The river won my soul a few years back. On a midnight float down the Colorado, I encountered my first rapids with some remarkable Moab souls and have never looked back to the girl I was before that night. So when I saw an Ashram that included a rafting trip on the Ganges, it may have swayed me a bit. When I realized they were not planning on doing it, I pushed for it. One way or another, even in the middle of Indian winter, I was going to be on that river. With the interest clear, they booked a trip for eight of us, then only time stood between myself and this whitewater adventure.

Sunday rolled around, and only five of us showed up- it was too cold for some to stick to the plan. They fixed the number by including three of the boys that worked at the Ashram on the trip, which ended up being a lot of fun!

They walked us across Ram Jhula bridge, up the stairways to the road, climbing the foothill amongst the traffic of Rishikesh. We arrived at a jeep-like truck along the side of the road which was waiting for us. The guys climbed in the back (I’ll admit I was a bit jealous. That seemed like a fun spot and reminded me of when I was younger back in Ohio, riding in the bed of a pickup was seemingly normal) and the rest of us squeezed in up front. We found our way along the curvy roads, taking in the scenery and the wild driving which is nonchalant here. As we turned down one road, our driver stopped some men on a motorcycle, where one jumped off of the back and into our truck. I noticed a dry bag in his hand and realized we had just found our guide.

We arrived at the home base for the rafting company, where they lugged the raft on top of the truck and held it down with ropes. I have seen some crazy rig jobs, but the ones here in India have impressed me since day one. Super ballsy. I have seen as many as three 18-ft NRS rafts stacked on top of a single truck. The trucks being no bigger than the one pictured below, mind you.

Once the raft was loaded up we were back on the road, arriving shortly after at the put in. Strapping up our jackets, helmets, and grabbing our paddles we headed down to the beach amongst the many other companies. The view was already spectacular here- the blue-green shimmering water dancing with sunbeams. The tall trees towering and climbing up the Himalayan foothills surrounding us.

I was a pleasantly surprised when our guide started giving a safety talk- I was told they did not do those here. But his giving one correctly indicated that we were in good hands. He turned out to be a truly fun and fantastic guide, regardless of the language barrier.

In the beginning, I was in the back of the boat, watching the people in front of me struggle to paddle together. Being respectful of the guide, I did not speak (not my boat) and he fixed it rather quickly on his own by rearranging our positions and putting me up front which allowed me to help with the communication barrier (for some of us) and keeping the strokes in line and together. This was perfect because it gave me a great seat to scout the rapids, and boy were there some fun ones!

It felt so good to be back on the water, even if it was super chilly. You hardly notice how cold it is when you are out there. We came upon a flat stretch in the river and he offered us the chance to jump in. I was hesitant at first, but after seeing one of the front desk guys hop in the water, I knew I had to take the chance as well. How many times will this be an option in my life?!

A shock to the body, the water does not let you know how truly cold it is for just a few breaths of a moment, and then it hits. But it was bearable, for all the beauty of the moment. Most everyone got in at one point or the other, just to experience the sacred river. He offered the chance quite a bit throughout the trip, and only two times did I refuse. As we came upon one of the rolling white-capped rapids, he offered for us to swim it, and how could one not? I realized my mistake quickly through, though, as he instructed us to hold onto the boat and the water ripped me under the boat, again and again, hardly allowing me to stay up and breathing between the waves. As soon as I could be, I was back in the boat.

The adventure was not over yet! Three-fourths of the way through the trip we pulled over to the right river bank, where there were tea stands, plenty of people gathered and boats hanging out by this medium-height rock cliff. Some people were jumping off of it, others being pushed and the majority standing back and enjoying the laughable scene with warm tea. While those were probably the smarter people, I did not join them.

I made my way up the cliff and recalled the time just a few years back when I was absolutely terrified to jump off a cliff into the water. But my friends Jesse and Noah showed me their skills (backflips and tricks much better than my simple leap) and how thrilling it can be. Besides, this spot was insanely safe. It truly is not even that tall (between 15-25 ft), clear of rocks and deep water beneath you, with a kayaker working as a spotter at the bottom. Besides that, everyone’s wearing helmets and lifejackets. So it surprised me to see how nervous some people were. Once up there I had many people cut in front of me and give me strange looks, and a few asking about my tattoo, “lokah samastah sukhino bhavantu,” (may all beings be happy and free and may my life in some way contribute to that happiness and freedom for all) wondering if I knew what it meant and being legitimately surprised when I did. This gave me a giggle seeing as how I did have it put on my body, I sure would hope I knew the meaning!

Finally, it was my turn, and, jumping on two, I found the magical thrill of falling through the air for just a moment before colliding with the icy water below. Once I got back to shore, Darrio asked me if I had gone, my dripping wet hair not enough of an indication (I kid). He had not seen me go and requested I jump again. This time more of the group decided they wanted to try it, Ylva and Ronnie making their way up the cliff. However by the time we got up there the guide was in the boat and calling for us to come back, so I took the quickest route by jumping in and swimming to him, while Ylva followed suit, everyone else chose the dry option.

We finished up our trip by passing under Laxman Jhula bridge and getting dropped off at the beach closest to our Ashram. It was rather humorous walking up the streets of Rishikesh soaking wet, our shoes squishing and laughing most of the while. We were all wet and cold, but our hearts were warm and full from the beautiful day in nature. Even though I did end up with a cold lasting the next few days, there are no regrets. It is never a bad day on the river.