A Journey Down Memory Lane

As a retired teacher and a grandmother, I often find myself reminiscing about the road trips of my youth. Those long drives across America with my family, the wind in our hair, and the open road ahead of us. It was with this sense of nostalgia that I found myself in Montana, ready to embark on a new adventure: a full day whitewater rafting trip on the Flathead River. The idea of combining the thrill of the rapids with the serene beauty of the river was too enticing to resist.

The day began with a sense of trepidation, much like the first day of school. None of us had ever been whitewater rafting before, and the unknown loomed large. But as soon as we checked in, any lingering doubts were washed away by the warm welcome of our guide, Colin. His enthusiasm was infectious, and his knowledge of the river and Glacier National Park was impressive. As we set off, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement, reminiscent of those childhood road trips.

The Dance of the Rapids

The river was a gentle giant, with its class II rapids providing just the right amount of thrill for our group. Colin expertly guided us through the twists and turns, his instructions clear and encouraging. For those of us who were older and perhaps not as agile, he rearranged us in the raft to ensure a smooth ride. It was a thoughtful gesture, one that reminded me of the kindness of strangers we often encountered on our travels.

As we navigated the rapids, Colin shared stories of the river’s history and the surrounding Glacier National Park. His tales painted vivid pictures in my mind, transporting me back to a time when the world was a little less hurried. My son, who works on the east side of the park, was particularly captivated by the stories of the west side. It was a reminder of the rich tapestry of history that weaves through the landscapes of America.

A Feast by the River

Midway through our journey, we stopped for a much-needed lunch break. The guides set up a delightful spread of fruit, veggies, chips, and salsa, followed by grilled steak and chicken. It was a feast fit for adventurers, and we devoured it with gusto. As we sat by the river, the sun warming our faces, I was reminded of the simple pleasures of life on the road.

The second half of the trip mirrored the first, with a mix of whitewater and calm waters. The weather was perfect, a balmy 74 degrees with the sun peeking through the clouds. We got wet, of course, but it was a welcome reprieve from the heat. As the day drew to a close, I found myself wishing I had brought a camera to capture the memories. But perhaps it’s fitting that the images remain in my mind, a private collection of moments to cherish.

As we said our goodbyes to Colin and the rest of the group, I felt a sense of gratitude for the experience. It was a reminder of the beauty of the open road, the thrill of new adventures, and the joy of sharing it all with family. And as always, I tipped our guide generously, knowing that his passion for the river and his dedication to his craft made our journey unforgettable.