Family Rafting on the San Juan River

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Outside Traveler 2004

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Family Vacations
A Riffle in Time (cont)

Southwest Ed-Ventures is no ordinary outfitter. It's the ecotourism arm of the Monticello, Utah–based Four Corners School of Outdoor Education, a nonprofit that uses the proceeds from Southwest Ed's programs—among them, multiday arts seminars with the Hopi in Arizona and wolf-tracking outings in Yellowstone—to fund a 25-year initiative to install outdoor-education programs in 426 elementary schools in the Four Corners states. The program has made significant strides in its first four years, thanks to the persistence of the Four Corners School staff, who, when they aren't running trips, are working toward raising the eco-consciousness of thousands of kids.

Each outing is anchored by an expert staff member, and ours was Robin Blankenship, from Earth Knack, a Colorado school of Stone Age living skills, which she runs with her husband, Mike O'Donal. We didn't know what we were in for as we shoved off that first morning, or after the first few hours of jumping in the water to cool off and drift on the current. But after lunch, we all found ourselves banging rocks together at just the right spot to send a shock wave into the stone, slowly chiseling it into a blade or an arrowhead. It was equal parts history lesson, physics tutorial, and how-to on surviving with two hands and a brain.

This was followed by more lazy floating, with canyon wren songs for background music, and a rest stop to gander at Anasazi pictographs. After we pulled into Cottonwood Camp and set up our tents—light camping gear and clothing are the essentials, plus ample sunscreen—Mike gave us a lesson on fire starting.

Flint knapping had left a few gouges in my knuckles, and I'd gathered that basket weaving was not in my genes—perhaps my ancestors all carried their stuff in animal hides. But making bright, hot fire where none existed before? Now I was getting in touch with my inner pyromaniac. Mike demonstrated the methods of bringing together the three necessary elements: fuel, heat, and oxygen. A few of us scootched our camp chairs closer, intent on fending off the encroaching darkness with light that didn't come from Duracells.

"This can be kinda hodd," said Mike, a Maine native turned Rocky Mountain hunting guide. "It might take you a few tries." He instructed me to shift my weight a certain way as I worked the moose-rib-and-twine bow back and forth, spinning the dowel and pressing down hard. After a minute I got into a groove, and a sweaty minute or two after that, as heated particles formed, we could see smoke ghosting up from under the wood.

"Now!" said Mike, and I stopped spinning, pulling up the plank to reveal: embers. I'd done it—on my first try. I dusted off my hands and glanced at Grace with that strong-provider look, then slept well as the San Juan gurgled by.

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