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Reading Rough Water

Reading Rough Water

Part 3

I can’t believe my eyes as my daughter’s head disappears under the raging water. Neither her father nor her husband could grab her fast enough. She slips through the fingers of those who love her to the moon and back.

Reading Rough Water

Reading Rough Water

Part 2

Back on the water, our guide shades her eyes, scanning ahead for quiet eddies, boiling ripples, or smooth v-shaped “tongue” formations flanked by foamy whitewater. Fast water is a map for safe travel if you know how to read the signs. We breathe in the scent of fir as she breaks the river into tiny components, measuring risk and reward. Mentally, she’s running this section of river before the first stroke.

Reading Rough Water

Reading Rough Water

Part 1

The odds of running rapids without hitting rocks, getting snagged by submerged trees or occasionally getting knocked out of the boat are slim to none. Behind every adventure in Northwest Montana there’s risk and skill required to tell a happy story around the campfire.

The same can be said for your business. How do you successfully navigate a season, quarter or year? When you capsize, do you have a plan to flip that business upright? How much cash do you have in reserve for an emergency? Can you live on those savings for 3-6 months?

Are you Boofing?

Are you Boofing?

Boofing takes practice, some luck and a metal helmet. In my case, additional protection is mandatory. Picture a cage with built in seat belts.

Here’s my definition for this whitewater skill: One boofs while paddling as if being chased by demons, flying over half submerged boulders covered in white foamy water…on purpose. Alternately, it also means launching a narrow kayak over a precipice and landing level downstream.

The word “Boof” comes from the sound a kayak makes landing correctly, which means on the river in an upright position.

Deep in the Woods

Deep in the Woods

Searching for the High Road - part 8 of an 8 part series

We walked west through the burn area for the agreed upon time, never crossing the swath. Returning to the starting point we headed east and found a logging operation but not the opening we were looking for. Heading downhill for the creek, a group member said, “What if there’s no log spanning the creek to cross over and we’ve bushwhacked ourselves into all kinds of debris or the forest gets denser?”