It was finally that time of the year. Fall with its bold, ever changing colors, had come and gone, making way to a winter promising streets paved in glistening, fluffy snow. Pale blues and pearly greys filled the clear sky, once luscious trees lay barren and the air was cold and crisp. Several rain showers had caused paths to be icy and slippery. Newly covered mountains gave a hope of thrilling winter sports to the adventurous. Well, except for me of course.


My name is John Parker. I am 23 years old. I have shaggy mocha colored hair, bright turquoise eyes that hide behind my thick eyelashes, light skin, and well kept beard that I seem to shave every other week. My bulky grey glasses always seem to fall down my too-small nose. Besides my awkward personality and short stature there is two significant things that separate me from my friends, I am not athletically gifted and I am definitely not what you would call adventurous. Portland is full of the extremely athletic always looking for new feats to complete while I can’t even ride a bicycle correctly. Although this is unfortunate, I found myself in photography. My licorice black cannon camera and its various expensive lenses never leave my side. It’s true I did love the art of photograph, but I was not fully sure of that until that fateful October in the year 2008.


I remember it like it was yesterday. The wind beat across my face, leaving my chubby cheeks a rosy red. I ran quickly into the dinner where I was met with its comfortable warmth and the soothing smell of hot chocolate. The outdated wallpaper and tiles deemed light on the fact that the dinner was opened in the 1970s and was long over due for a renovation. My long time best friend, Daniel Noble, would often meet me here to discuss his newest idea for a life-threatening feat he desired to complete. As I went to sit at our usual booth, right next to the delicious desserts, I saw that he was already waiting for me. His ginger hair recently shaved into a clean-cut buzz cut, weathered skin, deep emerald eyes, bony cheeks, freckles so perfect they seemed to be painted on, and mischievous smile all paired nicely with his keen sense of adventure. The only flaw I have ever seen in this man is his lack of tenderness. He looked at me with a gleam in his eyes, “Well I know what we are going to do this weekend!” he announced, practically oozing with excitement.


“Is it dangerous?” I questioned timidly.


“Why of course!” he responded shocked with my question. He then turned his black dell laptop to me showing a blog post by a local whitewater kayaker Daniel had met. The post read:

Outlet Falls, a waterfall in Yakima, Washington with a sixty-nine foot plunge has given kayakers a huge opportunity. This waterfall is not known for extreme sports because its little amount of water simply is not enough to Kayak down. Well, I have just been informed that unusually warm pacific weather melted ice high in the Rocky Mountains and has provided the perfect conditions for a descent down these dangerous falls. This is the first time in ten years the falls has crashed into life at this extreme extent. Though dangerous, this could prove to be quite an adventure for an expert kayaker.


After reading this article my hand trembled as I yelled, challenging him, “You’re not going to try this! Are you? ” Daniel has been Kayaking since he was 5 and has always been extremely gifted at it. I became increasingly worried the more I thought about this dangerous stunt.

“I sure am! And you’re going to come with me! I need your skills to take a one of a kind picture when I do this. Come on John, it will be a once in a life time experience!” He squealed full of a child-like glow.


I don’t know how he convinced me to tag along. All I remember is wincing at him then next think I know I am opening my eyes in his silver, beat-up truck with my camera on my lap and his tangerine kayak and lime green oars strapped to the roof. He looked over at me with that mischievous smirk slapped across his face. I rolled my eyes and stared out the window. I should have known, that fiend, He must have been planning this endeavor of his for weeks and just expected me to tag along. Oh I was just so frustrated. I fought with the thought of simply putting the whole endeavor to an end when I heard,


“Pit stop! I almost forgot. I have to get a new tripod for you. Yeah, sorry about the last one, but, seriously, how was I supposed to know that I could bring it whitewater rafting with me?”


I rolled my eyes once again, a usual activity when I am with Daniel. Although his personality is scattered with rays of brilliance, he can be such an airhead.


When we had finally left the car, I ran to the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, and looked sternly into the mirror. I pondered to myself, “Should I just leave while I am ahead? Why did I even decide to come in the first place?” I began to panic and worry for my friend’s safety when I looked back on my friendship with Daniel. With every stunt Daniel tried to pull off, he always walked away without a scratch and I was always the first he called. I suddenly felt a wave of reassurance pass over me as I sat back down in the truck’s passenger seat. The next two hours seemed to go by in a flash.

I was more than thrilled to leave Daniel’s truck. There is only so long that a man can handle the smell of axe body spray and cheese puffs without feeling nauseous. I felt a tap on my shoulder that sent a jolt up my spine. I turned around and saw Daniel grinning from ear to ear as he began to state, “Ok, I’m going to check the area around the waterfall so I can make sure its safe.” He walked towards the falls and leaped in the pool directly under it vanishing in its brown waters almost instantly. I took a step toward the waterfall and I thought I was going to have a heart attack.

The waterfall was even more terrifying that I could have ever imagined. Snow covered Rocky Mountains and everything in site seemed to be frozen solid, but, strangely, the falls was full of life. Its muddy water crashed down into the murky pond below leaving a thin layer of ice above the water. Dead trees crept out of the brown mountainside where frost had begun to cause a cool grey color to appear. As my friend entered the murky pool just below the falls, my heart began to beat rapidly.


He then left the pool and ran to me screaming, “I can make it! I know I can! There’s a 200ft start-off at the top until I make it to the falls.” He then pointed to a sunny rock located close to the top of the falls and remarked, “That looks like a great place to set up your camera and tripod while I get ready.” He then went to his car, picked up the kayak, and headed up the mountain.


My heart started to beat a mile a minute as I began to set up my equipment for what I hoped to be an amazing photo.


Thoughts began to run through my mind, “Was all this worry worth it? Do I have what it takes? Would my friend be ok?” I placed my Cannon camera with its extended lenses to the tripod and laid in wait. Then I saw my friend up on the top of the mountain. He must have been worried, but the peaceful expression on his face would tell you otherwise. He stretched his hand to the sky, screamed out a praise as if he was looked directly into the face of God, gave his kayak a great and mighty push, and he was on his way. He tore at the water as if commanding the river to obey his every demand. He moved swiftly with all the energy in the world and in that moment my friend’s smirk was replaced with an expression of sheer concentration and determination. As he crept closer and closer to the falls, I readied myself by my camera. I struggled to keep him in focus as my finger remained in position on the camera’s flash.


Then suddenly, it was time. My finger violently hit the flash with all the energy my friend had just displayed. As he bolted down the fall I heard a horrifying scream. He disappeared into the murky waters and my heart dropped. I then realized, as he popped out from beneath the ice, that the scream was not his. It was in fact, my own cry that had terrified me so.


I felt as if the whole world was lifted off my shoulders as I dropped my camera and raced to my friend, not even glancing at the picture I had just taken, cheering words of praise to him. “You did it! You really did it!” I exclaimed.


He looked at me as a worried look passed his face. “And the photo?” he asked calmly.

We both looked at each other then raced for the camera. I grabbed at it with such zeal that I surprised myself and when I looked at the photo I was even more surprised. I looked at Daniel and I could see the pride swell in his eyes at the beauty captured in my photograph.



He looked at me with a face full of compassion and love and said, “See John, I told you, you are one talented man. This photo looks like it belongs in the national geographic. I’ve always believed in you with all my heart. All you needed was to believe in yourself. And that is what this trip really was for.” He began to tear up and then his fiendish smirk returned to his face, “Well that and I couldn’t miss that opportunity. I mean, did you see that! That was awesome!” He ran away shoving his fists in the air, but I was knew him long enough to know what his words truly meant and I was grateful. He showed he was capable of sensitivity after all.


From that day on my career as a photographer boomed. I began to travel the world capturing never before done stunts and remarkable landscapes. Though this was the event that started off my career and gave me confidence in myself, that is not what I learned from it. No matter what Daniel did, he always thought of me. He might not be perfect, but he is a true friend who never gives up on what truly matters. Now when I look back at my experience at Outlet Falls I do not remember how I gained confidence or how I need to believe in myself, I leaned that with a true friend’s support and acceptance, you no longer have the need to fit in. So, be yourself and, with a friend by your side, you’ll go far.