may be out of your league when…
paddling buddies ask “Just curious, but where did you put your
car keys?” or “Do you want me to hold your keys?”
feel the irresistible urge to tighten your helmet strap when looking
at the upcoming section of the river.
see your buddies playing rock-paper-scissors for your gear.
nudge one-another when they see the terrible line that you’re
applaud when you finally drag your waterlogged body onto the shore.
mouth is too dry to spit above the upcoming hole, or
can spit to show that you’re not afraid, but then you
to take a drink to re-moisten your mouth.
feel the urge to take a last minute dash to the port-apotty.
find yourself thinking of all the things that you still want to do in
begin thinking about lemmings jumping off a cliff together.
write “Please Turn Over” on the bottom of your boat.
dry suit becomes a wet suit, and you’re still upright.
gotta take a leak three times in a row — BEFORE running the rapid.
meet shaky, white-faced survivors returning from the bank scout
party’s trip leader points you out and proclaims, “See that guy,
that’s exactly what I was talking about — don’t…”
boaters start humming the theme from Deliverance as you make your
begin to recognize you by the bottom or your boat.
guys) Your external organs become internal.
forget to paddle…. just sit there with your paddle over your head
take a bad line above a hole and the locals begin cheering as you
Christmas, your spouse takes out a 1 year $500,000 term policy on
your life — w/ double indemnity for accidental drowning.
gets their cameras out when they see you getting into your boat.
pull into an eddy and you see one of your mentors who looks at you
and says, “Holy cow,
are you doing here?”
pull out throw bags, cell phones and first aid kits as you head for
insurance company cancels you..
than 2 people with video cameras follow you.
kids inquire about your will before you leave on the trip.
at work ask you to show them where you put your data.
get a letter from your boat’s manufacturer asking you to switch
puts a watch on your helmet and a camera on your bow, pointed at your
head. (Takes a licking….)
doctor recommends a weekly MRI of your brain.
get sponsorship from medical supply companies.
HMO declares Chapter 11; blames you.
the middle of your run, you realize that everybody in your group has
set up safety.
order to avoid paddling with you, your friends resort to staging
their own abduction.
bow passes over the horizon line and you still can’t see the landing
paddle like a bit player in a Star Trek landing party.
From the Conewago (PA) Canoe Club web page.
in The Eddy Line, July 2003