Stop gifting stuff and start gifting life
I tend to go on about this every year around this time. The obvious response is, “Well, you own a guiding business, so of course you want people to buy experiences.” And yes, that’s obviously part of my internal incentive system — of course I want people to give my business their money.
Photo: Upper Uncompahgre Canyon
But that’s honestly not the only reason why I bring this up.
Even though I would love it if you purchased yourself or someone else a canyoning trip this holiday season, what I really want is for people to consider gifting any experience. A movie ticket, a day at a theme park, bowling — whatever. Do I think experiences outside in the natural world are even more potent? Absolutely. But that might be a whole other post. The reality is that things are just things. They break, they get old, and the peak moment of satisfaction usually happens right when you first get them.
One thing I was recently talking about with my friend Logan (owner of Basecamp Ouray, who also offers amazing experiences) is how fast time passes when you’re just living your routine. A week can go by and feel like nothing happened. But when you do new things — when you experience something — time slows down a bit. Life feels fuller.
Experiences don’t really have a “peak.” We get joy from anticipating them — who hasn’t made it through a rough week by thinking about an upcoming vacation? We get joy during the experience: sharing it with friends or family, being somewhere new and exciting, feeling adrenaline, or simply doing something outside our normal patterns. And one of the most amazing things about an experience is the joy it brings after the fact. Some of my experiences bring me more joy now, years later, than they did when they were happening.
When my partner Emily had her parents and sister out to Ouray several years ago, they had no idea what canyoning even was. But I was determined to give them a small taste. So we took them down Portland Creek. The trip lasted a few hours — and yet over the years at family gatherings I’ve heard countless conversations about the way her mom messed up a rappel, how scared certain people were at certain moments, and how funny everyone looked on their first rappel ever. Maybe I’m biased, but I don’t remember anyone having those same repeated joyous conversations about material gifts they’ve received.
When I was living and guiding in New Zealand, I had a lot of incredible canyoning opportunities. One that sticks with me is an attempted first descent of the upper Bedford Canyon with my good friends Andrew and Gus. I could write an entire post about it, but in short: we suffered. We ran out of food, bushwhacked endlessly, got cold, and slept with our wetsuits as sleeping pads for a few nights. And after all of that, we only descended a tiny part of the intended canyon — barely a fraction of what we hoped to do. But that experience brings me deep joy every time I think about it. Gus passed away in 2024, which makes that shared suffering — and the fun we had despite it — even more valuable in my life.
Photo: Andrew and Gus as we bail out of Bedford Canyon.
I’ve had the privilege of guiding thousands of clients down canyons. I could share the stories of people saying “this is the greatest day of my life,” but the ones that really stick with me are the long-term ones. The people who come back years later and say, “That experience helped me connect with my son,” or “We still talk about that trip at every family get-together,” or the one I heard recently: “Sometimes my daughter calls me from college just to talk about that trip we did together.”
I thought about filling this post with scientific articles backing all this up — and they exist, lots of them. But honestly, I think we’re all bombarded with studies, and facts.
I think the reality is kind of obvious. (Again, maybe I’m biased.)
So if you have someone you care about — someone you want to deepen your relationship with, make memories with, or just bring some joy to — spend your money on experiences.
I promise you won’t regret it.