clear on my direction, and a newfound sense of freedom! I didn’t know I could be this happy. I highly recommend investing in a day with Drew! You might be surprised too that you could be this happy!
– Stephanie Taranto
Video Testimonial on working with Drew & Karin
* BOOKS AND MUSIC *
• A Book:
BREAKFAST WITH BUDDHA: By Rolland Merullo. Just 50 pages in, but I can tell I like this novel. Easy to read, excited to pick it up. Some great writing too.
SHOPCRAFT AS SOULCRAFT: By Matthew Crawford. Crawford makes the point of the value of working with your hands, creating things. While I am a big believer in his point, the writing style is a tad too academic for me. Reminds me more of a dissertation. Find myself skimming. Not picking it up. Too much proving of the point.
BACKCAST: FATHERHOOD, FLY-FISHING, AND A RIVER JOURNEY THROUGH THE HEART OF ALASKA: By Lou Ureneck. Picked this up on a whim at the bookstore. A well-written, enjoyable memoir about being a man and a dad. Savored it each night before bed.
• MUSIC:
Farewell, RJD: Rock legend Ronnie James Dio passed this month. I thought enough of him to write this.
AIC Returns: Certainly, rock is my genre of choice, the most common soundtrack to my life. Got the opportunity to see Alice In Chains perform locally with my friend Tony last week and they were great. Got their new album, and I must say, it rocks.
A VERY COOL LIFE IN PHOTOS
Haystack Mt., Pawlet, Vermont. A new favorite little hike of mine.
here are some more photos from this month…
- Connect with Drew: Drew's Facebook | Drew's Twitter
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ISSN: #1530-3101 Library Of Congress, Washington D.C., USA © Copyright 2010 by Drew Rozell, Ph.D. – All Rights Reserved
Filed under Blog, Drewsletter!, Freedom, Ease, Connection Files by .
“You don’t know Rainbow in the Dark?” Rachel asked. Her tone let me know how uncool she found my ignorance.
“So you’re saying you've never heard of Dio?” she added, her incredulity bordering on disgust.
I wanted to lie, but she had me. I shook my head in shame and I told her I would have a listen.
In 1983, this meant that I would have to wait for the weekend, tune into the late night rock show, and hope. I had a blank tape sitting in the cassette deck, my index and ring fingers poised press the two buttons simultaneously to RECORD.
The DJ previewed his playlist and yes, he promised, that the new one from Dio would be coming up.
Rachel was right.
The song Rainbow in the Dark was supercool. I listened to it over and over, writing out the lyrics on a sheet of paper. Later in the week, I pressured my mom to take me to Record Town in the mall so I could buy the cassette tape for $17.98 with my paper route money.
I had no intention of showing my mother what I bought. To steal a line from the movie This is Spinal Tap, Dio’s new album had a rather lurid cover – a chained, drowning priest being chain-whipped by a demon. No, this was not to be shared with the folks. This was just for me. I could not wait to get home and pop the tape into my Sony Walkman.
As I type these words, it’s 27 years later (whoa!) and I am listening to the same recording on my iPod. I nod my head in appreciation of the music that still holds up. Somehow all the lyrics have remained stored in my memory bank.
Ronnie James Dio passed away the other day, and I feel compelled to write him a note of thanks. The news of his death made me remember the impact that his art had on me.
Dio’s music was about dreams, magic, mystery. The light and the dark. Heaven and hell. If you were going to add a metal soundtrack to one of the Lord of the Rings movies, Dio would be your guy. His voice was powerful and piercing – listen to him sing and you’ll notice you can understand all the words.
I’d listen to his music over and over. I recall my exasperated father bursting my bedroom, commanding me to "turn that shit down!" as I was tracing out the DIO logo (did you hear? flip it upside down and it spells d-e-v-i-l or so the rumor went…) on pieces of paper for my walls.
Dio came to my hometown for a concert the next year (Dokken opened). My friend Matt and I were not disappointed by the lasers, fog, and metal music. I was thrilled to buy my first overpriced rock T-shirt so I could put my allegiance on display. I was 14 years old, in the beginning stages of forming an identity for myself.
I knew I wanted to be a good person. I wanted to do the “right” things. But typical of my age, few of the messages from adults, teachers, and the church resonated with me. I found most of them to be restrictive, contradictory, or hypocritical.
Up to this point in my life, I worked very hard to fit in, to be the person I believed everyone wanted me to be. But lately that didn’t feel so good anymore.
My new shirt? That was mine. I wanted everyone to know what I liked. The fact that my figures of authority would not like it? All the better.
This was the image on my shirt.
Still, wearing my new shirt to school the morning after the concert (I had to prove I was there, right?), I remembering feeling self conscious as I strode into math class for first period. I had a demon on my chest, man – quite a departure from the collared shirts with the alligator on the tit that my mom bought me.
As I took my seat, Mr. Crisler’s eyes stopped on me. He said nothing, but looked me up and down. A small furrow appeared between his brow and he moved on.
He noticed.
In my mind, my demon shirt sent the message that I wasn’t going along with the game anymore. I was my own man. And I liked to rock.
Looking back, I am quite certain that no one really cared what I was wearing. Mr. Crisler’s look might easily have been directed toward Ernie behind me. But for the first time in my life, I felt like I was expressing myself.
The real test came that night at church school. This night we were meeting in the church as the priest had a special message for the youth. At the time, this man had a hard-on for lecturing us about how popular culture was delivering us to the gates of hell.
Like something out of Footloose, he came up with a list of “bad music” that we were not to listen to. Not if we wanted to be good. Not if we wanted to be saved. I never felt comfortable around the man. He (and the church in general) intimidated me. I made sure my jean jacket covered up my shirt as he began his rant. I did not wanted to be pointed out, made to feel bad, or be embarrassed.
The priest began by condemning the usual suspects from the world of rock music. But as he continued, he threw The Beatles and Billy Joel (“you Catholic girls start much too late”) into the mix. I felt my blood begin to boil. This guy did not know what he was talking about! Why wasn’t anyone calling him a liar? A hypocrite? Why wasn’t anyone pointing out to him that “LET IT BE” WAS IN THE DAMN HYMN BOOK?
No, I didn’t have the courage to open my mouth. I didn’t say a word. But I made a show of taking off my jacket and letting my demon fly. My hands were shaking during my act of defiance.
Looking back, I doubt that Father could have seen far enough to make out anything on my shirt. But then again, this really wasn’t about him anyway.
This was about what I liked. And I liked this music. No one was going to tell me what I could like anymore. That was for me to decide. Not my parents. Not my school. Not the church.
Me.
I know it does not sound like much. A silly T-shirt, marketed perfectly with dark imagery to an angry, disillusioned teenage boy. Big whoop.
But for me it was more than that. For me it was art. And the job of art is to evoke a feeling from us – whatever that feeling might be.
Mr. Dio’s art put me on a path where I could begin making choices based on my preferences, not just the expectations of others.
So, thank you, Ronnie James. Your art touched my life in a positive way.
And I think that is the sign of a life well lived.
STAND UP AND SHOUT
You are the strongest chain
And not just some reflection
So never hide again
You are the driver
You own the road
You are the fire
Go on explode
You've got desire
So let it out
You've got the power
Stand up and shout
Filed under Blog, Current Events, My life, Profiles by .
The river widened to sixty feet and we paddled along the center line. There was no time to move toward the riverbank to contemplate options. We had to pass beneath the wire and avoid getting hung up.
Mark went first, extending his paddle and using it like a big spatula, flipping the wire over his head as he lay back in his boat. He made it. I heard him hoot in triumph.
“Is the electricity on?” I yelled.
Mark never heard me as the rushing water drowned out most everything.
I noticed that the wire hung lower to my left and I wanted to pass in the center where Mark had been successful. But as I kept my eyes focused to the left – focusing on what I did not want – I found my boat being pulled in that direction as if I was caught in a tractor beam.
(For the rest of the trip, whenever I saw something I did not want to hit – a riverbank, log, or a rock – I made a point of picking out the exact path I wanted the kayak to go and locking my focus there. I found myself remembering a passage from a book that described some of the nuances of auto racing. The advice given was to remember that your car will go where your eyes go. So if you ever find yourself getting out of control, focus your eyes and attention on where you want to go. It seemed to work on the river.)
As I drew closer, I could see that the wire would meet me just below my chest. Having the top half of my body coming to a halt while the lower half continued at the speed of the river would not be good. Another capsize would be the least of my concerns.
From my seated position, I leaned all the way back in my boat. Using my hand to raise the wire, there was just enough clearance to allow my upturned nose to limbo under with a few inches to spare. On the other side, I exhaled and expressed my thanks that the electricity was not flowing.
The adrenaline pumped through my veins. As crazy as this little venture was turning out to be, I felt alive.
A few minutes later, another wire spanning the width of the river came into view. Three orange ribbons tied to the wire made it visible from a distance. A hundred yards further we could see sharp bend; we had no way of knowing what lay around the corner.
As we approached the second wire, the river grew louder and more intense. Thoughts popped into my head.
Were these wires were meant as a warning? A barrier to keep us from passing? Clearly, no one else ever kayaks the Mettowee River. There must be a reason for this…
Is there a waterfall around the bend?
The image of the young woman who died pinned in a waterfall emerged.
Strung higher than the first, we passed under the second wire with little difficulty. I caught up to Mark and pointed towards the riverbank. With the image of a waterfall in my brain, taking a moment to go ashore and scope out the situation seemed prudent.
As I jumped out of my boat and pulled it up the riverbank, I watched Mark behind me. Hesitating for an instant upon his exit, his battle was over. The river pushed his kayak sideways and Mark fell up to his chest in the frigid water. His words expressed the shock to his system and he fought to drag his boat ashore.
Seeing Mark get soaked added to my sense of urgency. We would need to keep moving to stay warm. Glancing upward, I guessed we had about 40 minutes of daylight left. I also knew we were at least ninety minutes from the warmth of Mark’s truck.
I started running toward the bend to get a view of what lay ahead, but quickly discovered that the blooming brush made passage impossible. I returned to Mark, emptying his boat from the flood.
I could feel my body temperature dropping and I asked Mark (blessed with a full head of hair) if I could wear his baseball cap to trap some heat. Of course, he said. While his hat was too big for my head, my fingers were too numb to do any adjusting.
We needed to get back on the water. Mark joked about how high he would blast the heater in his truck. Thinking warm thoughts, we pushed on. Around the bend, there were some rapids and a few drops, but no waterfall.
We did not stop paddling for the next hour. Coming to a sharp bend, I failed to negotiate the turn and quickly found myself dog-paddling in the river once again. The water was very deep and fast. I had to float my boat downstream, walking until I found an inlet where I could get my boat ashore and drain it.
I noticed the inlet led back to a farm. The fact that each step was taking me knee-deep in quicksand-like muck combined with the sulfuric smell led me to believe I’d stumbled upon the discharge for the farm’s septic system. Too exhausted to be disgusted, I jumped back in the boat and headed downstream.
The sun dipped behind the mountain and the air cooled. We paddled in the shadows and then we paddled in the darkness. But we would make it. We had no other option.
It was past 8:30 PM when we came up to Mark’s truck. We shared a quick laugh at our sorry selves, but we were not home yet. Our take out spot was extremely poor – the current ran very strong and the riverbank was at least 10 feet high and very steep.
This is the spot where we exited the river. Took this shot in January. Felt this cold on this April evening!
To ensure that I had the proper respect for her, the Mettowee took me under one last time. Capsizing, I fought to free my lower body from the kayak, hold onto the boat, and keep my head above water. In the blur of self-preservation, I’d released my trusty blue paddle from my grip, never to be seen again.
Mark fired up his truck, and we shivered like wet rats while loading the boats in the darkness. As much as I wanted to rush inside the vehicle, I forced myself to slow down and make sure all the attachments were secure.
The thermometer informed us that it was 40 degrees outside. The water could not have been much warmer.
The bruises would appear tomorrow, but in this moment, we were a smashing success.
And what was our reward?
A cold beer and a story we will tell for the rest of our lives.
[Drew’s note: If you got this far, thanks for reading this!
I wrote this out for a couple reasons. First, I wanted to remember the experience and getting it on paper helps. And I like to write.
Why do I share it?
I do not consider myself a thrill seeker, an adrenaline junkie (I drive pretty slow!) or an extreme adventure person. They are plenty of folks much more hard-core than me. I do not believe that taking risks or cavorting in icy water somehow makes you a better person.
I suppose my inspiration for sharing this story is that despite the discomfort and mishap, Mark and I had fun.
We pushed ourselves physically and mentally. In a few hours, we went felt through a wide range of emotions — from fear to exhilaration.
We immersed ourselves in fantastic natural beauty. In short, we made the space in our lives to ride the river of adventure.
Whether or not you ever choose to get in a kayak, I think embracing life as an adventure, full of highs and lows is a helpful approach.
Sure, you’ll get knocked around every now and again. But everything turns out just fine in the end if you just keep heading downstream…
P.S. If you find a blue paddle, please send it along…
P.P.S. My digital camera pulled through. A couple nights in front of a dehumidifier. For the record, I have completely submerged two Canon Elphs now. Both survived and thrived. Recommend those cameras!
Filed under Blog, Current Events, Drew's Photos by .
“Dude, whaddaya think?” I asked, more than half-hoping Mark would tell me what a foolish idea this had been and we could pack up, head to my place, fire up the grill and have a beer.
Mark answered me with the same questions I had been asking myself. Can we do this? What lies ahead? Do we have enough time? But he gave no indication he was ready to quit (after all, he was still dry).
If we were going to go forward, we had to move. In two hours, the sun would dip behind the snow-capped Rupert Mountain and we’d be paddling in the twilight. If we were going to go forward, I needed to get my mind right. I needed to shake the cobwebs of doubt that had quickly taken over my thoughts.
I do not like quitting. I do not like losing. I do not like failing. I suppose no one does. In the moment, I thought of all the other times I came close to bailing on other trips when things got hairy. Recalling those time when pushing through led to triumphant outcomes, I changed the question I was asking myself.
I upgraded from “Can we make this?” to “Won’t it be cool to get off this river and forever look at it knowing we made it?” I started to picture Mark and I arriving at his truck, ten miles downstream. I could see it now. Somehow, we would make it.
“Let’s get going, man. Let’s just go and see what happens.” I said.
Mark was in.
After bailing the water out of my boat, we still had to get our kayaks beyond the downed tree. Waist deep in the water, we pressed down on our kayaks, submerging them enough to allow them to pass under the massive trunk. And we were on our way once more.
Mark let out another hoot, lifting my spirits. Getting pinned against the tree taught me that getting caught sideways on the river was to be avoided at any cost. Better to take pre-emptive measures and jump out of the boat rather than end up in a spot where you are taking the full brunt of the river and risk another capsize in the frigid water.
The tricky part was that the river was a never-ending series of S-curves. I quickly learned that you wanted to take the inside track on each turn. Getting caught on the outside riverbank was like being a race-car diver who hugs the wall – you’re asking for trouble. The fact that our boats were at least six feet too long for this type of river meant that there would be no time off to enjoy the scenery.
But we were doing it. We were making the turns. We were avoiding enough river rocks, branches, and debris and to keep moving downstream. We were doing it.
Coming around a blind bend, another huge tree lay across the river. I failed to press my internal EJECT button and my boat met the tree. Sideways.
As I pressed down to lift my body weight out of the boat, the water began to spill inside. In a flash, I was back in the drink, the force of the water sinking my boat. With a new surge of adrenaline, I muscled my boat to shore, banging the hell out of my shins and knees with every step.
On shore, I discovered that my water-tight container that I had carabined to my kayak’s deck was not made to withstand a rushing river. My beloved Canon Elph sat completely submerged in a little plastic coffin. I checked the GPS I kept in my chest pocket and it was soaked as well.
The last shot from my trusty Canon Elph?
A stream of curses erupted from me. Not the camera! Just as I was about to begin Round II of beating myself up for my stupidity, it occurred to me that I did not have that luxury. We’d progressed about 1.5 miles downstream since my last capsize. The river had taken us deeper into the woods and the road was now a half mile away, a huge grazing grazing field between us and it. Even if we wanted to bail, accessing our boats from our current location was not an option.
Mark dried my camera with his sweatshirt (I had nothing dry anymore) and I placed it in my drybag, cursing myself for not doing this in the first place. We still had a dilemma in the form of the huge maple tree in front of us. Passage would not be easy.
After draining my boat again, we lifted our boats out of the steep river bank into the farmer’s field. We dragged our boats through the grass, looking for an entry point beyond the barrier when we discovered the next problem. A barbed wire fence now ran along the riverbank, trapping us in the field. I began jogging along the fence, looking for some place to access the river. I found none and walked back toward Mark.
“Not good, dude,” I said.
As the words left my mouth, Mark had found a wooden post that had rotten. Using a long branch as a lever, it looked as though we could limbo between the two strands of rusty wire and slide bank down the steep bank to the cold river.
After dragging our boats 100 yards through the field, we slithered through the opening without puncturing ourselves. The physical exertion helped keep my core temperature warm and I tightened my life vest to trap the heat.
Along with energy, we were burning daylight. Back in the water, I asked Mark to take the lead and we dug in with our paddles to make up some time. Following Mark, I noticed that my hands were numb and very pale. In the midst of the constant paddling and steering, I would shove a finger in my mouth for a second or two to warm my digits. It was better than nothing.
I neared a low hanging thicket of branches and vines and I did my best to steer clear from the mess. I failed. The branches scratched my face, blinding me. I felt my sunglasses pulling from my ears and grabbed them just as my hat was ripped from my head, falling silently in the water behind me.
Even though I’d just bought it, a hat’s a hat. I could get another when all of this was over. What troubled me was the massive amount of heat that was now escaping through my crown. Combined with my frigid hands, a few dark thoughts crossed my mind. I steeled myself, telling myself out loud how tough I was (Mark was ahead and could not hear my little pep talk), and I paddled harder to try and keep warm.
Mark came into sight as the river opened up.
“Wire! Wire! Wire!” he yelled in my direction.
Was that a wire strung across the river at the level of our chests?
Why would someone put a wire…
I realized the wire was an electric fence, likely used to keep the cattle from wandering off when the river dries up during the hot summer months.
There was no way to stop the ride, and the wire was drawing closer.
END PART II
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