As I shift back into the school year, I realize everything I missed from this summer. One of my memories from this summer was going to Colorado and going whitewater rafting. School still doesn’t compare to the terrible idea of paddling in the Rocky Mountains.

My family, for some odd reason, thinks a road trip equates to a good bonding experience. Well, in all actuality they don’t. Limited to the proximity of a single car while listening to your family attempt to lead a productive conversation, earbuds and Hot Cheetos become a great coping mechanism, and the the only option of escape.

A long car ride and a few Cheetos later, we reached our destination and on the second day, of a so-far tiring vacation, I realized I agreed to spend 4 long hours with my family in a single raft, in a scary situation, and right in front of an obscene, obligated and obnoxiously loud tour guide right over the whitewater of the Arkansas River and right under the Royal Gorge Bridge.

The raft ride, undoubtedly, made me crazy. In multiple places on the river, I almost fell out, escalating the already risky situation into a terrible one. Every stroke cued from the yelling guide, “ left back one,” he said, meaning for us all on the left side of the raft to paddle backwards once.

The wavering of the raft caused splashing only in small sprays of the water, which measured only 40 degrees. This explains what I felt after the tedious and treacherous ride. The only way to stay anchored safe inside the raft made my legs tremble to the point almost unbearable to walk afterwards.

After crawling out of the raft and out of the ice cold water, my family and I ate at the restaurant close to the launching area. Then we hopped in the car and off to Pike’s Peak we went. I learned a lot of things, including the fact that I need to become a stronger person all together if I am to survive a another road trip.