Elisabeth Easther talks to Outward Bound's Lou Henderson
I grew up on a farm in Taranaki and for holidays we'd go to Lake Tarawera. We're a boating family, so there was always lots of skiing, surfing and hot pools. A typical day would see us wake before dawn to gowaterskiing, then we'd cook a big breakfast and go for a paddle on the Kaituna River before heading home through the Redwoods for mountain biking.
When I was 12, I saw Outward Bound advertised on the back of a cereal box, so I made a PowerPoint presentation to try to convince one of my parents to take me, because I was too young to go by myself. I managed to convince dad and, after he did the course with me, he realised it was something he wanted to do with all his daughters. To this day, dad still wells up when he talks about Outward Bound, and it's a really cool thing me and my three sisters all share with him.
When I was 18 I booked myself a ticket to Vancouver. I flew in without much money, or much geographical awareness. In Customs, I met a guy from Te Awamutu who was off to be a dogsled guide in the Canadian Rockies. I thought that sounded awesome and I ended up doing a season in Canmore, 15 minutes drive from Banff. That was my first proper job, and somehow everything just fell into place. I fell in love with Canmore so I stayed for the summer to work as a raft guide. I didn't have much money, and ended up staying in a trailer park with three other Kiwi girls. For the first few weeks,
we couldn't even afford mattresses so each night we'd lay out our clothes and sleep on them
. Eventually our first paychecks came, and we bought airbeds.
Outward Bound instructor Lou Henderson meeting a local while hiking in Nepal. Photo / Supplied
The guy who managed the rafting company in Canada organised a 60-day journey down 10 rivers in Nepal. A lot of the rivers were to be dammed and this was a last hurrah. There were about 16 of us, we bought food from the villagers and slept on the riverbanks, under the raft. Sometimes the locals would come down and watch us sleep. We had two Nepalese with us who'd negotiate with the villagers for food. Some days we'd run around a village chasing chickens. One night we played volleyball with some locals, and ended up with a pig. The remote places we went to were pristine, while other places, closer to villages, was where we sometimes saw burning bodies float past as we kayaked. Life on that trip was easy and simple and the people were beautiful, but it was also intense, and 60 days was enough.
I'm still learning about packing. Coming home from Canada one time, I had a whitewater kayak, a set of skis and a tramping bag.
Eventually reality slapped me in the face and I returned to New Zealand to finish my outdoor-education degree. After that I worked for Pacific Discovery, an organisation that provides service-based experiential education in New Zealand, Australia, Fiji, Nepal and Tibet. The groups were predominantly American college age students on their gap year. Most were from higher socio-economic backgrounds.
One student grew up on the same street as the Kardashians
so I was working with two extreme demographics, and trying to find some middle ground. A lot of them were there because it looked good on a college application or when applying for a job. Some really bought into the programme and some just wanted to experiment with alcohol and drugs. Although our policy was really strict about that sort of thing, we'd be on treks, walking past fields of hemp, and on the streets of Kathmandu and Pokhara, every second person wants to sell you drugs.
When I was in my early 20s, I think travel was my way of taking risks. Some people find that in drugs and alcohol, but I found it in travel. My first time in Kathmandu, I was walking down the wrong street. It was getting late and my friend had gone back to the hotel. I ended up off the beaten when this local guy on a motorbike said, "you're coming with me". I said "no" and hurried off. He starts pulling my hair to get me on to his motorbike, when three other guys come over and start having this full-on fight. Then the three Nepali guys sat me down and bought me street food. I felt I could trust them and eventually they helped steer me back to where I was staying. I look back now and think I was so naïve to be wandering off in Kathmandu. Yet I also think it's during those sorts of moments that you learn your travel smartness.
Lou Henderson is an instructor with Outward Bound outwardbound.co.nz
