There is a high that you get during war that seems to be impossible to retain once you get home. Your pulse is pounding in your ears, you’re so scared you can barely catch your breath but the adrenaline rush is something you would kill to feel again. At that point you have nothing but yourself and your trust for that guy next to you.

My favorite part of the last trip was when Jason and I were getting our butts kicked and bashed through the surf breaks. For the first time since I left the war I got that feeling back. I didn’t get a real breath for probably four or five breaks and I got that same pulse pounding breath-taking adrenaline rush I felt so many times before in little alleyways all over Baghdad.

I was able to keep the panic away and get back on the boat and charge again because of the trust I have in Jason. Once we were through I used the last of my energy to reach back and slap hands with him. WHAT A FEELING!

I am actually having withdrawal now that I am home and have no boat to paddle. I have nothing else to do with my life right now so why not become the best paddler that I can possibly be. A full time paddler…hmm…not a bad life I’d say. I have a ton of rivers to run close to here and can’t wait to increase my skill level until I can become an instructor.

I feel like I have found my niche in life like nothing I’ve felt before. Being in a boat is almost like having my legs back. I mean, legs or no, if you are properly outfitted, everything from the waist down is boat. Another thing is the comraderie. I mean, you guys had just met us and treated us like family. Every little accomplishment merited praise. I feel like I have made friends that will hopefully last a lifetime. Thank you for that.