WOW! Women On Water Trips

Why WOW! Exists

It may come as no surprise that I was a childhood tomboy — growing up outside of Grand Rapids in the tiny hamlet of Marne, Michigan, exploring the woods with the neighborhood boys, mostly because the boys were the only neighbors my age. Jumping creeks, climbing trees, speed races on my banana-seat bike. Bowl-cut hair because my mom was never into dealing with it. Prior to puberty I genuinely looked like one of the boys, and I doubt any of us gave much thought to the fact that a girl was out there doing all of it. It was the '70s. You just went outside and came home for dinner.

When I was nine, we moved to the suburbs of Grand Rapids. No woods. No neighborhood kids. My sister was three and a half years older and had officially entered her teenage years, which meant I had become a pest. I had one maple tree in the backyard, a posse of stuffed animals, and books. Adventures now lived in my head — with the Hardy Boys, and Nancy Drew, who always had it so easy. At least Katniss knew how to handle herself in the woods.

And then puberty arrived and did what puberty does. My courage shrank at roughly the same rate my breasts grew. I still loved the outdoors — but braces, greasy hair, heavy periods, and larger-than-average breasts created a girl who spent summers sweating under large jackets rather than jumping into creeks. One friend, Lily, still dragged me to Camp Henry's Frontier Camp through middle school — and those weeks were a blissful return to my earlier self. Except, of course, I had my period every single time. With a pit toilet and no way to wash your hands as the cherry on top.

Body shaming from boys in middle school didn't help. I was embarrassed by how I looked. Afraid to try things that felt outside the box. I carried that with me longer than I'd like to admit — and I know I'm not the only one. Many of us women carry that psychological baggage into adulthood. Then we add the mantle of spouse or mother and place our own adventures on the furthest back burner, sometimes for twenty years or more. Sometimes forever.

Then in high school, a senior told me about Outward Bound over mediocre Chinese food and a coupon from the Entertainment Book. I filed it away. Years later, after a transfer and a rough breakup and the particular clarity that comes from both, I stopped filing and actually went. I took a semester off from Aquinas College and did a Colorado Outward Bound Wilderness Leadership semester — three months in the backcountry that changed who I was at a cellular level. The full story deserves its own telling. It has one.

What I took from that experience — and from having become a guide since — is that outdoor spaces have historically been designed around men. Taught by men. The equipment is sized for men. The techniques assume a male center of gravity. The social dynamics assume a male comfort level with struggle and failure. And most women have spent their entire outdoor lives quietly adapting, accommodating, wondering if the difficulty they're experiencing is normal or if something is wrong with them.

Nothing is wrong with them. The wetsuit just wasn't designed for their body. The PFD fit needs adjusting. The question they're afraid to ask in front of their husband, brother, or male friend is actually one everyone in the group has. And yes — peeing in the woods in a wetsuit is a whole thing, and I'll show you what to do.

This is where WOW came from.

My friend, co-worker, and fellow guide Mary and I created Women on Water — four days on Lake Huron designed around what actually happens when a small group of women gets outside together without having to accommodate or perform or explain. Skills get learned. Real ones. Confidence gets built. Conversations go to places they don't go anywhere else. Someone admits they're nervous and instead of reassurance they get me too. Someone laughs so hard on day two that they might pee their wetsuit. Someone paddles farther than they thought they could and comes back quieter in the best way.

I built WOW because I spent too many years wishing something like it existed. Because the outdoor world gave me everything and I want to hand some of that to other women — without the pit toilet, without the boys, without the large jacket in summer.

Come and find out what you're capable of. The water will meet you exactly where you are.

[Learn more about WOW! and book your spot →]