If you know me, you know walking and chewing gum at the same time should be an Olympic sport. Color coordination? I rock it. Physical coordination? I roll it. Sometimes I remember to tuck first, usually I don’t. Sigh.
Recently a friend invited me to go kayaking along an extremely lazy river. I’ve kayaked before, in the ocean no less, so thought “Sure, this should be fine.” And it probably would have been, but as soon as I was told the plan had been changed to a canoe, I knew I was in trouble. This was not one of the old aluminum models that sit low in the water, but a plastic one that sat higher. When you factor in someone who is over six and a half feet tall, you begin to fear.
The river itself is incredibly tame and shallow, (much like the author) never getting above mid-thigh for our portion. The instructions if you tip over? Stand up. Unfortunately, 30-45 minutes in to the trip, there is a very low bridge you cannot go under sitting normally. Add to that our canoe sat high in the water so both of us had to sit on the bottom and hunch over. Right afterwards the water flow picks up briefly and gets choppy. 6’7” told me to go ahead and sit back in my seat. Unfortunately, he was so far forward I couldn’t put the backrest up to sit. Subsequently he started shifting to give me room. And over we went into the frigid water, banging up my knees and shins on the rocks to ensure I won’t be wearing a sundress for at least a month – no hardship in Chicago but it’s SUMMER in Charlotte.
I did grab his bag which had the dry box containing our phones, keys, etc. It was clear plastic, so in theory, you could tell by tipping it this way and that if any water got in. Or, you could open it to examine and then have the lock break. I politely took it from him and tucked it into my sports top so it would stay shut and not float away in the event we tipped again as trust me, nothing’s happening in my top.
While the temps were in the low 80s in Charlotte, they were maybe 70 degrees in the mountains. And closer to -12o with a mild breeze on the water when soaking wet. And of course, that’s the one three-hour period in my current life where I didn’t have a hot flash despite my fervent prayers for one. I’ve had 107 while writing this paragraph alone.
The views were awesome, even seen through the frost on my lashes. Well, they weren’t so awesome when the sky was threatening to rain. Pretty sure I’m not an atheist considering how fervently I was praying for it not to rain. A guy in a group of young men tubing together (wait, you can tube and bring a cooler of beer? NO ONE TOLD ME THAT WAS AN OPTION!) asked if we had tipped over. I looked like a wet, bedraggled, long-haired rat. So, with my best deadpan voice (which is identical to my usual speaking voice) I responded, “Why would you ask?” He hung his head while his friends snickered.
I had lost my paddle in the tumble, not that I’d used it much and when I did, I probably got more on him than I moved (accidental, I swear.) As I was more hindrance than help, he told me not to bother anymore. In fact, towards the end we came upon a group of about eight women tubing who were trying to paddle with their hands to reach the landing. We gave them my paddle to hasten their trip since I wasn’t using it (it was bone dry.) We got close enough to hand it to them. He continued to row but wondered if we’d gotten stuck as it suddenly became much harder. Well, one woman decided to grab on to our canoe for a tow even though one of her friends repeatedly said “I think they were just giving us a paddle, not tow” but she kept hanging on until almost the end. Freeloader.
One week later some of the feeling has come back to my extremeties. And yes, this trip earned me my first genuine “Bless your heart” from someone I didn’t know. I’m confident it won’t be the last.
Thanks for reading.
lisaland.me 