First of all....THANK YOU to Valerie for taking us whitewater rafting. It was freaking awesome!!! However, I must say that WE made it awesome (with the help of the other idiots on the raft). This is how the day went:Neither kid can find their water shoes. So, they are instructed by Jayson to wear their old running shoes. (Did you catch the word "old"?) We drive to Jackson, get checked in for the float trip, and Sydni has a meltdown. Her "old" running shoes won't even go on her feet. And, that, of course, starts a fight between her and Jayson. A fifteen minute fight that ends in her being mad at him and him being mad at her and me begging both of them to just get along...just for today...just for me. It worked. Sydni rented water booties, and Jayson helped her zip them up. All was right in the world again. (Now that I think about it, though, I'm pretty sure those running shoes came home with us and are now back in Sydni's closet. Uhhhhhhh.....aren't they too small???)
Next up - The guided raft trip. Since this wasn't a private float, we are on a 14-person raft with 9 people who are complete strangers to us. After our guide (Katie) gives us our PFD Briefing (Personal Flotation Device....why can't we just call it a Life Jacket??), her next question is, "Who here cannot paddle?". Keep in mind, when she asks this, she is looking straight at my children, who are both saying, "I wanna paddle! I wanna paddle!" But, before Katie (our guide) can even go down that road with them, a blue-haired woman in her early 60's pipes-up and says, "My husband and I will NOT be paddling." Well, alrighty then. Thanks for coming.
Let's head to the boat.
Who wants to be in the back with the guide? ME! ME! ME! And Valerie.
Which two people here are strong and have good listening skills? Monte doesn't work out much, but he says he has good listening skills. Jayson appears to be strong, but we all know that he has NO listening skills. So....Jayson and Monte, head to the front! You'll make a great team.
As for the rest of you, carefully climb in the boat and choose a spot.
Once 2 out of the 3 seats directly in front of me are full, I yell out to Sydni on the shore and ask if she'll be sitting there. (You know, since she's my 10-year old daughter...and we're on a family vacation...and I'm her mother.) That's when Jenny-the-Old-Hag (the one who refused to paddle) plops her happy ass down and says, "Oh, no. I will be sitting here so that I can stay the most dry."
Uh-oh. Smoke and flames. Coming out of my ears and eyes. Lightening bolts of death are hitting her between the shoulder blades. But, apparently, when you have reached her level of bitchiness, all death attempts are deflected. Maybe water will work. Witches melt, right? I will have plenty of opportunities downriver to accidentally hit her with a rogue paddle splash. Just biding my time.....
In the meantime, Valerie and I are going to make this float group a little less boring and lot more offended. :-) We spend a solid hour making our tour guide laugh until she cries. We distract her with our dirty jokes and innuendos to the point that she forgets to call out commands to Monte and Jayson up front. We fill her in on our plan to raid the nearby raft and steal their cooler full of Budlight Lime, but we tell the Boring Bettys up front that we are searching for CapriSun and Lemon Lime Shasta. When Katie says her ass hurts, Valerie tells her it's probably an ingrown hair and that waxing can prevent that. That's when we learn that Katie DOES NOT wax her ass. So, we decide that her ass probably hurt from not using toilet paper. I mean, hello, she is a Whitewater Guide, and that makes her "all natural", right? No-go. She assured us that tissue paper is her friend and she uses deodorant, too.
The majority of the strangers on our raft were what we would call "people-of-size". And our guide certainly wasn't blind to it. When your job is to steer a raft of 14 people, it's kind of hard to keep your trap shut when it comes to weight. I swear, Katie made reference to the "weight of the boat" no less than 15 times. And it was funny as hell to me every single time. Laugh outloud funny. Couldn't really help myself.
On the rare occassion when Katie wasn't laughing and was actually able to call out commands to all of us, whitewater rafting seemed quite basic. You take your little yellow paddle, listen for Katie, and stay in sync with the paddle in front of you...."All Forward" "All Back" "Take a Break" No explanantion needed, right?
WRONG.
Valerie described her side of the raft as looking like a bowl of spaghetti. My side looked more like a sword fight with Sumo Wrestlers. And, God forbid the "adventurists" in front of me had to paddle more than 2 strokes....THAT was simply not happening. Don't worry, we'll keep you afloat, people. We'll get you thru Big Kahuna, Lunch Counter, and Champagne. However, if you fall out, I'm not saving your ass. Because THAT will be when I stop paddling. See how that works?
By now, we're almost done with our trip. I've missed all opportunities to get Jenny-the-Old-Hag drenched and am thoroughly disappointed in myself. But, then I realize something....That old hag just spent over an hour... on a raft... with me sitting directly behind her. I'm guessing that my offensive language, Valerie's evil laugh, and our never-ending raunchy joke fest was probably worse than any amount of water I could have gotten in Ole Jenny's blue hair.
I'm gonna chalk this one up as a win...For me. Take that, ya' old hag.
P.S. Next time you decide to go on a Whitewater Rafting trip, you should probably plan on some water and paddling. With the possibility of both of those affecting you at the very same time. I'm just sayin'.
Happy Traks!
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