The place that stayed with me: on a wild, misty river I learned I have the strength for almost anything

At first Stephanie Wood felt out of her depth rafting the Franklin, but by the end, a world of new possibilities had opened up

I

am old, I am unfit for this project and I am colder than hell frozen over but I am also stuck. A helicopter will not winch me out because my only injuries are the agonies of dodgy hips, screaming arm muscles and deeply wounded pride.

And there are miles and days to go before I sleep again on a mattress with clean sheets and a pillow and luxuriate in a hot shower and can be propelled forward in ways that do not require the use of my arms.

But I am stubborn too. And I have wanted to be here on the Franklin River for so long. In 1982, in the midst of the angry campaign to stop the damming of the Tasmanian river, my father took me to see Bob Brown talk. He screened a film about the river and I was captivated.