Portrait of Ryland Harris standing in a river with her kayak and paddle.

A Life Shaped ByThe River

By Cam Adams



The sound of rushing water fills the ears of Ryland Harrison M.S. ’26 as she kayaks the Nantahala River. The Ä¢¹½¶ÌÊÓÆµ alumna knows this river intimately.

She has every rock mapped out in her mind to dodge, and every wave train is ingrained in her memory. Just as the mountains and groundwater determined this river’s bends and curves over millions of years, the river, itself, has shaped her.

Harrison was born to kayak. She’s the daughter of an outdoorsman, practically living on the river with her dad as a child. She’s a scholar, conducting detailed research on the intricacies of the culture and social dynamics around kayaking.

She’s also an instructor in the sport, giving others the courage she needed when she struggled with the fear that kayaking sometimes spurs.

For Harrison, that fear turned into joy, and it led to a life that’s dedicated to the rivers that have guided her all of her days.

“I found a way for my greatest, most beloved hobby to be my whole life’s existence and motivation for living,� Harrison said. “I have a very deep, meaningful connection with nature, and I just love being able to get to know the character of a river, like a river is an extension of me and something beyond me.�



Overcoming
The Waves

The river called Harrison to it from a young age, but she really didn’t have much of a choice to follow it or not. Her dad Jim was an outdoors fanatic. Jim would take Harrison and her brother to the river near their hometown of Damascus, Virginia, quite often.

If their mom wasn’t around, Jim’s go-to spot would be to take them to a stream pool.

Harrison spent countless hours out on that river with her brother, and off a few meters away, Jim was practicing his kayak rolls, a lifesaving skill in the sport of kayaking.

Sometimes when going down rapid currents, boaters can unexpectedly flip over and be submerged underwater. Boaters have two options: maneuver yourself back up above the water, executing a roll, or pull your kayak skirt, the waterproof barrier that seals the cockpit of the boat, and swim.

Ryland Harrison

Harrison was deathly afraid of the former.

“It took me years, honestly, from when I was like 10 to when I was 17, just kind of fighting with the sport,� Harrison said. “Once I started getting into kayaking, it was still quite a curve to get over the fear I initially held for finding underwater comfort. (It) was really challenging for me.�

She took advantage of all the opportunities, Damascus, a small Appalachian town, offered, often climbing and hiking.

Despite her concerns about kayaking, she still felt a calling to the river.

A couple of things kept drawing her back. One was seeing the bond her dad and brother had when they kayaked. She wanted that. The other was community.

“It’s a whole other different level of trust because they’re seeing you in a really vulnerable state, the people you’re paddling with,� Harrison said.

Soon, she quickly started having breakthroughs.

Ryland Harrison

“When she got into that community, she just really blew up and started progressing and moving towards that next breakthrough,� Jim said. “She would just kind of set her jaw. Though she wasn’t having a great time, she wouldn’t give up on it.

“She would always kind of come back to it, and I never forced her.� Overcoming that fear, turning one of her greatest fears into her greatest joy, rippled into other areas of her life.

It framed every challenge she faced. The discomfort Harrison experiences in everyday life is no match for the uneasiness she felt on the river.

It showed her that sometimes, she just has to let go.

“I think that being able to surrender to things, feeling out of control of the current, (dealing with) the power of a river that’s been carving into this mountainside for millions of years, this is not something I’m going to win over,� Harrison said. “I think my ability to be forced to surrender and work alongside things I cannot control, rather than trying to be in control, has had transformative effects on myself.�

Instructing
Others to Joy

When Harrison entered her undergraduate education at Emory and Henry University in Virginia, she had plans to spend her career in the courtroom. She was on a pre-law track but still wanted to be involved with the outdoors in administrative environmental policy.

Then, she met Juliet Jacobsen Kastorff, who changed her life.

“It was my first time ever interacting with and seeing a female kayaking instructor, and I remember just being like, ‘This is an option?’� Harrison said. “She was just so sweet and amazing, and I was just so enamored with her. I was like, ‘I want her to be my mentor. I want to be like that.’�

Ryland Harrison

Kastorff, co-founder and head kayak instructor at Endless River Adventures, a trip outfitter based in Bryson City, led a Ecuador trip during Harrison’s spring break sophomore year at Emory and Henry.

After meeting Kastorff, Harrison felt inspired.

She wanted to be a kayaking instructor.

“I think what that trip did for Ryland was it just reignited her passion for being on the river,� Kastorff said. “Seeing her colleagues, how much they grew in that time, I think that also inspired her to really pursue outdoor education, outdoor leadership and the kind of long-term benefits that it would bring her to be involved in as a leader.�

Soon after that, Harrison took her first instructing job at Camp Green Cove for Girls in Hendersonville. She loved teaching other girls how to paddle and wanted to work for her mentor.

“She came to me, and she was just really inspired to teach kayaking,� Kastorff said. “It was heartbreaking. I actually didn’t have a place for her initially, but it was really important for me to see her start pursuing this.�

After a few years of instruction school and honing her craft, Harrison eventually went to work for Kastorff.

“I kind of guided her to where I really wanted to see her go and who I really wanted her to find as a mentor, and then two winters ago, she reached out to me again and was like, ‘Can we talk again?’ And I was like, ‘I would be silly to send you away twice,’� Kastorff said.

Since then, Harrison has helped dozens of others overcome their kayaking fears, including some more experienced than her.

Elizabeth Kyle M.A. Ed. ’10, one of Harrison’s students who had been kayaking as a hobby for about 10 years, was scared of taking on high-level rapids.

“I was just having fear,� Kyle said. “I was just doing it, pushing through. It wasn’t always fun. I was sometimes crying in the eddy. This is all before I met Ryland.�

But Harrison has a gift.

“She just brings joy,� Kyle said. “She brings the good energy, the positivity. She has this ability to help you process whatever this feeling is.�

For Kyle, it just took a little tune to ease her worries.

Harrison told Kyle that the loud noise of the water can cause kayakers to be more nervous. Harrison’s solution for Kyle? Sing a song. She chose “If I Could,� a Carpenter Ants cover of a song by John Prine.

For a decade, plenty of folks have been trying to help Kyle with her fears of kayaking the Class 3-and-over rapids in the Nantahala River. Finally, thanks to Harrison, Kyle has found her place on the water.

“Here’s this person, she’s going to love you if you swim or not. She’s going to love you if you stay in your boat. She’s going to love you if she has to rescue you,� Kyle said. “Just feeling that unconditional love and support is another piece of what she brings.�

Harrison feels she’s found her place, too.

“Instruction has been the biggest avenue of achieving humility and accountability as a person,� Harrison said. “It’s been really good for me in becoming a better, more understanding person and listener.�

Two years into undergrad at Emory and Henry, Harrison realized something: she wasn’t done studying.

Car with kayak on top
Ryland Harrison

A Scholar
of the Current

“I feel like I’m just now getting stoked about learning, and I realized that I could prevent burnout if I could just talk about whitewater kayaking in all of my classes,� she said. “I was starting to think critically about paddling and culture, and I was like ‘I just feel like I touched the surface. I want to get more into it.’�

Eventually, Harrison found the Experiential and Outdoor Education master’s program at Ä¢¹½¶ÌÊÓÆµ, and her time in Cullowhee sparked her passion for research.

Her master's thesis, titled "To Swim or Not to Swim: Evaluating the Culture of Self-Rescue in the Southeastern Whitewater Kayaking Community," explores attitudes toward self-rescue and how paddlers experience and discuss wet exits within the kayaking community.

In kayaking, a wet exit is an essential safety technique that allows a paddler to exit their craft by removing their spray skirt. While it is often viewed as a last resort when other options have been exhausted, even highly experienced paddlers may need to use the technique.

Harrison's research found that wet exits can carry a social stigma within some paddling circles, influencing how paddlers talk about mistakes, risk and performance on the water.

Ryland Harrison in car

Through her research, Harrison sought to better understand the culture surrounding self-rescue and encourage conversations about how kayaking communities can foster support, learning and safety for paddlers of all experience levels.

"She really didn't feel like that was a supportive practice for the community," said Callie Schultz, an associate professor in the EOE program.

"It was something she observed in the community, and we discussed it early on in our class as we explored how group norms and social dynamics shape experiences. She was applying those ideas to a community she knows well."

After further discussion, Schultz encouraged Harrison to pursue the topic for her master's thesis.

"I think the beauty of it is that she's able to communicate her work to the kayaking community," Schultz said. "She's not using heavy academic language that limits the conversation to academics.

"She's able to have those conversations directly with the people she hopes to reach and make a difference for, which is her kayaking community."

Harrison said she couldn’t have done it without the resources she was given at Ä¢¹½¶ÌÊÓÆµ, from its “amazing professorsâ€� to its “thoughtfully designed program.â€�

“There’s nothing else in the world like this program, and I don’t think I could have excelled to the extent I have without it,� she said. “It is so collaborative. These professors want you to succeed.

The River
is Home

“They would not send you anywhere where you would be embarrassed or you would get shut down. They work very intentionally with their students to ensure they succeed. They go above and beyond.�

Harrison graduated with her master’s in May, with a desire to do more research down the road — something she never would’ve guessed coming from the rural hills of Damascus.

“I’m from southwest Virginia. I feel like such a honky. I feel like kind of a riverbone dirtbag. I’ve never considered myself to be a good writer or someone who could think critically about social theory,� Harrison said.

Ryland Comic


In addition to teaching kayaking and sharing her love of the outdoors, Ä¢¹½¶ÌÊÓÆµ alumna Ryland Harrison enjoys creating comics in her spare time. What started as a creative hobby has become another outlet for storytelling, allowing her to bring characters and ideas to life on the page. Whether she's on the river or working on a new comic, Harrison's creativity and sense of adventure shine through in everything she does.


“I never considered myself someone capable of achieving research to this level, especially at a master’s level, and I think I’ve just really surprised myself.� For Harrison’s whole life, all rivers have led to kayaking.

They’ve been torrential, characterized by fear. They’ve been joyful, flowing out of the wealth of love she has for her students. They’ve been inspiring, keeping the Ä¢¹½¶ÌÊÓÆµ alumna curious about the sport that’s defined her existence.

“It’s everything. I think about it. I dream about it. I do it for work, I do it for joy. I think it’s pretty safe to say I’m pretty obsessed with it because I just know the transformative possibilities that folks are capable of achieving through this sport,� Harrison said.

“I think it’s a shame that there’s some nasty aspects to the culture, because I think the more people we can get doing it, the better, because it’s so darn sweet. It’s such a good way to live.�

As the river ahead of her also leads to kayaking and instruction, Harrison is comfortable. The rapids she was so afraid of years ago are now a place to breathe, a place to teach and a place to live.

Simply put, the river is her home.

“It’s my life. It’s pretty ridiculous to call it a hobby at this point right now,� Harrison said. “I feel like I have a master’s in it now. I’m also just very privileged and lucky to live a life where I get to choose the risk I put myself in.�

Ryland Harris