Well ferrets and firecrackers...I know I've promised an unemployment blaug, but I guess outside of the general mundane routine that is hermiting myself/working out/finding new work I figured it just didn't make for very good theater. (It's okay, folks. Temp staff got me a new gig in a week or so. And I found another one on MONSTER that seemed right up my alley...with the caveat being I'd need to obtain my series 6, 26, AND 63. Time to stock up on Gingko Biloba. )
So outside of my personal goal of having read (nearly) all the Harry Potter books in 10 days. (As opposed to my last, lame, unemployment goal of watching film series like "The Godfather" or "Lord of the Rings"...extended cut...) I was given an opportunity by my pal Davey to hit up the Cannon River for some tubin. (Or in my case, "tubbin". Rhymes w/"chubbin") As many of my fellow MN'an's can attest, the weather hasn't been very "July" like. Rather, it's been floating in the low 60's for the last couple of days. We were assured it would get to at least 75 degree's by Caturday, the date of our voyage, and if tubing were out then we'd go on and rent canoes. This...this all sounds pretty straightforward.
Now if anyone remembers the ill-fated trip down the old CR back in 2007, you will remember it was a bit of a castastrophe on my part. Lost my sunglasses, got ridiculously inebriate, attempted to emulate the noble dolphin while wearing my favorite cowboy hat and ruined it, not to mention bunging myself up pretty good on the rocks etc. And, in spite of wearing waterproof SPF 45 sunblock, managed to snare myself a dinger of a burn. Not fun. No way.
"Managing Restraint" was my theme this year. I figured a canoe trip would keep me safely dry and free of any river mishaps. I remembered all my Manitou/Scouting practice (That's right, friends. "J" stroke? "C" stroke? I'm all up in that.) So what if I hadn't canoed in 16/17 years. How hard could it be, right? And when you get tired/bored you either let the other person paddle or let the lazy river take you while you steer. So I bundled up, forwent sunscreen (and left the beerz at home, thanks!), and we all meandered South. Hey, the sun could still come out sometime too! What could POSSibly go awry? Well, when your friendly neighborhood B-Squad Ahab is at the paddle...much:
-My canoe was swamped, twice due to vigorous paddling away from the shore. And I'm fairly certain my canoe buddy hates me. At the very least, they switched up partners with me mid-way through.
-Cell phone, which was double wrapped in sealed ziploc baggies, was ruined...again.
-Cowboy hat now looks like a rumpled version of the "Sorting Hat" due to said capsizing.
-Somehow when the canoes were rented, we were taken to the farthest launching point upriver. About 12 miles. So after a while we were all like "I wonder what time it is?" and another canoer yells "5:30!"...(We started around 12:30-1 and expected to get back, well, sooner)
-That bit about the river carrying you? Nah-uh. It was almost still. See, in my fantasy world I had imagined something so low key it would make sleeping appear industrious. Nope. There was lots, and lots of paddling. And more. And sitting on a hard metal bench. For 6+ hours.
-I lost my favorite red flannel. That, my Diet Mt. Dew, sunglasses, and half a sammich all fell prey to the rivers murky...sometimes more than 2 foot...depths.
-Did I mention when the temperature drops as the day goes on...there is no sun to dry you...and you've already fallen in the river so you're soaked...did I mention it gets kinda cold? Oof.
- At the mid-way point I stepped out of the canoe into what can only be called lightning sand. It nearly bi-sected me at the ballz (I had expected solid ground underfoot and sunk in immediately up to my knee while stepping out of the canoe) and I actually had to do the whole two-handed "pull-my-leg-out" routine to get unstuck.
-It's funny how many scrapes and cuts you can get and not realize it due to cold water. Active. Open. Bleeding. I was like "oh hey..."
- I lost my gum somewhere. So my mouth tasted pretty narsty and I got self-conscious that my breath would knock out cattle.
-All that paddling? The "Oh I was a boy scout and it's just canoeing so I will f#ck some s#it up on this river BLAH!"!?!? That, coupled with sitting prone on that cold metal seat. Coupled with occasionally having to step out of the boat onto unsure footing. Or pulling it off shore with buddies inside. Or trying to get back in to it in waist deep water. Sheeoot. I started my new workout routine 4 weeks ago. Pretty intense, at least since I haven't worked out that hard for a few years.
Nothing. I haven't felt this sore since trying to manually stir cement to finish my side walk. Since carrying over 80 paver blocks, or shovelling two Volvo-sized piles of black dirt and wheelbarrowing it for a weekend. Folks, I type this after waking up at 6:30 am to roll over in bed only to realize that even rolling over in bed is a chore. I dropped my water bottle since I couldn't make a stupid fist to hold it. So I popped some ibuprofen and chillaxed for a bit before realizing the long, comic potential of my day.
And you know what? I had a blast. A real blast. Yee Haw. Let's tube if and when it gets warmer tho'.
KTHXBYE
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