Middle Fork Madness

Every once in awhile you get a day.  This day will come, and it can catch you by surprise, this day could be something you've only thought about, just imagined, or something you've dreamt about for years. It could remind you of what you do or don't have. It could make you thankful, it could make you realize you need to be ready for the next day, because this time you weren't.  These days will come, and imagining that any day could be this day, I think, makes your life seem like something you mean to be living.  I am constantly inspired by those around me whose lives are based on around knowing, and doing as much as they can when these days arrive. I'm inspired by those who spend their time perfecting things they love, and are enlivened by.  It is a cycle that perpetuates your soul I believe, where skill, challenge and ability converge, to require massive dedication and result in achievement, fueling the next idea of progression.  

Anyways apparently I had that thought in my head at midnight tonight, posting photos of guys who consistently take their own lives in their hands, and don't think twice about it, because the price you pay in regret, or boredom or doubt or fear through not doing it, is higher than the cost of risking really living and giving the one thing you spent on being the best; your life.  

This particular day, was a slow start to a sunny afternoon watching the Bombflow crew and friends charge down the Middle Fork of the Nooksack River, bushwacking a jungle ravine, dangling from a rappelling harness over a raging chasm of whitewater, hoping my self-tied anchor would hold and my camera wouldn't slip out of my outstretched hand.

The results were less than what I wanted, but a second trip is surely being schemed.

Thank you for reading this

and as always thank you for looking.  

rhys's life tips #48: Adventures are relative, they can be seconds, or years.  If you choose to set out on one, you can usually choose to end one too. Creating them makes more sense than finding them and you won't usually regret them.

-Rhys   

Peripherals

Lately I've been reminded why I love what I do. 

After a three day stint chasing hidden falls, fjording raging swollen rivers, bushwacking through jungles, taking some devil's club in the face, sleeping in the back of my truck and eating fire-roasted McDonalds, I couldn't be more stoked on one of the most "unsuccessful," weekends in my photo career.  

But with not one run made down what Fred Norquist and crew refer to as monster 'stouts,' It wasn't anything but pure thankfulness and warm fuzzy feelings for Washington all over again.  With sketchy landings in shallow pools, low flow, or raging overflow, every potential drop the guys checked out just wasn't working out. 

But if dedication was a rare jungle disease, just like the monkey from Outbreak, these guys caught it and made it spread.  Bummer after bummer, smiles never left, and vengeful return was inspired at each failed mini-mission.

I realized on my way across Steven's Pass at 2:30 am that if the worst thing about the entire weekend was that I hiked to three of the most beautiful waterfalls I've ever seen, spotted a bear, caught the sunset ferry, ate some of the best pulled pork bbq known to man, and slept under more stars than I've seen my entire life, then it probably wasn't that bad of a weekend after all.

Here's to living each day as if it were your last, because some day that will be true.

-Rhys

Upper right of the falls, look for Ryan

Fred's the only dude I know who is man enough to camp with a purple silk pillow...