Finding Peace in the Current
Navy Veteran Paddles 2,300 Miles to Healing
Writer Joseph J. Airdo // Photography Courtesy of Joe Nichols
The Mississippi River doesn’t care about your past. It doesn’t ask why you can’t sleep at night or why crowds make your pulse quicken. It simply flows, mile after endless mile, carrying whatever burden you’re willing to release into its muddy embrace.
For Navy veteran Joe Nichols, that ancient current became a lifeline — a 2,300-mile liquid trail from Minnesota to Louisiana that would transform his relationship with anxiety, community and himself.
“I always feel at my best when I’m outdoors,” says Nichols, an Anthem resident since 2007 who completed the grueling Warrior Paddle expedition this summer. “Being out in nature is like hitting a reset button for me.”
The 90-day journey down America’s great river was no casual float trip. As part of Warrior Expeditions — a nonprofit that uses long-distance outdoor challenges to help combat veterans heal from invisible wounds — Nichols joined fellow veterans in an odyssey that would test their endurance while rebuilding their sense of purpose.
Since returning from Operation Iraqi Freedom, Nichols has struggled with sleep issues and anxiety common among veterans transitioning back to civilian life. While not formally diagnosed with PTSD, he requires medication to sleep and has found crowds particularly challenging.
“I have to take medication just to sleep; otherwise, I pretty much can’t sleep at all,” he explains. “Several of the guys I did the Warrior Expeditions excursion with had been formally diagnosed with PTSD and related challenges.”
The path to the Mississippi began three years ago when Nichols discovered Warrior Expeditions through social media. Founded in 2013 by Marine veteran Sean Gobin after his own transformative hike of the Appalachian Trail, the organization offers three expeditions: the 2,200-mile Warrior Hike along the Appalachian Trail; the 3,800-mile Warrior Bike across the Great American Rail Trail; and the Warrior Paddle down the Mississippi.
“I had considered applying before, but I realized I had missed the deadline that year,” Nichols recalls. “Last year, though, I made sure to apply before the cutoff, and on Christmas Day, I found out I was selected — which was awesome.”
The selection process is rigorous. From 400 annual applicants, only 40 veterans are chosen through application review, resilience surveys and interviews. Nichols chose the paddle expedition specifically because it offered something entirely new.
“While the Appalachian Trail really interests me, and I definitely hope to do it someday, I’ve already done a lot of hiking over the years,” he says. “Paddle sports, on the other hand, were something I’d never really tried before, so I thought it would be amazing to experience something entirely new.”
The Mississippi River expedition crosses 10 states, requiring participants to navigate everything from tranquil stretches to challenging rapids. For Nichols, one moment midway through the journey crystallized both the risks and rewards of the adventure.
“We ended up capsizing our boats when we went through what’s called a wing dam,” he recounts. “The canoes we were using weren’t made for rapids; they’re designed for smooth paddling.”
As the three veterans approached the narrow opening where water rushed and dropped quickly, disaster struck. While one paddler made it through with a waterlogged boat, Nichols and another veteran weren’t as fortunate.
“We got hit and flipped over. It looked like a shipwreck, with our gear floating everywhere,” he says. “Thankfully, we had life jackets on, so we were safe. We managed to gather up all our things, make it to shore, and set everything up at camp early that day, although everything was pretty soaked.”
What could have been a demoralizing setback became something else entirely — a moment of camaraderie and mutual support that exemplifies the Warrior Expeditions philosophy.
“The guy who didn’t end up in the water still had a boat full of water, but he helped us recover anything that was floating away,” Nichols explains. “It went from a really tense experience to one where we were all laughing about it afterward. So even the tough moments ended up being a lot of fun.”
That spirit of brotherhood runs throughout the program. Research conducted by psychologists Dr. Shauna Joye and Dr. Zachary Dietrich — both veterans themselves — consistently shows significant improvements in PTSD, anxiety and depression symptoms among participants. The program operates on three therapeutic pillars: contemplation in nature, camaraderie with fellow veterans and community support from civilians along the route.
“Being with other veterans was incredible,” Nichols says. “You’re surrounded by people who have gone through similar experiences, and right away there’s a bond — a kind of instant friendship and understanding. That connection was huge.”
But it was the generosity of strangers that truly transformed his perspective on community and asking for help. Throughout the journey, Veterans of Foreign Wars posts, local families and community volunteers opened their homes to the paddling veterans, providing meals, showers, laundry facilities and, most importantly, human connection.
“The support we received along the way was probably the best part of the entire trip,” Nichols reflects. “They treated us like family; it felt like visiting my own relatives — an aunt, uncle, parents. They welcomed us into their homes and cooked us amazing dinners — sometimes huge steaks and incredible meals.”
For someone who typically struggles with social anxiety, these interactions represented a profound shift.
“Normally, I’m reluctant to ask for help, especially from people I don’t know. But with these supporters, I never felt that way,” he says. “It really changed how I think about asking for help or support — it made me realize how special and generous people can be.”
The transformation extended beyond social comfort. The physical demands of paddling, combined with nights under the stars and days surrounded by wildlife — including frequent bald eagle sightings — provided the natural therapy Nichols had experienced on his beloved Grand Canyon hikes, but amplified over months rather than days.
“I definitely experienced better sleep during and after the trip,” he says. “Being out there in nature brought me a sense of peace and noticeably lowered my anxiety. There was so much peace and tranquility. I slept better, felt less anxious and just felt refreshed overall when it was done.”
By journey’s end, the veteran who had struggled with social situations found himself looking forward to meeting supporters along the route. After camping alone for three to five days at a stretch, the team would anticipate its next community connection.
“There was also a real sense of pride and accomplishment by the time we finished,” Nichols says. “I felt less anxiety and much more comfortable in social settings.”
Now back in Anthem, where he regularly hikes his favorite local trail on Daisy Mountain, Nichols carries forward the lessons learned on the river. The man who once discovered his neighborhood’s 3,000-foot peak after living nearby for years has gained a new appreciation for both adventure and community.
“I think the outdoors is truly therapeutic,” he says. “My biggest takeaway is: Get outdoors — plan some kind of adventure. It doesn’t have to be a 2,000-mile journey; just get out and hike more, especially if you live somewhere like Arizona. We’re practically at the epicenter of outdoor adventure.”
His message resonates with the philosophy that inspired Earl Shaffer in 1948 to “walk off the war” by becoming the first person to hike the entire Appalachian Trail. In an era when service members can travel from combat zones to civilian life within days — unlike historical warriors who had lengthy journeys home to process their experiences — programs like Warrior Expeditions provide that crucial transition time.
“So really, embrace the outdoors and go for it — you’ll feel better,” Nichols advises. “And you definitely don’t have to be a combat veteran to appreciate that. I think a lot of people can relate to the feeling you get after a hike or workout. It’s just so much better than sitting inside all day.”
The Mississippi River continues its eternal journey to the sea, indifferent to human struggles. But for Joe Nichols and the growing number of veterans finding healing through Warrior Expeditions, those muddy waters carry something precious downstream: proof that sometimes the longest journeys lead us home to ourselves.
