MY STORY LIVING THE AMERICAN DREAM

by Fiona Harding

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon in January; the spirit of Christmas was long gone and I was feeling rather miserable. What better way to cheer myself up than plan the summer vacation? It had to be something special--I had just turned 40, my husband Colin had reached the big 5-0, and it would be our last big family holiday before our eldest daughter Lucy went off to University. I pushed our son Fred off the computer and set to work. I thought--if I could be anywhere in the world, away from this gray, cold London, where would it be? My mind turned to the vast possibilities that America has to offer. As a family we love adventure, and having roamed the Alps on several occasions, doing our best impression of the von Trapp family, I knew the holiday had to be challenging and fun. River Wild, with a helping of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, seemed to fit the bill. I set to work searching websites for ranches and rafting companies. I printed off yards of information and finally narrowed down my choices and sent off my e-mails. After much back and forth with adventure providers, and planning with my family around the kitchen table, it was decided: five days of rafting down the Arkansas River in Colorado, followed by a week at a ranch in Shawnee, Colorado. The weeks between planning the trip and the date of departure went slowly and on many occasions I visited the websites of our adventure providers and dreamed myself already there. Finally, after much planning, dreaming, and anticipation, we were on the plane and on our way to Denver. From the moment we landed to the day of our departure we lived our dream. We had a few nights in Denver to get used to the altitude, (we live at sea level), and then we headed for Buena Vista. Our first night was spent at the most adorable bed and breakfast. It overlooked the Arkansas River, and as we sat on the bank that first night even our imaginations could not conjure up the wonders to come. The next day, after a very friendly welcome from our adventure providers, we boarded a big yellow bus and surveyed the people we would be spending the next five days with as we rafted down 80 miles of river. It had been all my idea and it was going to be my entire fault if anything went wrong. From the moment we put our rafts in the river on our first day, to the final time we took the rafts out of the water, we had some of the best moments of our lives. We got wet, we got scared, and we laughed until our sides split. We ate like kings and slept like babies. Each of our crew had their own special talents--whether it was baking incredible cakes over a fire in a dutch oven, plunging into the river to pull a boat off rocks, or entertaining us with various campfire songs and games-they never ceased to amaze us. Wyatt stole Anna's heart because his humor was so English. However, we are still trying to erase the memory of Colin attempting the stick dance. The only problem was, that day one to day five, went too fast. As we loaded up our car and said our goodbyes, we knew we would be back. Then, we moved on to the next stage of our American adventure-the ranch. We were already reminiscing, as we drove north, passing through South Park where we visited an old school house and saloon in the village museum, which set the mood perfectly for the next part of our holiday. A light rain had started to fall. We wondered, and even worried, whether the ranch would be a letdown after such an exhilarating time on the river, but, as the rain stopped and we approached the gate to the ranch, a rainbow framed the view. Who wouldn't call that an auspicious start? Karen and Dean, our hosts, were there to meet us. We had spoken by e-mail and telephone, so they already felt like old friends. The horses were in the corral, the North Platte River was running through the paddock and I felt like I had just died and gone to heaven. I nearly burst into tears; it was so beautiful. We were shown to our stunning rooms, (all rooms had log fires and colorful quilts), given drinks and cookies, and introduced to our own horses for the week. Cheyenne was mine and she was gentle and obeyed, even my somewhat uncertain commands. The girls and I thought the wranglers were a delight and my husband Colin agreed--probably because the head wrangler was a rather lovely 5'10'' blonde named Megan. The food was great and mealtime was like a scene from The Waltons: "John-Boy pass down that pumpkin pie, I just gotta have another slice." Again, the days passed far too quickly-- bake outs, line dancing, Will Dudley serenading us, and long rides through some of the most scenic country I have ever visited. This time it did all end in tears. As I rode into the corral on the last day and hugged Cheyenne for the last time the tears rolled down my face. I had actually lived my dream. I had gone back to a time of adventure when every day held a new challenge--when there was no TV, no computers, and lots of time to talk, eat and immerse oneself in nature . . . a dream come true. Thank you, Colorado.

Fiona Harding is a mother and an adventurer living in England.