The whole clan at Crater Lake: thrilling views, but no nerve-wracking watersports there.
I have a theory about thrill seekers: Their nerves are buried deeper under the skin than mine are. I only need a tiny dose of adventure to feel a tingle of excitement; I don’t need to parachute out of a plane or climb up a perilous mountain pitch to experience an adrenaline buzz. My pulse starts to race, my hands get clammy, my head starts to spin while undertaking activities that would be a blip on the radar of life for an adrenaline-junkie.
Last week on a week-long family vacation in southern Oregon, I was reminded of this hypothesis on an almost daily basis. First up: We discovered the most enchanting lake in Honeyman State Park just south of the coastal town of Florence, Oregon. Ringed by massive sand dunes on one side, and towering coniferous trees on the other, the lake was filled with fresh water even though it lies only two miles from the Pacific Ocean. The water was so inviting to this Piscean mother runner, despite the water being chilly and choppy due to stiff wind. As my family set off on a paddleboat excursion, I walked into the water, tucking my hair under my cap and adjusting my goggles. After a few deep, calming, try-to-warm-me-up breaths, I pushed off the sandy bottom and started plying the rippling surface.
As much as I adore lake swimming, it still unnerves me. The unrealistic fears of fish, snakes, snapping turtles, Nessie, Jason (any Friday the 13th fans reading?!) are strong enough to set my heart racing, especially when coupled with a long-held belief I’m not a strong swimmer. I taught myself how to swim with my face in the water at age 24, and I still sometimes worry my competence will suddenly evaporate, making me sink like a stone. Yet I persevered, swimming nearly a mile roundtrip. Emerging from the water, I was covered with goosebumps, either from the gusty wind buttressing my wet skin—or from the thrill of conquering the challenge.
Ah, to be daredevils like our twins John (red helmet) and Daphne, who zipped around on a zip line course with nary a care in the world.
Like a latte, the lake served up a double-dose of excitement, as we then rented stand-up paddleboards (SUP). For many folk, SUP’ing is a tame sport, especially when done on a lake rather than the ocean. But for me, with my thrill-sensors so close to the surface and my ankle fresh off its fractures, I felt jangly as I cautiously rose from my knees to my feet in the middle of the board. Before I could start paddling, I had to stabilize the board as nerves and unsure balance made it tremble. I calmed my jitters by focusing on the shoreline trees and ferns, brilliant green in the dazzling sunlight. Soon a smile spread across my face, as I delighted in the sense of being strong and solo in nature.
Another water-based adventure made my mouth go dry and sent my brain scrambling a few days later when we embarked on a jetboat tour down the Rogue River. I’d booked the excursion solely on the recommendation of my running partner, Molly, who repeatedly told me our whole family would love it. It wasn’t until the engines roared and the boat skipped along the river’s surface did it zing into my brain that this undertaking would be s-c-a-r-y. My head swiveled from side to side as the river’s banks blurred by the boat; I debated whether I should screech, “let me off this crazy thing!” like my brother had done at age 12 on a Ferris wheel. (Close-to-the-surface nerves must be genetics in the play-it-safe Bowen family.)
Instead, I pulled my ready-to-explode head out of my bum, and pulled my son, John, close. Turns out he also felt anxious. Sharing nervous laughter—then shrieks of delight (instead of screams of panic!)—rinsed away our anxiety. Bonus: I felt a deep, heart-clenching bond with John that is often hard to sustain when he’s in (constant) motion on dry land.
Kiddos and I outside the caves, well before my brain had switched to panic mode.
I saved the final, most extreme-for-me experience for the last day of our trip: a tour of the Oregon Caves. Let me set the stage by sharing a tale from Bowen family lore: When I was about 5 years old, my family toured a massive cave on the East Coast. I clutched my father’s hand with a vise-like grip as my teeth rattled in my head. In his slightly Southern lilt, my dad asked, “Sarah, are you cold?” to which I replied in a hushed voice, “No, I’m scared!” Add to that the claustrophobia I have felt occasionally since my first pregnancy (damn hormones!), and I knew I was going to be freaked by the exploration.
My panic button got pushed less than 10 steps into the cave entrance as I followed my kids in. With my pulse racing and my breathing shallow, I skittered outside to where my husband, Jack, was waiting to bring up the rear. The mossy landscape swirled around my dizzy head as I told him I didn’t think I could do the tour. Jack knew what was up (I’d had a similar experience at a Spanish cave entrance while pregnant); he calmly assured me I’d be fine. Taking a few deep breaths (sensing a theme?), I crouched back into the cave. Chuckling nervously (and uncontrollably) helped me calm down and continue forward. A few minutes later, when the earnest young tour guide asked if anyone needed to be lead out of the cave, I let the moment pass without uttering a peep.
Me, doing my best to put on a “what, me worry?!” attitude.
Yesterday morning, as I reflected on our family trip while lake swimming with Molly, I realized the jittery-nerves-bordering-on-panic feelings I’d repeatedly experienced in the backwoods and waterways of southern Oregon were similar to what I felt before my first few running races and triathlons. And like all those race experiences, all my Oregon adventures turned out to be richly rewarding and self-affirming. And, maybe, just maybe, it’s that slight buzz I keep striving for, whether on vacation or on a race course.
How about you: How close are your thrill-receptors to the surface of your skin?
So close. Thanks for giving me a better phrase than chalking it up to being a wimp.
Years ago, and I am paraphrasing what I recollect, my sister read an article about thrill seeking being related to how a person reacts to adrenaline. It made sense when we would see our husbands and sons bombing down the ski slopes, while we were much more cautious. Some, like she and I, don’t enjoy that adrenaline rush, and get that nervous, stomach ache feeling.
I think it is good to challenge yourself and test your abilities, but also to understand that some of our responses are hard wired.
Apparently sitting wide open in a huge gaping wound. Can’t wait to redeem myself by reading this to the family who refer to me as the “mother of all fun suckers”. :(
YIKES! Not a fun nickname! Glad this post can back you up on your approach to life.
Would you have been more anxious and less likely to follow through with your adventures if you weren’t with your kids? My motto was always “never let them see me sweat” when we were doing things that pushed me out of my comfort zone. I never want them to suffer from the anxiety that I have struggled with! That has helped me overall to conquer things that I normally would eschew. Great post!
I definitely didn’t tell them I semi-freaked on jetboat tour, but they were well aware of my trepidation–then claustrophobia–about cave. I think they were somewhat impressed (in their kid way) that I persevered and went on the tour.
Thanks for praise about post. It was bubbling in my brain for several days, so I was pleased I could share it.
I’m definitely a chicken…. And scared of even little fish in the water…. But there is a great adrenaline rush from conquering a fear, especially when physical activity is involved in doing it. And to do it as a family with your kids is even better. I’ve done SUP in a calm marina…but I’d like to try it in the ocean next.
I just climbed a peak (over 9,000 ft.) I used to run up repeatedly and once held the female record for that ascent. I could barely (at 61) traverse the steep drop offs going up much less on the way down (I scooted on my butt a couple times). I can scare myself in the ocean (shadows of myself on the bottom are always sharks) and the older I get the worse I am about flying. Strangely enough I love zip-lining! It’s all about control in situations. And a little “nerves” is a good thing in triathlon/running races. Makes you go faster!
After reading a bit of your blog (I love it!), I’m glad to know you, too, sometimes think those shadows below are sharks….
Definitely jittery nerves here too! I felt anxiety just reading about your zip line and cave adventure.
how interesting that you attribute your claustrophobia to pregnancy!! I never noticed I was claustrophobic until a few years after I had given birth. now you have me wondering if they are related.
I’m convinced hormones whack with a lot of things (like fact I can no longer tolerate to go on amusement park rides!). I had numerous panicky attacks while pregnant, especially while swimming. OB/GYN said they are hormone related.
My kids comment on some of the “crazy” things I will do with them. I bike down PCMR with my 16 year son, not once but twice. I love to snorkel with them in the ocean and zipline in the mountains. I have learned to hunt pheasants and ducks with my son and husband. I am glad that they push me out of my comfort zone. I would love to go white water rafting with them on our next adventure.
Glad you enjoyed Southern Oregon! I live in Grants Pass, and it’s fun to hear what others think of our attractions. We are very blessed with a lot of natural beauty. Good for you conquering your fears and getting out there. :)
Love that you live in Grants Pass! One of our neighbors grew up there (and named his son “Grant” in honor of his own hometown!) so I had been curious to see it. It’s a bigger city than I expected, and the natural beauty blew me away. Now daydreaming about retiring to southern Oregon!
As someone who gets nervous chasing kids through those plastic tunnels at an indoor play place, I totally get the claustrophobia. No caves for me, thanks!
(and as an aside…Phoebe is looking so grown up now! After reading your site for years, your kids feel so familiar. She’s beautiful!)
Thank you, Jesse, for the Phoebe compliment. One major positive that came out of our trip was spending extended periods of time with Phoebe (and whole family), as she tends to burrow away in her room.
Mine must be buried. I love caves and SUP. Jetboats are ok – kind of tame for me but ok. I’d rather be white water rafting.
I did that jetboat tour twice as a child, and have such good memories of it. I’m glad your family got to experience the Rouge. I’m finding that my fear button gets pushed more and more easily as I get older, and it is harder to shake the intrusive thoughts once they set in. That said, I’m usually up for anything physical like in the article, fear reigns more for me in my professional and family life.