In-land Crusing, Or You Can't Steer A Tube

This is a cautionary tale of the Old Captain's adventures back home in the red dirt country. Most all who know me know of my love of the water and wild places, this shall be the tale of a lovely Sunday afternoon cruise. Cruise indeed, actually a tubing experience, at least that is what it's called.

Aw yes, tubing, floating lazily down a slow moving mountain river, with ones posterior stuck into a canvas covered inner tube, dragging along a cooler of ones favorite beverage. The very thought brings to mind an idyllic setting, also thinking back to the fun we used to have in the 1970's rambling raft race on the Hooch. All in all, a capital idea.

My intrepid group of explorers, first took to the task of stocking the cooler for said experience. Two store stops and a cracked windshield later we arrive at the point of embarkation Here is where one signs a page in spiral notebook and pay up for your tube rental. At this point our group of intrepid explorers is informed, no coolers, no cans, no bottles. So much for said cooler stocking. Then we are informed we can have a personal size cooler, but should not let cans be visible. A personal sized cooler is produced and re- stocked, then we await transport to put in site, along with a dozen or so of various Yuppie tourists.

An old model 1970's short school bus arrives and we are herded onto it, very reminiscent of some transports I rode in during my military time. The driver looks like Kid Rock, I kid you not, no pun intended. Behind it is towed a trailer filled with tube floats and life jackets. When we arrive at the put in sight it is determined that there are not enough life jackets to go around, and one is a requirement for each person. Kid Rock charges off to save the day and retrieve more life jackets.

At long last, properly briefed on the dangers of missing a vital left turn in the river and on not missing the take out spot, we are off into the water. Almost immediately the idyllic thought changes as every one floats off in their own direction. Here it should be added that an out of control inner tube can be next to impossible to maneuver. leaving one out of control in fast moving water, and at the mercy of the river. We have used the straps of two life jackets to fasten two tubes together, a move which may be regretted at a later time. We are pulled under low hanging trees and floated into snaky looking washes.

The first couple sets of light rapids proved doable, and other than high centering a few rocks, all went well. That is, right up until the time when my beautiful float buddy decided to leave her tube in the midst of a rapid, hitting her head on a rock in the process. Once we had recovered and had everyone mounted back up on their float, we almost immediately are pulled under the largest river birch limb that I have ever seen. This is also a point when having two tubes strapped together, may have proved a detriment, as we each choose our own way through the branches, but wait beyond this fine obstacle. just up ahead lies the "fork in the river, where ye must turn left", you guessed it, we're headed to the right. We pull through and get back left, with the help of a friendly sun bathing local, who had nothing be warnings for the rest of our tubing experience.

Alas! Onward to the falls it's only class 4 how bad can that be. I and my beautiful float buddy are still attached by life jacket straps, and we have a conversation about us un- connecting our tubes, and maybe even downing the jackets. Too late for all of that, we are now committed. Hearing strains of Eternal Father in my head I tell my companion to just hang on, how bad could it be. There is a wide array of locals gathered around the falls just to watch the show of hapless tubers, floundering through the falls, and even one brave sole trying to fish right in the main channel. In we go! At the point of the first drop in the falls, my float buddy decides to leave her tube again, we managed to get her on to the side of my tube, where she road out the rest of the falls.

The take out point proved to be no less challenging, getting my float buddy safely to the side to get out, I found myself prematurely exiting my own tube and tumbled into the channel, which you guessed it was pulling me away from the take out. Hey, the water is only about knee to waist deep, just stand up. Slick rocky bottom, bare feet, perfect recipe for a broke ankle, wait! Another idea, lie back down and swim out along the bottom. Works perfect, I am out of the river and awaiting extraction.

Kid Rock, arrives back to pick us up in yet another 1970's short bus, don't care at this point, just get on the bus. This ancient warrior of a bus starts chugging and sputtering, just as soon as we start moving. The question is posed, does this thing have brakes? Answer, no. Just as we crest the highest mountain the bus runs out of gas. Kid Rock is on his fourth cigarette. We coast the next 5 or so miles through the mountains, at times backing up quite the traffic jam behind us. We coast into a country store gas station, we manage to stop at the pump, the bus tire is chocked and the bus is fueled, Kid Rock lights up number six.

Like I said in the beginning. just a cautionary tale. All in all a great experience, with a really wonderful group of fellow floaters.

Old Captain sends.