A couple of decades ago, nervous as hell, I decided to go alone on a biking and river rafting trip in Utah. I hadn't managed to talk any friends into vacationing with me but I really, really wanted to try river rafting. I chose a mountain biking and rafting trip through Holiday River Expeditions.
I researched the company through the Better Business Bureau. I called the tour operator and asked them who was going on my trip. And I called them again, and again, so see who else had signed up. I asked them what they thought about the fact that I was going alone. (They told me it was pretty common.) I made sure to choose a hotel for the night before that had a lobby, not those individual doors that face the parking lot. Bad guys wait for single women to arrive so they can break those down, don't they?
Have I mentioned I was nervous?
The morning before joining the group, I sat alone at breakfast, wondering what I'd gotten myself into. Little did I know that I was on the verge of a vacation romance with the guy sitting alone at the next table.
A week later, I chalked that trip up to one of the best vacations so far. I laughed and ate and hiked with an incredibly fun group of people. Five of us bonded like we'd known one another since kindergarten. We did everything together, including always nabbing one of the rafts just for us.
One new-found friend put his hand on my butt and pushed, to get me over a tough rock wall. Hey, five days of living together on the river removes a lot of inhibitions. Another friend sang "I Smell Teen Spirit" as we got riper in the hot sun. One night we slept under the stars, our sleeping bags all lined up in a row.
I cried when we parted. Well, well. Traveling alone was pretty fantastic.
Photos: Ellen Perlman
1. Raft flotilla in Canyonlands National Park, Utah.
2. Setting up camp by the side of the river.
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