Finding Your Tribe

The following paragraphs are an excerpt from my book, and it’s all about the magic of what happens when a group of amazing people get together for a two-day canoe trip on the river. It’s about friendship. It’s about caring for one another in grace and without question. You can read the full chapter about “Finding Your Tribe” in the section called “August Adventures” in my book, Finding Life In Between, when it comes out later this year.

August Adventures: Finding Your Tribe



Finding Your Tribe: Canoe Partner!

On the morning of the trip, I met my canoe buddy at the designated breakfast place. I promptly thanked him for “taking one for the team” by being my partner. He assured me that everything would work out just fine. I couldn’t help but feel immense gratitude that a complete stranger agreed to basically take care of me if I couldn’t carry my own weight for the weekend. After breakfast, when we got to the place where we put in, he carried my cooler and the heavier items down the slope to the canoe. My new friend did it without question or accusation.

He helped take care of me and was immediately part of my tribe.

Finding Your Tribe: Unicorn Tail

Paddling down the river is a beautiful, peaceful, amazing experience. Paddling down the river with two dozen friends who are equipped with water guns and booze is a beautiful, amazing, super-soaking experience, and it’s ridiculously fun. We laughed during the water wars as the sun beat down on us in the perfect August Wisconsin weather. After several hours of paddling and a few food and drink breaks along the way, we set up tents to camp on a sandbar in time to watch the sun paint the sky in purples and blues as it set behind the trees. I brought along my unicorn onesie (no feet); I thought it would be magical for camping—and it was. It was just comfortable and ridiculous enough to be absolutely perfect for the night. (Yes, I’m a forty-something woman and I have a unicorn onesie. Don’t judge.)

The campfire was blazing. The beers (and White Claws) were flowing. The stories were rolling and we were laughing and happy, relaxing under the starlit sky. The river was peaceful and the moon was gorgeous. It was a perfect night, sitting amongst the good energy and friendly love of our tribe.

Finding Your Tribe: Campfire Magic



The Storm…

All of a sudden the temperature dropped. It happened so quickly it felt like walking into a refrigerated room at the grocery store, except in this case, the refrigerated room had somehow walked into us. Then, out of nowhere, the wind picked up. As if we were one body with one head, twenty-four humans collectively turned to look toward the wind, and we all saw a storm literally rolling toward us on the river. Within a millisecond, the stories and laughter stopped. Silence.

“This is not good,” a voice said.

When the organizer of this trip, who has sixteen years of canoe and camping experience on this very river, says “This is not good,” you know it is not good. In the moments after he said those words, everything seemed to turn upside down. The fire began to blaze horizontally with the wind, and the rain blew sideways off the river as well as down from the sky.

All of us ran to our tents for shelter. I dove into mine, zipped up, and hunkered down to wait for the storm to pass. I sat alone in my tent, covered under the sleeping bag, safe and protected. My tent was over twenty years old. It’s the same one that took me alone into the woods a few years ago. It’s seen a ton of weather, and it has never, ever failed me. I had reception on my phone and plenty of battery, so I kept myself occupied by texting friends. I stopped mid-text when a gust of wind tore the rain fly off my tent and wrapped it around the side pole. The rain immediately assaulted my tent from all angles.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

I waited for a few minutes hoping and praying that the storm would blow over. For a moment I believed that I could will it to stop. It didn’t stop. As the rain kept coming down and the thunder clamored around me, it dawned on me that I actually might not be safe. The water was rising on the floor of my tent. I was absolutely soaked. I’m accustomed to doing things on my own, but this storm was wicked, and I was afraid. The friend I was texting messaged me:

Are you crazy? You’re alone? Get into someone else’s tent!

That message pushed my fear over the edge. I ran out to the nearest tent with a light on, and I knocked on the flap. I didn’t know whose tent it was, but a familiar voice answered, “Candy, get in here!” Within a split second the flap was unzipped and I was in the tent with one of my girlfriends and her boyfriend, sharing their queen air mattress and a blanket.

My tribe, taking care of me, again.



Finding Your Tribe: Damages
(That log was part of the fire the previous night)

None of us got much sleep, and, thankfully, the storm eventually passed. At one point my friend asked me what time it was. I answered that it was 4:41 a.m. We decided to leave the relative safety of the tent and assess the damage.

It was still pretty dark, but the river had come up significantly. As we walked around, we noticed that it had risen up far enough to fully engulf the bonfire we had sat around just hours earlier, and had it raised up any farther, it could have taken over our village of tents. What we also realized was that we only had five of our twelve canoes. We only panicked for a moment and were relieved to find that more canoes were pulled up on the other side of the sandbar. There were four on the sandbar, for a total of nine canoes. Three were missing. That meant that six of us were literally up the creek with no paddles. And no canoes.

Finding Your Tribe: Sunrise on the River

Overwhelmed and slightly defeated, we patiently waited for the sun to rise. I sat in my not-so-magical unicorn onesie in my soaked camping chair digging my toes in and out of the cold, damp sand. I was shivering, cold, exhausted, in pain. All my muscles were tense. I had failed to do the one thing my physical therapist had told me to do, get a good night’s sleep. As far as sitting, no position was comfortable. My trusty tent was now uninhabitable. I had nowhere to lie down.

Completely frustrated, I wanted to do something productive, so I took an inventory of my camping gear. Although my tent was still standing, the rainfly was wrapped around the left side pole. The rain had soaked both my pillow and sleeping bag. When I lifted up my backpack a full tap stream of water drained from the bottom.

My back was aching. And my canoe was one of the ones that the river had taken during the storm. I wanted to rest. It was five in the morning. I went back to my chair and turned it to the east to watch the sunrise, and also to hide my face from everyone in case the tears came. This was the dumbest idea I ever had. Who goes on a canoe trip four months after back surgery? I sat in the chair, cold, wet, and frustrated, and I cried.

Just then, one of the women with our crew came over to see if I was okay. She offered me some ibuprofen and brought me a bottle of water, which I very thankfully accepted. I think she sensed I needed to be alone so she didn’t ask questions, but her quiet thoughtfulness and understanding made me feel a little bit warmer in the misty cool of the early morning.

Finding Your Tribe: Painted Sky

The sun started to come up over the horizon. I watched it set the sky on fire. I I focused on being thankful for so many wonderful things in my life. As the sun climbed higher the air grew warmer, and I decided to change out of my unicorn suit and put on my swimming suit. Out of all the soaked clothing items I had with me in my backpack, it was the one thing meant to be worn wet.

It was still early and pretty chilly. When I got back to the group, one of the guys asked if I wanted his Army blanket to keep warm. I was so grateful that he offered. I wrapped up tight in the blanket. As my body temperature rose, my muscles relaxed and my shivering stopped.

As everyone began to ease into the morning, two girls I used to skate with offered me a dry tank top and pullover to keep warm. Again, I accepted. I was so very thankful that they offered.

A few minutes later, the woman whose tent I slept in had coffee percolating and cheesy hash browns and scrambled eggs cooking over a small fire. The smell of the food and coffee in the fresh morning air was delicious. Savoring hot breakfast in the great outdoors is one of the most satisfying experiences in the world. I retrieved the fresh strawberries and muffins I had packed in my cooler, some of the only things I had brought that were not completely soaked. Someone provided a bottle of mudslide to use as a creamer for the coffee. We all shared cups and plates and forks.

While we gathered and ate an incredible breakfast, we talked and laughed about the stormy events of the last seven hours. I learned that two of our tribe members had come to check on me during the storm, but I was already safe in another tent. The sun rose higher and the air grew warmer. We laughed about three of us sleeping on a queen-sized air mattress. We finished the food and cleaned up camp. The ibuprofen and caffeine kicked in. I was thankful to be with people who were willing to take care of me, who took care of each other. I imagined red ribbons running between all of us.

These are my people. This is my tribe.



Finding Your Tribe: Awesome Friends for the Win!

It came time to figure out how we were going to get the six of us without canoes and all of our gear downriver to the take out point. After some debate, two couples decided to portage over to land and call for a pickup. My canoe buddy and I decided we would like to stay for the duration of the trip if we could work it out. Once that decision was made, our supplies were promptly divided between canoes, and seats were MacGyvered for us to ride on for the balance of the trip.

At that point, some of my friends and I had a brilliant and unorthodox idea: we would blow up my air mattress so the two of them could tow it behind their canoe, and I could lie on it to stretch out my back and relax while being pulled down the river. Floating downriver on an air mattress? Yes, please! That was almost as ridiculous and magical as my unicorn onesie. Of course we had to try it.

We situated ourselves and everyone laughed. We tethered the mattress to the canoe with a bungee cord and assumed our positions. And guess what? It worked, and it was awesome. I felt no pain laying sprawled out on that air mattress on the water under the sun. I napped a little while they paddled. My physical therapist would have been happy. They handed me cold drinks and sunscreen when I needed it. It was absolutely perfect.

After about two hours of paddling, we found a canoe downriver stuck on a log on a sandbar — ours! My shoes and hoodie were still inside, as well as both paddles. It was a Christmas (in August!) miracle! Our tribe gathered around the runaway canoe, we got ourselves sorted and prepared to paddle. My canoe buddy offered to pull me on my air mattress if I’d prefer, and I probably should have taken him up on that, but instead we deflated the air mattress and paddled together.

Those final hours on the river in the sun were perfect. We found the other canoes and towed them back with us, stopping for lunch when the sun was at its highest point so we could talk and laugh about the storm. As we paddled, we replayed the discovery of the missing canoes and discussed how lucky we were that the river didn’t get so high as to flood our whole camp. We marveled at the fact that two of our guys had paddled downstream for an hour hoping to find the runaway canoes, only to come all the way back upstream. Empty-handed.

Finding Your Tribe Shevil Knevils Never Say Die!

We laughed at the idea that they put in three hours of paddling even before half of camp was awake! We relaxed in the water under the August Wisconsin sun, and even though some of us had just met the day before, our bonds of friendship grew closer, our red ribbons binding us together.

The woman who brought me the ibuprofen described the canoe trip perfectly. “It is our confession, catharsis, and redemption.”

She was exactly right.

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Candy Leigh is a Women’s Empowerment Coach and Author. Schedule a complimentary discovery call if you’d like to partner with Candy for 1×1 coaching, book club discussions, or consulting/speaking engagements.

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