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Jun. 26th, 2004 10:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickWent white water rafting with my brother on the lower Youghiogheny river today. I was not particularly geared up for this, but Roy wanted to go, so I figured it wouldn't hurt. We went with the Laurel Highlands Outdoor Center, an outfit that runs river tours (among other things) and definitely has its shit together. They're very organized, on-the-ball folks who put together a well-run tour. In addition, they hire some absolutely adorable bishounen to staff, and it being summer, these folks wander around without shirts on. While I probably have no business staring at the under-thirty crowd, it doesn't cost anything to look, so I did. In particular, they had an absolutely cut boy working with the rafts and such. He was lovely, what with the readily mussable hair and a torso that would make several sculptors cry. Didn't hurt that he had that whole flower of youth thing going on, either. Rowr!
Roy and I opted for a two-person duckie inflatable boat, not a huge six person rafty thing, so that we would be the only two people steering and such. We actually did our own paddling instead of sitting there like lumps while the tour people steered. While I am glad we steered our own boat, I suspect that there's something to the whole concept of practice. The tour guide people, who do this several times a day, are much better at it than we were. Anyway, I've had worse days, and it had its moments. Generally, my idea of fun does not include being wet and cold... so forgive me that the assessment of my day isn't more of a ringing endorsement. It would have been more ringing if I were a bigger fan of wet && cold. I can do one or the other, but both at once really, really bites.
Other than being sunburned and scuffed (minor abrasion, some bruising) on my left shin because I slammed into a rock one of the times we flipped the boat over, I'm in pretty good shape. These things happen, heading west, and I'm not feeling litigious about any of the fairly minor damage I suffered, which is a good thing because the hold harmless I had to sign to get in the boat was pretty darned detailed about telling me I had no rights left at all in the event of injury, fatality, or other misfortune.
Anyway, after I was fished out of the river like a drowned rat for the second time that day, nice Mr. Tour Guide person what did the fishing said "So, gorgeous, you come here often?" *sigh* There is likely no other phrase that nice Mr. Tour Guide could have said that would have made me feel more like a middle-aged dweeb than that one, though I'm sure he was not trying to be rude. The shopworn opening line and large grin were pretty good cues that this was friendly good humor. After all, he could have said "Daft bint, this is the second time we've had to fetch you up out of the river today, what do you think you are doing here?" and he didn't say that. I'm sure he has days where something similar to that phrase comes to mind instead of friendly, upbeat conversation.
It was not his fault the boat tipped over and dumped me ass over teakettle in the river. He wasn't the one failing to steer. That would have been me. He wasn't even in the boat, which absolves him entirely of piloting errors. Anyway, it gets worse. After that well-intentioned opening from nice Mr. Tour Guide, I gathered up my (dripping) shreds of dignity, glared at nice Mr. Tour Guide person, and allowed as how I was older than he was. This would have been far more effective if I hadn't been dripping wet, but the main problem with its effectiveness was that I wasn't. He was. (He wears it well, though. This was not helping, either.) Add about twenty to my dweeb content for the day. Damn it.
So. Given that I got to be wet and cold, managed to flip the boat over twice in front of the entire world, and got to display the complete extent of my daftness in front of nice Mr. Tour Guide person, it was a pretty good day. Broadened my horizons, anyway. I don't get much experience looking like an idiot in front of other people. This was probably my quota for the next six months or so.
Roy and I opted for a two-person duckie inflatable boat, not a huge six person rafty thing, so that we would be the only two people steering and such. We actually did our own paddling instead of sitting there like lumps while the tour people steered. While I am glad we steered our own boat, I suspect that there's something to the whole concept of practice. The tour guide people, who do this several times a day, are much better at it than we were. Anyway, I've had worse days, and it had its moments. Generally, my idea of fun does not include being wet and cold... so forgive me that the assessment of my day isn't more of a ringing endorsement. It would have been more ringing if I were a bigger fan of wet && cold. I can do one or the other, but both at once really, really bites.
Other than being sunburned and scuffed (minor abrasion, some bruising) on my left shin because I slammed into a rock one of the times we flipped the boat over, I'm in pretty good shape. These things happen, heading west, and I'm not feeling litigious about any of the fairly minor damage I suffered, which is a good thing because the hold harmless I had to sign to get in the boat was pretty darned detailed about telling me I had no rights left at all in the event of injury, fatality, or other misfortune.
Anyway, after I was fished out of the river like a drowned rat for the second time that day, nice Mr. Tour Guide person what did the fishing said "So, gorgeous, you come here often?" *sigh* There is likely no other phrase that nice Mr. Tour Guide could have said that would have made me feel more like a middle-aged dweeb than that one, though I'm sure he was not trying to be rude. The shopworn opening line and large grin were pretty good cues that this was friendly good humor. After all, he could have said "Daft bint, this is the second time we've had to fetch you up out of the river today, what do you think you are doing here?" and he didn't say that. I'm sure he has days where something similar to that phrase comes to mind instead of friendly, upbeat conversation.
It was not his fault the boat tipped over and dumped me ass over teakettle in the river. He wasn't the one failing to steer. That would have been me. He wasn't even in the boat, which absolves him entirely of piloting errors. Anyway, it gets worse. After that well-intentioned opening from nice Mr. Tour Guide, I gathered up my (dripping) shreds of dignity, glared at nice Mr. Tour Guide person, and allowed as how I was older than he was. This would have been far more effective if I hadn't been dripping wet, but the main problem with its effectiveness was that I wasn't. He was. (He wears it well, though. This was not helping, either.) Add about twenty to my dweeb content for the day. Damn it.
So. Given that I got to be wet and cold, managed to flip the boat over twice in front of the entire world, and got to display the complete extent of my daftness in front of nice Mr. Tour Guide person, it was a pretty good day. Broadened my horizons, anyway. I don't get much experience looking like an idiot in front of other people. This was probably my quota for the next six months or so.
