Tubing Down the River

It was suggested to me in June as a fun adventure and a great way to relax and get away from it all.  I wanted to go and had no problem picturing myself gracefully floating down a river, surrounded by beautiful scenery and soaking up the sun.  When looking for adventure, the guy to turn to is Neal.  "Not enough water in the river, it will be too low".  Every time it even sprinkled, I sent him an email, "it rained".  On Friday we went, Neal and his van full of refugee boys and me.  Missing was Ben who backed out at the last minute leaving Neal and I disappointed.  Schroon river was our destination.  It was sunny and hot and I thought tubing down a river was a perfect summer activity.

After dropping one car off at an exit point near a bridge, we traveled 5 miles up the road to our start.  Emptying our gear, we were soon headed down the river in our tubes.  The water was warm and the sun was out.  I could tell by the sides of the river bank, the water was low by several feet.  The current was very slow, much too slow for the boys and they quickly began to paddle with their arms, forcing me to keep up.  Neal, the instigator kept the kids laughing as he splashed and joked with the guys as we went.  It was fun to be around them.

The first of the four rapids we encountered was a blast.  Right before we got to it, I had managed to gracefully flip on to my stomach and negotiate the low water by using my hands, without grounding myself or hitting the rocks.  The next one was a bit trickier and I lost my tube.  Luckily it was stuck on a rock about ten feet from where I landed.  Grace left me as I attempted to get it.  Falling and sputtering in the water, I finally managed to crawl my way to it and with a desperate lunge, I settled back in the tube and pushed off again.  I understood why Neal insisted all the boys wear sneakers.  My flip flops were useless and my pedicure was ruined.  The next set of rapids were intense and I hung on to my tube with a vise grip and got banged up some, but got through mostly unscathed.  Keep in mind the water levels were low so if you didn't keep your body up, you hit lots of rocks and when I say rapids, they looked small, but the rocks were numerous, and by the time we got to the last one, I was wary.

I could hear them well before seeing them but had not managed to flip over to my stomach while I could and the rapids took me.  Down I went over this innocent bump and the water poured over me taking my hat and putting me into a spin I couldn't control.  Slamming into rock after rock each time managing to hit the same spot on my backside.  After getting grounded on some rocks, I was finally able to get on a smooth track and flipped over onto my stomach.  I paddled to catch up, leaving my hat behind.

The rest of the river was how I imagined it would be, smooth and just beautiful.  I saw ducks and even a heron and settled into a relaxing float down the river.  Even the boys no longer were paddling as if in a race, but just with an occasional kick or arm swing to keep moving.  Almost 4 hours later we found the bridge.  I had finished last, but didn't care.  Climbing up the bank, I realized how famished and tired I was. Thankfully one of the boys carried my tube for me.  The snacks I bought for the boys were quickly devoured as I sat quietly eating my protein bar.  My butt ached and I was nauseated from hunger, but I was in a good spot.  The mental crap I had been carrying around all week was gone, left on the rocks, with my hat.  I found peace in the flowing beauty of the river.

I was proud of myself.  I did it, even without the safety of my family.  No one helped me through the rough parts, no one treated me differently, no one cared about my ruined pedicure and no one cared that I wasn't perfect.  It was me, all me, who paddled for 5 miles, pulled myself off the rocks and embraced the experience.  Would I do it again?  Absolutely, after rain for at least 5 straight days, a pair of sneakers and hopefully my adventure guide, Neal with his trusty white van filled with boys.

***My next Blog will be about Neal and the refugee boys he helps.  A big thank you to them for letting me tag along.  They were awesome.  I may not know how to pronounce their names or understand them when they talk, but smiles and laughter are a universal language.  :)