The Colorado River's Lava Falls and one silly moment on video

On April 18, I set off with my boyfriend's family for what would be the trip of a lifetime. On the way, I made myself sick to my stomach with worry. We were headed to the Grand Canyon for 15 days of white water rapid-filled fun on the Colorado River. Only, I was freakin' out, petrified that I'd fall into the water and drown. Doesn't sound like fun, does it?
On the entire 4.5 hour-drive from Phoenix to Marble Canyon, near the put-in spot, the place we'd begin our river raft tour, I wasn't thinking of the professional guides we'd be with, the life preservers we'd be wearing for safety, nor the fact that thousands of visitors take this same trip year after year. All I was thinking about was that my boyfriend, who was supposed to be my hero, couldn't go, and I was going to have to save myself should the need arise. I wasn't sure I could do that. I knew I'd panic. I wanted my security blanket, in this case, my boyfriend. So as the only couple in our family outing without my partner, I was feeling sunk--and my toes hadn't even touched water yet.

Whoa! I know that's a lot of anxiety--and unrealistic--for anyone, but especially for a person who thrives on turning obstacles into opportunities. But I just wasn't sure I knew how to fix this challenge. I wasn't sure I had the ability to relax and really have fun. I could only hope that it would happen. And that's why I still wanted to go. I had that hope I could overcome this inner battle. Obviously, I had something to prove to myself and knew this trip was something I needed to do. I knew my hero was really me. I just didn't know what tool I would use to find her.

I should have known it would be humor.

By Day 12, we hit the rapid of all rapids, Lave Falls. It was the one we most anticipated. It was the one we were told was the Big Kahuna. It was the one I really feared. I'd survived all the others. No one had flipped a raft. There'd been no passenger fall-ins. We'd moved past all the earlier rapids, even the ones that required scouting, with relative ease--and lots of laughs. But this one still daunted me. It was the one the guides talked about in whispers. It was the one my friends back home worried about. It was the one I thought might do me in.

And then a funny thing happened. Despite the anxiety that bubbled up in the pit of my stomach when I first heard the rapid about a 1/4 mile away...despite the fact that I could see Lava's rapids shooting up into the air, reaching out her liquid arches like fingers, ready to pull you in...when we finally stopped to get out and get close enough for the big scouting adventure, all I could see was the right way into it. As we made our way through the trails up the hill to look down below at the river and what awaited us there, I could see for myself that Lava Falls didn't look so bad. She looked no worse than the rapids we'd already been through before. And we'd made it through all of those just fine. I started to relax.

Thus, the video above. By the time this moment arrived, I'd resigned myself to the knowledge that our guides would get us through this one without incident. By this time, laughter and relaxation had taken over my days-long fear. And Lynn Etter, the videographer, decided we'd pretend to be the scouts. So join us as we relive this moment, just before we enter the throes of Lava Falls Rapid. With a rating as high as a 10, the highest rating for a rapid, a rapid that should offer all the challenge the raging waters can bring on, this one acted more like an 8, maybe a 7. Whatever she was on the ratings meter, for us, she was a lot of fun. And I definitely enjoyed riding her up, up and up--and then back down into calm waters again. Take a look and see what I mean. Then...

Tell me about a time when something scared you silly, to the point that you would have turned back if given the choice? What happened? How did you conquer that fear?

Recovery: Nurturing yourself

During Recovery, it's important to remember to take care of yourself. Your physical health is equally as important as your mental health. The two go hand in hand.

Today, I was able to spend the morning at the Sheraton Wild Horse Pass spa. Called Aji, I took time out of my day to enjoy one of their new treatments there. The treatment's not even on the menu yet, but my contact there offered me the opportunity to be one of the first guests to sample it ahead of time.

Called the Four Directions Treatment, the two-part service was created by Dawn Enos, one of the culture caregivers at the resort, which is on land owned by the Pima Indians. Inspired by a Native American creation story, Dawn modeled the treatment after the four directions on earth. Using four indigenous ingredients you can find on the reservation, she says the colors each symbolize a direction: pomegranite, which is red for west; salt or white for east; honey, which is tan for south; and blue cornmeal for the north.

Enos combines the mixture in front of you, explaining the creation story as she pours. For this treatment, you lay on a table tub under a Vichy shower--a hinged overhead shower with several heads that a massage therapist uses to rinse off treatment product. After she scrubs you on one side, she rinses you off with a cascade of warm water from above. Then you turn over for the back portion, which I thought was the most relaxing. It's not a treatment for shy types, though, as you're not fully covered at any time during this treatment.

The second portion of the treatment involves moisturization with a citrus lotion. For that, you go to another treatment room, where you'll lay on the typical massage table. Moving from the soft scent of honey to a very strong blood orange and lemon scent really awakens the senses. In fact, I can still smell the lotion on me. And Dawn gave me what was left to take home.

After a relaxing lunch out by the pool, I was ready to go home and go to bed.

But work called me.

Nevertheless, if you're not taking time out for special treatments like this once in a while--even if it's a more affordable bubble bath at home--you might need to schedule some nurturing time.

What are some ways you have nurtured yourself in the past?


(Above photo provided by Sheraton Wild Horse Pass Resort & Spa)

My book: Backroads & Byways of Arizona

Kermit Hummel, editorial director, Countryman Press, had this to say today about my book (so I am told by Kim Grant, the acquisitions editor):

"...just went through the proofs for Backroads & Byways of Arizona. What a splendid little book. It just makes the place incredibly interesting and varied. Great job on this by Jackie Dishner."

You must celebrate your successes, so as they say in Twitterland, "Woot!"

The paths we must take

I can't tell you that I ever dreamed I'd write a travel guide, because I didn't. It wasn't a dream I can remember ever having. In fact, I never expected to write a book.

I didn't think about that until I started riding my bike. And the book I thought I would write then had nothing to do with travel...at least not in the touristy kind of sense.

The book I dreamed about writing, and will write next, had to do with the journey in my head. That will be my BIKE LESSONS book. But it's not time for that one yet.

Despite the 35-page proposal I wrote for what I can call my dream book now, that work morphed into a travel guide. Not physically. But by coincidence, perhaps serendipity.

My BIKE book idea didn't take off when I thought it would, because, I know now, it wasn't yet time. I was given a different choice. I met people, by circumstance, who led me down a different path.

And I must admit, it's a path I'm glad I took, because I have always wanted to travel all parts of Arizona. Because of that, my natural instincts took over, and I knew exactly what to do to get a completely different proposal off the ground. I included in it places I have always wanted to visit: Tubac, Lake Havasu City, Greer. And I did visit all of those places.

The other trips taken for research for the travel guide involved places I'd never heard much about before--Aravaipa Canyon, Page Springs, Young. I was open to exploring them, because they included a history or amenity or peculiarity that seemed interesting to me and, based on reading about them ahead of time, worthwhile. Aravaipa Canyon is a lush and remote region of the Sonoran Desert that is relatively unknown. It's a place for backpackers and birders and people who don't mind hiking in a stream bed. It sounded intriguing, and I was invited to go by friends unexpectedly. Page Springs? That visit involved another invite, and I learned what was once not much more than ranchland is now a place ripe with vineyards. And Young? It comes with a very remote piece of Arizona history that wasn't very pretty at the time but is quite attractive now.

At some point, I realized this travel guide was the exact path I needed to take in order to get to the place I needed to go. My BIKE book awaits. It is patient. And I am learning to be.

I recall some hesitancy as I moved forward with the Arizona travel. I was driving places I'd never been before, using maps I'd never held, looking for signs I'd never seen. It was all so new. What I understand this book to be about now is preparation. Preparation for a bigger project. It came with quite a huge learning curve. And I made it to the end. Such a good feeling when I consider all that it took to get here. It helped me build a confidence I will need for the next book, for my dream book, which I expect to have a far greater impact.

The amazing thing to me is that I now realize different people approach the same place differently. I have written a book that is similar to what others have written. But no two people will ever see it quite the same. Some of the places I visited would never make a list of 1001 places you should see before you die, but they are all beautiful just the same. They all have their own story to tell. And I'm glad I am now able to be one of the story tellers.

While researching and writing this book I learned yet another important lesson: The paths we think we want to take are not always the ones we need at the moment. But if we keep moving forward, the paths we must take will appear when we are ready to see them. When they do, it's then time to make a choice: take it or turn away.

The next time you cross a path you're not sure you should take, maybe because it takes you where you weren't expecting to go, how will you know what to do? Do you think there is a right or a wrong? Share your thoughts. Perhaps you have some insights we haven't yet heard.

(The above photo of the West Baldy Trail near Greer, Arizona was taken in June 2009 by Jackie Dishner.)

Surround yourself in nature's beauty

If you're trapped indoors all the time, you're missing out on the most natural way to mend the mind--nature.

Plan outdoor walks, weekend excursions (even if it means a road trip to the nearest park), or some kind of last-minute getaway. Nature offers naturally what the mind and body needs to heal itself, especially if you're talking about stress, fear or anxiety--three things that can get in the way of a person's forward movement.

The above photo, of course, is an extreme example of what I mean by getting out in nature. I took it at sunrise from the balcony of my hotel at Monument Valley in January. It's one of the majestic rock formations called a mitten. At Monument Valley on the Navajo Reservation in northern Arizona, there is no such thing as a bad view. Have you ever seen anything so peaceful?

I bet you can find something equally (enough) as lovely where you live.

Imagine what it would be like to sit on that balcony where I sat and just stare at the rock formations like these that surround your space. Maybe you're sipping a cup of hot coffee or tea. As the sun rises, you witness the many layers and colors of the sky take shape behind the stone monuments, creating a palatte of pleasure for your mind you don't want to escape. Pretty soon, that's all your mind needs. There is nothing else. It's captured your attention and won't let go. Not a bad place to be "kidnapped."

I would say I was lucky to be able to visit this magnificent place this year as part of research for my travel guide. But sights like these are exactly why I focus my work around travel. It's something I've purposely chosen so that I can incorporate nature into my life's work. I learned on those bike rides of mine that got me through my roughest times: nature is man's best medicine. At a time when my therapist kept suggesting anti-anxiety pills, I kept saying, "No, thanks. I have a bike." That's what worked best for me. I'd like to think it would be more prevalent a prescription than pills.

Even if your job, career, or business doesn't involve the outdoors, you can make time for it on the weekends or evenings just by taking walks through your neighborhood. You don't have to plan a grand experience. That's not important. What's important is that you give yourself time to just be. Time without letting stress, fear or anxiety get in the way of your thoughts is a beautiful thing. It's a rare thing for some, but it's a necessary thing for all, I think.

Some of our nation's most notable men in history attest to the benefits of the outdoors as well. David Thoreau, for instance, the author of Walden, once said he could not preserve his health and spirits unless he spent at least four hours a day in the woods, hills, and fields where he lived. But it was Hippocrates, the Greek philosopher and "father of modern medicine," who first referred to walking as man's best medicine.

If you don't think you'll be going anywhere anytime soon, there's always your backyard, or a chair by a window. Just sit and watch. Soon, you'll see the birds flying around, or you'll hear them chirping and cooing back and forth. Maybe you'll see a squirrel scurry across the lawn. Maybe you'll view an ant carry his giant crumb across the sidewalk.

If nothing else, just sit and watch.

Pretty soon, you'll see what I mean.

Do you have a meditative or healing experience with the outdoors that you'd like to share with us? If so, post your comment below and let us know what you think about surrounding yourself in nature's beauty.