The next morning, we made coffee in the RV, then took it down to a river to journal and wake up. After breakfast, we noticed that the bathroom tub wasn’t draining. Between prepping a feast of produce for dinner, doing dishes and taking our morning’s showers, we’d lost sight of the limited capacity for waste water in the RV and had to empty the tank. Whoops!
With that taken care of, we began a day of adventure, including hiking, fishing and kayaking. Although neither of us had been camping, my sister had somehow managed to both kayak and fish without me in the past, but I was eager to try two things I’d never done before.
On the North County Trail, we hiked into lush green forest, damp with a gentle rain that had begun to fall. The trail was so serene and magical; we stopped to look at storybook mushrooms growing along the path, listen to the sounds of wildlife nearby and take pictures to commemorate our experience together. The sound of thunder rumbling in the distance began to grow louder, cutting our hike short. We made it back to the car just as the skies opened.
As the summer storm blew over, we made our way toward Fife Lake, where we planned to put our borrowed kayaks in the water. I’ve never been totally comfortable navigating the water, but with Brittany with me, I was open to the challenge. Soon, the sun came out and the rain moved on, leaving us with a brilliant blue sky over the lake. As we dropped our boats in the water and climbed in, I felt a little uncertain. It’s awkward to step into a boat so low to the water and the waves made it feel unsteady. But as we pushed off and paddled over calm waters, Brittany noticed I was nervous and assured me it would all be okay. She distracted me with some much-needed girl talk and I began to relax.
Then it hit me. In that moment, I was living my truth and having the epitome of a first-time experience. I was fully present, even though I’d stepped outside my comfort zone. Doing something for the first time means taking a leap of faith, letting go of expectations for any specific outcome. But if you allow yourself to embrace that uncertainty, you’re guaranteed to change to your life, just by leaving yourself open to the new and potentially wonderful results. It was so liberating.
On the way to our campground the day before, we’d purchased one-day fishing permits, and the clock was ticking on our 24 hours. So, we headed into shore and packed up our gear, driving to a nearby spot locals said was good for fishing.
As a fishing rookie, it took me a while to get a squirming worm on my hook, and a few tries to cast a good line into the water. We were on the bank of a river with a quick-moving current, which made me feel optimistic about catching something. I cast into the water and we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Bugs swarmed around us on the damp, weedy banks of the river, and I adjusted my own expectations, little by little. I told myself we were there for the experience, not necessarily to catch a fish successfully. I told myself to be patient, wait a few minutes longer. And then I felt my hope peter out.
As soon as I thought I wouldn’t get lucky, I felt a tug on the line. It moved upstream, pulling against my fishing rod. I’d caught something! We screamed and Brittany cheered me on as I clumsily reeled in my first-ever catch. I fought against the fish and against the pull of the current, bug-eyed and excited to see what was on my hook.
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