By Nat Shepard
Grade 12
Central High
Lisa Houdek — Teacher

My paddle is alive in my hands. The strokes are short and to the point, succinct but full of purpose. Each dip of the paddle sets the tempo for the upcoming rhythm of the drop, drop of water from the airborne paddle. The loud rush of the water is the only indication of the upcoming rapid, and although static and continuous, the sound enhances the intrinsic rhythm. The bird’s song and the rustle of the bushes along river right alerts me to the presence of a mother and daughter moose. I hear the water’s pulse louder in my head, reminding me of the rapid I had been looking forward to all morning.

The world I am living in for these few short weeks is, in comparison to my every day surroundings, exactly that: a different world. It is my summer escape in the Canadian wilderness, and specifically Quetico Provincial Park. I love the Twin Cities and its historical parks, but the tranquility and serenity that I have experienced in the Quetico has made it truly special to me. When at home in St. Paul, I have to satisfy myself with Minnehaha Creek and other small streams that, although fun, do not give me the same rush as a large standing wave in the middle of a 40-meter long rapid.

My experiences in the Canadian wilderness have taught me to not take nature for granted, no matter how humanly populated or polluted it is. I have learned to make the best of what I have, and I have done it by reading books at the city park near my house, and going for jogs in the woods along the drainage system. I can experience nature, and I do not have to be 80 miles above the border secluded from any noticeable human life to do so. Of course, while I am tracing the drainage pipes with the print of my running shoes and floating blissfully down the Minnehaha, all I am thinking about is that pristine refuge that awaits me. And I know that, come summer-time, I will be right back in that magical place, hearing the sounds of the upcoming rapid that I had been away from for what felt like an eternity.

My heart starts to race in anticipation of the set, and I’m curious to find out what the river has in store for me. As we come around the bend, I see the water start to move faster, swirling and twisting its way into the foaming eddies on both sides of the river. This is what I live for; the water speeds up and I use each paddle stroke to slow our canoe and maneuver through the rocks before we hit the first entrance V- a flow of water between two rocks that signifies a safe path to the narrowing line our canoe will follow. We are now in the middle of the set, and everything around me has come alive. The movement of the water, the bright leaves dancing on their way to the forest floor; it is nature living and breathing, showing me its complexities while escorting me to a lake that appears astronomical in size. We shoot past the last remaining rocks, and I find myself confronted with a spectacular view. My world seems to halt. The rush I had experienced throughout the rapid exits my body in one large exhalation, and all I can do is breath in the natural beauty that surrounds me.