I love whitewater.

We kayaked some nice Class I and a great Class II rapids  on the river trip last week (pictures to come) , and this weekend I realized they provide a convenient metaphor for what the last six weeks has been for me.

Last week, I pointed my kayak down the rapids, and quickly picked up speed. It was then a delicate, fast-paced game of paddling, maneuvering, and feathering—dodging rocks and trying to pick the best line through the rushing, churning water.

I had done some whitewater kayaking previously, as well as reaching Technician level in Swiftwater Rescue training, so I had enough background to know what to look for. Actually seeing it is a different matter. Moving rapidly through roiling masses of fluid makes identifying pillows, holes, downward vees and upward vees challenging. Failing to discern these signs places me and my ship at risk.

Quest was very similar. This summer, I dropped into this crazy program and began a six-week marathon  of dodging problems and manuevering through challenging waters. It was a blast, I definitely enjoyed it, but it was also very difficult.

Much like the rapids, it was quite a rush. And I’m really sad that it is over. Part of me is glad I “survived” it and part of me wants to go back.