In today’s life, we struggle to balance Leisure and Work. We have sought to make our jobs more comfortable or adventurous and our vacations more active and productive. Many of us have succeeding in striking some hard-won equilibrium, but few have expounded on this topic as eloquently as our contributor, John French, does. Many of us will view his position with envy. Many will ask, “How can I do the same?” Graciously, John generously shares the view from his thrilling vantage point in the following piece. He shows us with his beautiful prose, how Leisure and Work can be ensconced within the same job while also incorporating Travel and Adventure into the mix as well. Perhaps he shows us that if we trust ourselves and hold the course our hearts set, we can truly have it all.

When I first started river guiding in 1982, the river rafting world was the domain of the “River Rat.”It was an odd collection of mountain men, hippies, bikers, drop outs and college graduates who wanted “just one more season” before getting a “real job.” But one thing held them all together-The River.

Now, it wasn’t one river that held them. It was all whitewater rivers across the country. Everyone had “their river,” whether it was the American, Tuolumne, Cal Salmon, Merced, Kern, Illinois, Smith, Scott or any other of the great whitewater rivers of America, including the king of all, the great Colorado coursing through the Grand Canyon.

And from the common thread of Rivers spread the tentacles of reasons that each guide had for their fascination with the River and the Guiding Life. Addiction to the adrenaline high while running dangerous whitewater was, of course, a common temptation.

But there was also the life, itself. Living outdoors in beautiful places, sleeping under the stars, showing people a good time and almost always having a good time yourself.

Guides were paid to play. They were professional children who at the same time held people’s lives in their hands. Somewhere behind the laughing smile would be the watchful eye.

And then there were the dues that had to pay for the privilege of guiding. Try working the 16 hour days for next-to-nothing pay, living out of a car or truck, eating left over trip food, driving cross country from river to river like Kerouac’s Dharma Bums, and having no home, lover, money, insurance or future?

Or, how about performing like pro athletes for months on end with no trainers, spas, sports medicine, agents or million dollar contracts; only a beer and some aspirin at the end of the day?

But, out of this bond of shared danger, responsibility, adrenaline, hard work and fun grew a community of profound trust.

Romances came and went on the trips, but friendships grew strong. Years of sharing danger and challenges with each other had knit this unlikely mix of rebels and misfits into one, great tribe--Warriors of the Waters, Fluvial Dancers, Adrenaline Addicts, Whitewater Junkies, River Rats.

Anywhere in the world, a River Rat can spot another disciple. Tanned, rope-muscled men or women wearing sunglasses, shorts, Tevas and t-shirts are the first giveaways.

But beyond that, it would be the smile, gestures and vitality of a size that only the outdoors could hold. It’s also the relaxed confidence that settles into the bones after many moons of answering the challenges and tests of a life on the edge.

In 1982, I met a man named Richard Bangs, who was the co-owner of Sobek Expeditions. Sobek was the only company in the world that ran rivers all over the globe and was dedicated to exploring new rivers worldwide. It was his glossy brochure of rafts descending the Bio-Bio in Chile that hooked me.

A high waterfall cascaded off the dark cliffs behind a raft poised on the brink of an impossible maze of whitewater and boulders. Exotic beauty, danger and physical challenge burst from the page.

If this was going on somewhere in the world then I wanted to be a part of it. Anyone who has ever had lunch with Richard knows the invincibility that only he can infuse you with. Anything is possible even the impossible in within grasp.

After that, I signed up for whitewater guide school with Sobek’s sister company, OARS, and went home and sold everything except my motorcycle and camping gear.

At 32, I had done most jobs at least once: salesman, carpenter, waiter, bartender, actor, bouncer, barker, and logistics consultant. I wished I had found this new career sooner, but I learned that all my former jobs would prove valuable as a river guide.

I joined a group of 20 in a 10 day river guide school that taught the overwhelming amount of basics: knots, rigging boats, whitewater reading, rowing oar boats, captaining paddle boat, cooking in a river kitchen, making and breaking camp and the general guidelines of commercial river trips.

We rattled around the California countryside with rafts and guides in a big bus. Each day we ran different sections of different rivers.

Our guides/teachers were as varied as the rivers we explored and no one seemed to have retained any legally recognized names. There was Boss, Joe Mama, Captain Kirk, Mr. Magoo, Crowbar and Liz.

I was hired out of the school to guide for OARS that summer in California. I like to think it was because of my natural affinity for the water.

When they hired me they asked, “Where should we make your ticket out to?”

“The Bio-Bio,” I replied.