My Last Few Months on the Congaree

In my time spent at the University of South Carolina I have enjoyed Columbia's rivers to a great extent. Not only do they offer the best way to battle the Midland's infamous heat, but they provide a serene outdoor atmosphere in the heart of downtown.

After I graduate in May I will be leaving Columbia, and the more I think about it, the more I realize how much I am going to miss paddling on the Saluda and Congaree rivers. Last Sunday Rachelle and I went on a short trip down the Congaree in my 16 foot Dagger Legend canoe. I found the shell of the canoe in the woods in Roaring Gap last summer and the Roaring Gap Club's manager (my boss during the summer) said I was welcome to it. After pressure washing and waxing the shell my father and I refitted it with new seats, a thwart and yoke. Now the 20-year-old boat is one of my favorite all time possessions.

As Rachelle and I sat and talked in the flat water of the Congaree, I began to fall prey to nostalgia. I spent three years as a river guide on the Saluda and Congaree and, though I love my summers in Roaring Gap, it has been my favorite job to date. Mostly because it never felt like a job.

As an Eagle Scout myself, guiding groups of local Boy Scouts was always my favorite, despite their tendency to not tip. I would always joke that blue herons were in fact pterodactyls, and call common loons, "Daffy Ducks."

I always loved the process as well. In the same way that I love preparing for a hunt, I took pride in tying off boats and giving my spiel of safety instructions.

For example: It is nearly impossible to roll a canoe as long as you never touch the gunwales. This is my number one rule. Do not touch the gunwales.

Guiding was a great job, but just as I said farewell to my dreams of being a rockstar after high school and an astronaut before that. This part of my life has become another casualty of change.

I've since put up my Perception, Mr. Clean (a whitewater kayak) for sale on consignment along with several other gear I won't need after my next move. But beyond the Shandon rapids and the endangered spider lilies, the true beauty of the river is that wherever I go, I know its flow will be unwavering. She will always be flowing, and I can always pay her a visit.