As I begin this post Nov. 18, son Chris, 23, is en route to India and perhaps Nepal, China and Tibet, on a two-month kayaking expedition. This is not "ordinary life" but it is his life. Here he is, my baby, 20 years ago dipping a paddle into the river for the first time. (That's his dad's vintage blue Dancer) And here he is a few years ago in a circling-the-drain Chilean waterfall. Actually, I"m not sure that's Chris. He and a Spanish kayaker explored this creek and took turns with the camera. Those days Chris was on his own with a hunger for adventure and a quiet determination to join an elite cadre of kayakers who travel the globe pursuing primo adventure and first descents. That's what he's doing now—primo adventure and first descents. And that's what he did in 2008 in Pakistan and Brazil, and in 2007 in Newfoundland and Chile. It's a ridiculous life. He toils for a few months to earn enough for life support and airline tickets, and then hops around the world with his kayak. It's not something that you envision, or can even imagine, for your child. But Chris is driven by an endless well of ambition and passion, so I go along, oscillating between pride and terror. Despite my fearful motherliness, I say, Go Chris! 
Some of the guys he's traveling with were the those he followed online as a high school student. Now he's on the other side of the globe with the very kayakers he used to watch. All are fueled by adrenaline and some kind of inner drive I don't understand, and underwritten, for the most part, by sponsors trafficking in glorified plastic and outdoor gear unimaginable to the villagers they'll encounter while chasing virgin Asian whitewater, and also out of reach to many of my neighbors here in Southern Oregon.
His Asian adventure is not a leisurely excursion or a guided trip or anything touristy. It is a rigorous exploration of previously unnavigated, and to most sane people, unnavigable, Himalayan rivers. It's all about determined adventurers (some would say certifiably insane people) out to nail first descents and create yet another heart-pounding extreme kayaking film. Chris and his companions, Ben Stookesberry, Jesse Coombs, Darin McQuoid, and Rafa Ortiz are not even close to what most people would consider sane. Do a search on any of these guys and hundreds of listings appear. All are professional kayakers whose adventures and courage or audacity or stupidity seem rare in the modern world. Well, maybe not the stupidity. That seems common enough.
Last year these guys and a few other intrepids, kayaked the Indus River in the shadow of the Himalayas in Pakistan, then jetted to Brazil to pursue waterfalls. This article about Chris got wide play in the Northwest. And this film in the Hotel Charley series raises my blood pressure every time I see it. It chronicles with stunning images, breathtaking adventure, and even a good story line, what it's like to be a kayaking adventurer. You just can't believe what they're doing. Well, I can't believe it, even though several days after starting this post, I know they're on some unexplored river in northern India testing fate and their own courage and resolve. What adventure. What death defiance.
People ask me about the films, "How can you stand to watch?" I say that I know he came back in one piece, and so I enjoy the films with detachment, except for recognizing my kid is having the time of his life as he tempts his limits and, of course, fate.
I'll have dry mouth, distracted brain for the next couple months. I wonder how the other mothers are faring. Do we ever get used to our sons hurling themselves over waterfalls, dragging 50-pound boats loaded with 35 pounds of gear over snowy mountain passes remote from rescue?
Where are those mothers, anyway? We should have a support group! Where did we go wrong? Or maybe, where did we go right? Or maybe it isn't at about us. Above, Chris on the Indus River in Pakistan. (click on photo to see full view. Photo, Darin McQuoid.
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