Saturday, August 28, 2010

A Roadtrip Detour

The Sword---Warp Riders

MoTW---Galaxy Of Terror

This is supposed to be Part 2 of this year's roadtrip and it should have
been posted for you reading pleasure a couple weeks ago or even last
week, but two weeks ago I went on the canoe trip (race) from hell and
last week was spent in jail.

So I'm going to waste our time by explaining why the canoe trip (race)
sucked maggoty maggots. We do it every year as a get-together with the
woman's family and it normally comes off without too much of a hitch,
raping mountainmen aside.

This year someone came up with a brilliant plan to go to a different
river. Yeah, sounded fun...ON FUCKING PAPER.

It actually started off ok, but then about five minutes into the trip
(race), we noticed something that really, really sucked: this river had
quite a few shallow spots. So shallow we found ourselves repeatedly
having to get out of the canoe and dragging it to deeper parts.

For some reason, I decided I needed to take my cellphone along. The
woman had a bag which she thought might be waterproof, so I put my phone
in a plastic baggie, zipped it shut and put it in the side pocket making
sure it too was zippered shut.

About 45 minutes into the trip (race), everyone decided it would be nice
to stop on a tiny sandbar on the side of the river and have snacks. We
maneuvered our canoe over to this sandbar and sat in the canoe, not
wanting to get out because the river sucked. And it was too far to walk
over to the snacks.

We hung around for about 15 minutes and decided to get going again, fuck
the other people. So we left our ragtag party behind and headed back
down the river, trying to avoid other canoes, kayaks and inner tubes
strung together so bunches of people could sit together and get drunk,
letting the river carry them wherever.

Oh, did I forget to mention there were hundred of those drunk fuckers in
inner tubes? Why yes there were. And they wouldn't do a damned thing to
get out of the way. Assholes.

We got stuck again and, when attempting to get out of the canoe, we
tipped over. There went the bag into the water, there went the woman
into the water, there went me into the water. And then the woman started
screaming about her ankle, it was, according to her, broken.

When I landed, I bashed my lower right leg onto some rocks and it hurt.
But, my pain aside, I stood up and went over to where the woman was
whimpering and, as I am supposed to do, held her up as she tested her
ankle which she found wasn't broken.

We managed to get the canoe upright, grabbed the bag and tossed it into
the canoe and watched in awe as one of our paddled floated gaily down
the river. Now I was pissed.

I then looked down at my leg and, right underneath the knee, I saw
something white sticking out and my first thought was that this was kind
of like "Burt Reynolds in "Deliverance". It didn't hurt, so I figured I
was in shock and my body was making sure I wasn't feeling pain, or maybe
I was so pissed I didn't care. EIther way, I got back into that canoe
and , with the one paddle, we forged ahead.

One of our party caught up and we told them about our paddle so they
took off, hoping to recover it. The woman was calm since her ankle was
a-ok, but she was worried about the blood pouring from my leg. I didn't
care. I just wanted this shit to end.

Maybe 30 minutes later, the paddle-finding party came back with the
paddle which had been picked up by one of those drunken inner tube
floating motherfuckers.

We continued on and then came upon a tree that had fallen across the
river. Nice. Now I was really pissed. A few good samaritans were helping
others across, but I we hopped (carefully) out of the canoe, dragged it
across ourselves and continued on, not giving a shit about helping
anyone else.

Finally we reached a calm, people free part of the river and the woman
decided to grab something from the bag. And what she came up with was a
couple soaked towels, a wet bag of trail mix and, finally, my phone from
that zippered side pocket.

When she took the baggie out, I was pleased to see water pouring out.
When she took the phone out of the baggie, I was even more pleased that
water poured out of that as well. (Sidenote: The pack of smokes in my
shirt pocket? DRY! How strange is that?)

Even more pleased, we hit those paddles with a vengeance and smoked that
fucking river. We ended up at the end point at least 30 minutes before
anyone else in our party showed up. So we run the canoe race (trip). As
we do every year.

That white thing poking out of my leg, you ask? Sadly it wasn't bone,
just a white rock that somehow got stuck. What a bummer.

All we got out of the whole mess was a tweaked ankle, a gash and nasty
bump on the leg and a drowned cellphone, but the smokes were still dry
and tasty.

I was able to drink a shitload of alcohol that night and the woman
didn't care. That's why I keep her around.

COMING NEXT: Ok, back to where were we going to sleep?

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