Holthoff 1

Zep Holthoff
Dr. Crisp
Best-Selling Nonfiction
05/07/2015

My Escape
When my father suggested that we go kayaking on the Illinois River in July of 2011, I
reluctantly agreed. At the end of May, I left Southeast Arkansas to stay with my dad in
Springdale. I was tired of school, and saw the summer as an opportunity to get my mind right
and escape the drama that surrounded my first two years of college. I wasnt big on nature at the
time, and I looked forward to a lazy summer, complete with air conditioning and and other
modern conveniences. After a lackluster sophomore year, I did not want to see another exam, or
even attempt to write another paper. I was exhausted. I assumed that the greatest mental
challenge I would face during the Summer would involve deciding what to watch on dads
brand-new, plasma screen T.V. I was living a college students dream, until dad hinted at his
crazy proposal. I had been staying with my dad and step-mother for about three weeks when he
came home one evening and pitched his idea.
You know, boy, some of Melissa's coworkers are going canoeing over the fourth of July
holiday, my dad began.
Yeah. Soooooo? I replied.
Well, we havent really done anything together since you got to town. I figured it would
be good for us to get out and do something. Besides, I thought you liked stuff like that.
I mean, yeah, I do. Kind of. I dont know, though. I was kind of enjoying my lazy
Summer.

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Dad eyed me for a brief moment, and began laughing.
What? I asked defensively. They are showing a 007 marathon on T.V. all next week.
You know I cant miss that.
Youre a mess, boy. Were going. Its only for a day, and you know it will be fun. You
can watch James Bond all you want when we get back. Hell, Ill even rent you the
movies. I know youll enjoy this trip.
I didnt want to argue with my dad. After all, he was letting me live rent-free for three
months. I didnt have to get a Summer job or go to school, so the least I could do was join my
dad for a day on the river. I reluctantly agreed, and we began planning for the following week.
Dad told me that my step-mothers coworkers had already covered the cost of canoes and
kayaks. They were even bringing sandwiches and beer for us to enjoy. Although I had some
reservations about the trip, the fact that it was free made it somewhat appealing. Regardless, I
really didnt want to go. In my mind, an air conditioner, satellite t.v., and a couch sounded better.
This wont be so bad, I thought. Just get out there, kayak for a few hours, and you can get back
to your routine. I kept reassuring myself, despite the fact that I really didnt want to leave the
house at all.
Sensing that I needed some motivation for the trip, Dad went out and rented the movie
Into the Wild a couple of days before we left for the river. I didnt know much about the movie,
other than the fact that it was directed by Sean Penn, who my dad was absolutely obsessed with.
I assumed the plot had something to do with the wilderness. I went fishing a few times with my
family, but I was never big on the outdoors. I wasnt interested in the movie, despite my fathers
endorsement. He raved about the film for weeks. It was about nature, which he loved, and it even

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included a soundtrack that was composed by one of his favorite musicians, Eddie Vedder of
Pearl Jam.
Picked up some movies, boy. Ive got one you need to watch. He said.
What is it? I asked.
Its that Into the Wild movie. I figured you could use some inspiration. This movies
gonna prepare you for our river expedition
Ahhhhh I groaned Im not watching that hippie crap. I already know how it ends. The
guy dies because hes stupid and didnt pack enough food.
Just watch the damn movie, Zeppelin. Youll like it, just like youre gonna like this trip
we are going on.
I sat down that evening with my dad, and began watching Into the Wild. I already told
dad that I was against the movie, so I had to keep up my charade, no matter how good the movie
actually was. I complained about every aspect of the film, attempting to mask the fact that it was
growing on me. Needless to say, dads plan worked. I could definitely identify with the movies
protagonist, Chris McCandless. Like me, Chris was a jaded college student, completely fed up
with exam dates, professors, and term papers. After graduating, he decided that he was done with
modern society and human relationships. He left his family and friends to embark on a nature
hike across America, and find himself. I wasnt sure if I would ever graduate from college, but I
could relate to the idea of being sick of academic pursuits. Maybe nature, not a big-screen T.V.,
was my key to a stress-free Summer. It worked for Chris, maybe it could work for me. Into the
Wild made nature seem super appealing, minus the whole dying alone in the wilderness part. I
didnt want to admit it, but I was beginning to question my whole Summer agenda because of
dads stupid film.

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By the next morning, I was more than ready to leave the confines of my dads apartment,
and get to the river. Fortunately, we left early enough to ensure that we could complete our trip
before the day grew too hot. We traveled about thirty miles from Springdale to reach the kayak
park in Siloam Springs. Although the sun was still peeking over the horizon when we arrived, the
campground was bustling with energy. People scrambled around, frantically organizing icechests and preparing their canoes. My dad and stepmother circled the camp twice, before finding
our group.
I knew our two hosts from Melissa's work. Sheila, the mastermind behind the trip, often
worked the night shift at Red Lobster with my stepmother. Her husband, Charles, was also there.
I didnt know much about our group, other than the fact that it was lead by two prototypical
extroverts. Both Sheila and Charles could talk to a person until they were insane. This skill set
probably came in handy when hosting a kayak trip. Regardless, I wasnt looking forward to a
ten-mile paddling session riddled with constant small-talk. I wanted to focus on paddling down
the river, and catching some rapids.
We exchanged greetings, and walked over to the canoe rack, where everyone selected
their means of transportation. Our group had about twelve people, so we had to strategically
distribute the canoes and kayaks. Because I was the youngest member of the group, I got to pick
my watercraft last. After everyone made their selection, I was left with a red, single-person
kayak. My dad apologized, assuming that I wanted to ride with someone. I feigned
disappointment, and secretly rejoiced in the fact that I could control my own craft. If all else
failed, I could, at least, get away from Sheilas endless chatter.
I helped Charles and my dad load the ice chests into the larger canoes before settling into
my kayak. At first glance, it looked like we had enough beer and pre-made sandwiches to feed

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the entire campground. After watching Into the Wild, this brought some reassurance. At least I
wont starve to death, I thought. Sure, Sheila and her husband could talk me to death, but at least
I wouldnt starve like the main character from that movie.
The first hour of the trip was great. I relaxed, and gently floated beside my dad and
Melissa. I barely knew any of the other members in our group, so I stayed close to my dads
canoe and avoided conversation. My reclusive behavior served me well, until Sheila and Charles
requested that we stop on a nearby gravel bar for lunch. We had all been paddling for the better
part of an hour, so a light meal sounded great. I quickly finished my sandwich, though, and
waited until we continued the trip. As expected, Sheila was already making her rounds, chatting
with every member of the group. During our fifteen-minute break, both her and Charles
consumed about three beers each. Once they were buzzed, the couples extroverted ways became
even more obnoxious. We eventually got back into the water after Sheila decided to give a
drunken description of her family, her love life, her pets, and the garden she was planning that
Summer.
Sheila and Charles soon made this a habit, demanding that we stop at every gravel bar we
encountered. The entire river was lined with these rocky islands, so we ended up stopping
frequently. At first, this wasnt so bad. I was getting free beer, and a chance to relax and eat some
good food. But, after the fourth stop, I grew restless. I was bored, and I didnt see the need for a
break after paddling for meger, five-minute sessions. I needed to escape, and spread my wings
like Chris McCandless. Unfortunately, My attempts to re enact Into the Wild were being
sabotaged by annoyingly frequent beer breaks. Dont get me wrong, I like beer, but I was ready
to attack white water. I wasnt sure how my dad felt, but I knew these stops had to be working
his nerves. My dad was just happy to be there, and he was far too polite to complain.

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During one of our stops, I quietly walked over to my dad and expressed my frustrations.
Dad, Im not trying to be a whiner, but... I began.
Whats wrong, son? He asked.
Well, to be honest, Sheilas kind of getting on my nerves. I dont understand why we
have to stop and hear her drunken rants every thirty seconds.
You dont have to stay around here, boy. Youre a grown man. Youve got your own
canoe. Feel free to go on ahead. Have fun. Thats why were here.
I dont want to be rude...
Trust me, son, they wont even notice. Im sure Sheila and Charles have had enough
Budlight to tolerate your absence.
Thanks, dad.
I quickly jumped into my kayak before the group finished eating. I wanted to leave before
the rest of the group noticed. I darted away from the gravel bar, leaving everyone else behind. I
felt guilty at first, but those feelings were soon replaced by relief. I was finally alone, free from
Sheilas talking, and free to enjoy the wilderness at my own pace. I began attacking the rapids,
picking up speed at every opportunity. Scenes from Into the Wild flashed through my head as I
attempted to emulate Chris McCandless journey of self discovery. Although my journey was
much smaller in comparison, I was beginning to see why the guy found so much relief in nature.
While my kayak sliced through the river, I forgot about academia completely. For a moment, my
subpar performance at the University of Arkansas-Monticello left my memory. I could only focus
on the river, on the present, as I steered my craft over the rapids. I could now move on at my own
pace, and I no longer had to park my kayak every ten-minutes. In fact, I stopped only when I
stumbled upon a location that was too beautiful to bypass. The whole experience was euphoric.

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I traveled at a fast pace, my kayak surrounded by lush, green forests and an abundance of
wildlife. Clear water ran under me, and I observed various fish as they followed me down the
river. Once I had my fill of paddling, I would abandon my canoe and start swimming.
The water was cold, but refreshing. I was tired, sunburnt, and enjoying every minute of it.
I was having my own Chris McCandless moment, despite the fact that I wasnt completely alone.
The river was populated, but I no longer had to participate in any trivial small talk. People left
me alone, and I happily observed some of the other groups on the river from a distance. On
nearby gravel bars, I could see families fishing and picnicking. I noticed massive church groups
cut through the water as they eagerly paddled down the river. From the corner of my eye, I even
observed a few kids attempting to launch bottle rockets at each other. The Fourth of July holiday
attracted all sorts of people. I was amazed that the occasion had drawn so many people to nature.
I continued for two more hours, before I noticed a bridge surrounded by several canoe
racks. My group was far behind, and I had no clue where we were supposed to stop. Beyond the
bride, white water flowed with intensity into an unpopulated channel. I decided that I would steer
my canoe near the bridge and wait for the rest of the group. After all, they had to pass my
location; the river flowed in one direction. I waited for about an hour with no sign of my dad,
Sheila, or the group. I grew concerned, and the sun gradually started to fall. We were supposed to
be finished by 3:00 p.m., so I knew that we were behind schedule. Maybe the group passed me
while I was preoccupied with my romanticized visions. I feared the worst. I had no cell-phone,
and no way to contact anyone. By sundown, almost everyone around the bridge left. I would
definitely be able to relive the Into the Wild experience now. I would be sleeping outside, with
nothing but a dirty kayak to keep me warm.

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When I started to give up hope and hike back up to the campground, I heard faint voices
coming around the final river bend. I immediately recognized Sheila's beer-induced accent. At
that moment, I was actually relieved to hear her voice. They finally made it to the end. The group
pulled their canoes ashore, and began talking about the trip. Everyone was in good spirits, clearly
feeling the effects of Sheila's frequent beer breaks.
I looked over the crowd before noticing my father. He looked tired and ready to go. I
didnt want to jump to any conclusions, but I was confident that my dad had also reached his
breaking point with Sheila. After a while, I walked over to the rest of the group, and Dad asked
me to help him unload their canoe.
Whered you go, boy? My dad asked.
I should ask you the same thing. I responded.
Well, I was on the river. With the group. In my canoe. You knew wed be awhile, with
all of Sheila's damn talking and stopping the group. How long have you been here?
About an hour.
Damn, boy. I didnt think youd rip through the river that fast. You should have moved a
little slower. What the hell happened?
You know, just trying to relive that Into the Wild
Dad laughed.
What?
Boy, youre a mess. I wish I had never suggested that damn movie.