Paddle, Paddle, Paddle! Splash, crash, gnash. Paddle, Paddle, piddle, paditty, pfffft. Growl, Grr, whimper, wimp, UNCLE.Headstrong into the river. Caution to the wind. Like a pit bull gnawing at the vicious, taunting white caps.
White water is no place for the weak. You have to be Strong. You have to be Brave. You have to be CrazY. 1 out of 3 ain't...bad?
Pioneers we were. No fear. Boldly going where even the drunks oared clear. Swiftly downstream. Recklessly chewing through rapid after rapid after rapid.
UNTIL....it was time to go uP.
Like salmon in heat. A barrel at the edge of Niagara. Brash determination. Overwhelming frustration. Toeing the line of panic.
ARR ARR ARR! Bring it on Baby! The Class .3 Rapids no match for the mettle of our adventurous paddles. The Class .4....ah...maybe a different story.
We suffered our moments of severe doubt. Plans for waterfront relocation ensued. Thoughts of a watery grave materialized. But we got through it. Next time though, I'm bringing the bike. I coulda pedaled through it faster!
Disclosure: Objects in river appear larger than they really were. The facts contained within this post were intentionally presented in a misleading, exaggerated fashion for the sake of entertainment. No boaters were seriously injured throughout the making of this mockumentary.
4 comments:
Hmmm... The breathless prose doesn't exactly lend Creedence to your tale.
We have a winner! I was trying to work that in there. Congratulations you. Now where did I put that prize....
About 600 miles north, I believe.
'Tis the season to get the boats in the water... tomorrow I'll be proving that people can breath underwater, if properly equipped. Yea for water!
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