I grew up in suburban Sydney as a sporty academic kid. I was at my happiest when I was active. My love and talent for sport was an important part of my identity. It was the source of my future aspirations. However, in my first year of university, I found a boredom and unease with my life. The everyday comfort  scared me and I needed to break free of the mundane routine I had gotten myself into.

Heading to Canada

After finishing my undergrad degree I decided to take a gap year. I traveled for 6 months around Europe and then decided to work in a ski resort in Canada. The unpredictability of travel and adventure had me hooked. My return to Sydney was canceled and I decided to plan for a summer in the great white north. I did what any millennial would do and Googled: “Things to do in Canada for summer.” And bang, the first hit was rafting. 

I clicked on the website for a rafting resort located in wilderness BC and saw that they were looking for interns for a summer rafting guide program. I thought to myself, “This could be fun.” My world changed with that thought. I had no experience with rafting or the outdoors. I believe I was selected on the sole basis of my enthusiasm and gunned-ho attitude. I packed my things, swapped the snowy mountains for the flowing rivers and the skis for a paddle and set out on what was the most challenging but rewarding thing I’ve ever done.

I remember how nervous I was on my first day of guide school. I had already invested so much time and money into something in which I had no clue. The thrill of the unknown made me feel more alive than ever. From the moment I set foot in the raft I felt this immense feeling of satisfaction and adrenaline which instantly had me addicted.

I was about half way through the summer when we were practising flipping rafts. I was reaching for the gripper to pull myself up onto the capsized raft when I heard this awful yet familiar sound. A few years prior I had popped my shoulder out playing netball and it had happened again. Only this time I was in the middle of a raging river. I screamed out in pain as I struggled to get on top of the raft. Somehow I managed to flip it upright and scramble back in. Luckily my shoulder had found a way back into my socket in the midst of this. The pain was bad yet manageable and the thought of stopping my progression towards becoming a guide was more painful. I took one day off and then continued the summer as usual. My days evolved around not letting my shoulder be a problem. I would strap it for every trip, apply copious amounts of deep heat, and work through a significant amount of strength training and rehab. The fragility of it was always in the back of mind. 

After a grueling 8 weeks of training, I finally got signed off and was qualified as a grade 3 guide. I still remember the overwhelming joy I felt after my first commercial trip but also the ache in my shoulder.

Determined to Succeed

I left for the North Island of New Zealand to raft the next season. My shoulder continued to ache on and off and I dedicated a lot of time into looking after it. My drive and love for rafting never faded and I wanted to take the next step. I moved to the South Island and started training for my grade 4-5 qualification. I thought the previous guide school was intimidating, but this was next level. In Canada, half the interns were female. Now I was the only female for the majority of the season, and I was a trainee. This only fueled my heart’s fire. I was determined more than ever to prove to everyone, but most importantly to myself, that I was good enough to keep up with the boys.

Playing around in grade 4-5 whitewater isn’t the most placid experience and I felt way out of my depth. We were practising flipping rafts when that deathly familiar, unnerving sound happened again. Only this time, the pain and disappointment of injury was a thousand times worse. I was not ready to throw in the towel. I wasn’t going to let this hinder achieving my goal, however, I was beginning to realise this could not be ignored. I was in denial about how serious it was, I had always brushed it aside because I didn’t want to face the reality that this might end my career as a raft guide. I ended up seeing a specialist who gave me an extensive exercise program to follow and referred me to a surgeon.

Broken Wings and a Crippling Reality

Two weeks later I was back into training however the fear of my shoulder still lingered in my mind. I powered on with a determination and perseverance like no other and got my 4-5 qualification. I was over the moon! I had put so many hours into training and overcame so many barriers both mentally and physically to get where I was. It was in the surgeon’s consultation however, where I came crashing back down to earth. He told me I had significantly damaged the connective tissue in my shoulder that required surgery to fix. Surgery required time, surgery required recovery, surgery required at least 6 months off from rafting…

I had already lined up my next two seasons of work: I had planned to go to California and then come back to New Zealand. Because the surgeon told me that it wasn’t urgent, I mentally prepared myself for one more year of rafting.

With 3 weeks left in the California season, I headed to a rapid where guides paddled off of a waterfall solo. I was still addicted to the adrenaline, even after 20 times. It always did scare me. I entered from the top, a little too right, when my boat took a nosedive and I went flying into the compartment in front of me. It took me a moment to come to my senses. I sat up, looked down at my right shoulder, and saw its position. Then came the pain. 

It was an agonising stabbing that put my entire body into shock. After 20 minutes, which felt like a lifetime, the guides managed to pop it back into place. Then came the crippling reality – it was my good shoulder. I now had a left shoulder that required surgery and a freshly dislocated right. It was a hard reality to face. I was returning to a grade 4-5 river with two broken wings. I spent hours debating my options but it was clear. It was time for surgery.

Patience and Rehabilitation

Rehabilitating two shoulders was a torturous process. The worst part of the process was still remaining in the rafting community yet feeling like an outsider. My roommates would come home after a day on the water and I would be overwhelmed with feelings of jealousy and despair as I spent the day sitting in a sling. I had to keep reminding myself that this stagnation was only temporary. Throughout the rehab I had organised and planned the most epic return to rafting. When I was able, I would return to Canada, continue to Idaho and then Peru. Then Covid-19 hit. It was another roadblock towards my triumphant return to rafting. I felt like I couldn’t catch a break. However, this was really a blessing in disguise. Rafting was out of the question for the winter so I turned to the gym and focused on my rehab. 

Today, I am working for a multi-day rafting company in New Zealand and my shoulder has never felt better. Rafting sparked this drive and motivation in my life that I had thought I lost. I have encountered many obstacles in my short career but I have somehow seem to come out the other side stronger. It has challenged me to grow both physically and mentally. Despite all the injuries, when people ask me if I will ever return to my old life in Sydney, Australia, the answer is simple. Absolutely not.