Tag Archives: 10 things I want to do before I die

Her Colorado River Account

The truth is, she would have signed up for that kayaking trip whether it was August 4 or not. A friend – a fellow writer – who loved the beauty of the great outdoors the same way she did, had organized the trip. It was at least her eighth time on the water that year, but who’s counting? Besides, it was a kind of opened-ended goal for her to touch the Colorado River in as many places as possible.

A few years before, she had hiked beyond the headwaters of the Colorado River in Grand County Colorado – hiked all the way further in to Rocky Mountain National Park where the headwaters were merely snow that was melting and flowing under the ice beneath her feet. It was cold, very cold that April and the paved road had not yet opened for the season. On another trip, she rolled up her pant legs and waded into the river water at Lake Havasu. She visited the Salton Sea and crunched among the heaps of dead sea shells and fish bones. She hiked riverfront trails wherever she could find them and dipped her toes at Glenwood Springs, Rifle and Debeque Canyon; Palisade, Grand Junction, Fruita – and all the way down Highway 128 into Moab Utah. Her love of the Colorado River and its tributaries grew as friends urged her into a kayak on the Gunnison (Escalante to Bridgeport) and a placid-but still Grand – portion of the Colorado from Palisade to Grand Junction.

When you get the chance to paddle, you do. But the fact that it was August 4, made it oh so serendipitous. The part of her that loved history, indeed, the part of her that loved core knowledge and interdisciplinary learning and the way every piece of knowledge connects with another; the interpretive part that is fascinated by reenactments and tribute bands and trips down memory lane; that part of her savored the fact that it was August 4, 2019, exactly 150 years after John Wesley Powell and his expedition crew made their way down this very stretch of river.

On the night of August 3, 1869, Powell and his men camped somewhere near the Crossing of the Fathers (Dominguez and Escalante) on the Grand River. They rose the morning of August 4 and rowed the stretch of river ending at the juncture with the Paria River in Marble Canyon.

On the night of August 3, 2019, she slept in her own bed in Greenehaven, AZ, some 10 miles from the narrow gorge that is the Colorado River in Page, AZ. She rose the morning of August 4, 2019 and drove the 45 miles from Page AZ to what is now Lee’s Ferry just north of Marble Canyon. At Lee’s Ferry, the group caught a backhaul that transferred participants and kayaks just about as far up river as you can go given the presence of Glen Canyon Dam. Once dropped off, some paddled upriver a bit until they could see the power lines and the tunnel where commercial rafts put in just below the dam. When the entire group of eight had gathered on the beach at Fairy Swale, they were underway. Weather wise, it could not have been a more perfect day. The group paddled leisurely down a lazy river, beaching for short hikes to explore petroglyphs; pitied the hoards gathered at the top of Horseshoe bend while the river runners had the river nearly to themselves; caught a current here and there and lounged in kayaks letting the river do the work. The rain clouds rolled in, made the light picture-perfect, but did not rain enough to chill or drench. A pontoon boat passed and then anchored in a cove up ahead and a local musician provided an impromptu concert on the river. Thus, this became Music Canyon, despite being several miles further downriver than the one so named by Powell. The group of eight persons and seven kayaks continued on, exchanging positions, engaging in conversations with different members of the diverse group, getting to know biographies.

With such halcyon circumstances, she forgot all about the stories of paddling against the wind – until it happened. About two miles out from Lee’s Ferry, the wind kicked up. Strong. Blowing up river. Around that same time, she was shunted off to the right by a little eddy, while other members of the group caught a stronger current to the left. Try as she might, she could not catch up. A women more than 5 years her senior outstripped her by 500 meters and disappeared around the bend. This was not her first experience paddling against the wind. Knowing she was in better condition than on any previous trip, she straightened her back, braced her legs, shoved her butt into the seat and began to power paddle – – without effect. Gradually the river carried her downstream. Eventually, she straggled in at Lee’s Ferry, the last of the group to arrive and not the first to exclaim, “Wow! What a trip! What a perfect day!”

She smiled broadly. There was a bit of a lilt, if not a swagger, to her step. She had just added another 15 miles to her Colorado River account.

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The Paria Riffle
The Paria Riffle

New Year, same lofty goals. 365 days to live.

This year, I want to know more who I am each day; to pursue heartily the person I am created to be, though it may take me a few degrees outside my angle of comfort.

Cherry Odelberg - I write about relationships Photo credit Kevin Decker 2010
Cherry Odelberg – I write about relationships Photo credit Kevin Decker 2010

Happy New Year!  I am only a few days late, so I’ll make it simple.  My goal this year is the same as last: To live as though I have been given 365 days to live. Why reinvent the wheel?  Some who have gone before have said it much better:

“The purpose of life, after all, is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experiences (Eleanor Roosevelt).”

“No Reserves. No Retreats. No Regrets (William Borden).”

Promptly with the new year, a new book crossed my path and was subsequently loaned me by a good friend.  20,000 Days and Counting (Robert D. Smith), is a slim manuscript, in which I found the words of William Borden quoted above.  From the author himself, I enjoyed these nuggets which apply directly to 365 days to live:

“Live each day as if it were your last – imminent death inspires clarity of purpose.”

“There is no thought that will purge your priorities of worthless and worldly tastes like that of your impending death.”

For me, there are still many places to go and people to see.  The year past was not one of travel and travel is on my bucket list.   I still want to see the wonders of all 50 States and some foreign places as well.  I want to talk deep and laugh with my children.

There were things I experienced this year that had not made it to my bucket list, yet made for richer life. I hiked most of the trails in Colorado National Monument; many in solitude, most in sunshine, and once in moonlight with my brother and sister-in-law. I plunged into the Colorado and Gunnison Rivers in a borrowed kayak with no reserves, no retreat, and certainly no regrets. I reclaimed my right to share my musical gift by singing in a quartet and tickling the ivories at retirement centers. My spirit has been too full of fear and reticence for over 50 years. May I remember, “I am always divinely guided…I will always take the right turn in the road…God will make a way where there is no way (Norman Vincent Peale).”

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I’ll stay until it’s time for me to go. Part 1 of 365 days to live revisited

Andy Williams, Elvis Presley and Neil Diamond crooned, “Then I’ll stay, until it’s time for you to go (Buffy Sainte-Marie).”  Though I am a tenaciously loyal soul, this has been my chosen motto and mission this year.

It is one thing to commit, in marriage, for life.  Quite another to commit wholeheartedly when you don’t know how long the life of a project, activity or job may be.  I am learning, ever so slowly, to hold things loosely, not to base my dreams, goals, or life on any one particular outcome, event or circumstance; not to control the response of another.

I am learning that you cannot force the outcome with relationships; job, social, spiritual, even love.

The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image (Thomas Merton)”

One of the ways I let those I love – including me (because how can you love your neighbor as yourself if you don’t love yourself well enough?) – be perfectly themselves; one of the ways I remember to hold jobs and opportunities loosely; is to go about humming quietly:

tongue in cheekDon’t ask why,

Don’t ask how

Don’t ask forever…

I’ll stay until it’s time for me to go.

Elvis, Neil Diamond, Andy Williams; they sang so convincingly.  Now, the task is to convince myself.

NOT on the BUCKET List


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Originally uploaded by ein feisty Berg

Forget the negative things for a moment and consider with me: A lot of great things happen in life that are NOT on one’s Bucket List. When you made that goal list (for instance, in high school) did you ever dream all the GOOD experiences you would have between that time and this? Sure you were told, “You can be anything you want to be!” But, did you really know all the things you would be between then and now? Did you even know the possibilities existed for some of the fabulous things you have experienced? A valid, thoughtful list of “ten things I want to do before I die,” or “list of things I want to do before I kick the bucket,” is made only after one tastes a bit of life, makes a few detours, and refocuses priorities. Take this picture of my dad with ALL my children and ALL my grandchildren. They are one of life’s greatest joys; yet, as a very young adult, I would never have dreamed of putting them on the list beyond a casual, “get married and have kids.”