As I mentioned before, I decided on day one, in a bout of overconfidence stimulated by the ingestion of tequila, that I should definitely go in the paddle boat the next morning, wearing a helmet and participating in the paddling, etc. Let me clarify here that this is the type of raft I was in when I ended up underneath a raft and experienced the life-flashing-before-my-eyes thing. But I figured that this was a different situation because there were professionals involved.
(You should probably laugh when you read the word professionals if you have ever met a river guide).
(If you have never met a river guide, let me tell you that professional, while an accurate term, is maybe not the first adjective you would think of to describe them).
(They’re like camp counselors).
(Or summertime ski bums).
(In a good way).
So I totally follow through. I’m the first person to volunteer for the paddle raft and I put my helmet and life jacket on like a champ – after I explain to Derrick, the river guide in charge of the paddle raft, that if I fall into the water I will cry and scream and refuse to pat my head (the indication that you are OK when you have fallen in).
Once again, this story would be better if something eventful happened.
But mostly I talked with Ariel about the LSAT and with Jeremy about children and the amazing way in which they change your perspective on life, etc., and although that might sound boring, it actually wasn’t because we also laughed a lot. Then something slightly eventful happened. Joe arrived from the Ducky (an inflatable kayak), and switched with someone on the paddle raft. Joe is the kind of person who has a lot of experience on rivers and likes to do crazy crazy things. Like jump in the water. Upon arriving in the paddleboat, he tried to use his oar to push Jeremy out of the boat, which I found EXTREMELY frightening.
Moments later, he pushed Margi into the water. In response, my heart rate decided to increase dramatically and I started to ponder my imminent death as a result of other people getting into the water.
(Maybe I should point out that I actually can swim, that I was wearing a life jacket and a helmet, and that there were no rapids within sight).
(Just so that you understand I was being reasonable).
I tolerated Joe’s general insanity for about ten minutes, which seems like three interminable hours, before announcing that I would really like to get back into Zack’s raft if that would be at all possible. (K great, thanks). Fortunately, no one jeered at me, or even seemed to realize that I was in mortal danger.
The rest of the day was pretty much awesome.
But I had already expended all of my bravery, so I couldn’t actually immerse myself in water, as would have been required to successfully bathe.
On day 3, the spectacular river guide Russ explained that I should try out the Ducky in the afternoon without fear of rapids. So I totally did. I even paddled around with Kathryn sitting in the back portion. Mostly I did this out of desperation to get exercise because, if you don’t know, the Salmon River is in the middle of a bunch of mountains with no running trails and, if you don’t know, I’m not really brave enough to swim in a river for exercise. Basically, I paddled like a maniac. And also learned how to row one of the big rafts. It was a really big and exciting day for me.
But it did not culminate in anything that resembled bathing.
Mostly it culminated in a head of hair that stood up sort of like egg whites when you beat them for a meringue, you know, remaining in peaks and valleys depending on where you last had the whisk. I would describe the texture not exactly as greasy, but rather sticky.
(Because I was going for that).