Well facebook may do the job pictorially, but verbally it just doesn't cut it.. So I'm just going to give you a bit of a run-down on our recent river-float adventure.
Things worth noting:
-It was not the warmest of days
-In fact, it was forecast to rain in the afternoon
-We had not pre-tested our floating devices ("oh yeah, they're fine" from a father does not suffice).
-We had not paid much attention to the timing of our route.
-Nor of the location of the road in relation to the river.
But let me begin.
We were dropped off in a nice little reserve-y place where we blew up our humble crafts (5 li-los), leapt aboard, and floated/bounded/splashed and writhed away. At first the li-los behaved somewhat like errant seahorses, bobbing up and down with us on their backs; but we soon had them tamed, and were able to lie back and cruise on downstream, paddling here and there to avoid the snags.
Tamed, I say, until they began to leak. And it got colder. A breeze blew. It rained a little. We'd been going probably a bit over an hour when the novelty was really starting to wear off (as was the circulation in Laura's arm, holding her leak shut). We floated past a house. At that stage I was still pretty determined to continue, but I did catch a couple of the others casting longing glances in that direction.
A little later, beginning to freeze (did I mention the day was somewhat lacking in sunshine?), we climbed out and peered about the countryside, looking for clues as to our location. A rocky, prickled field dissuaded us from attempting any short-cuts, and so we re-entered the murky depths and paddled on (backwards worked well).
Finally, about 2 hours in, and the end nowhere in sight, we bailed, crawling out and up the bank, our half-deflated li-los trailing behind us. No road to be seen, but we spied some powerlines and a hopeful-looking cluster of buildings, and made a beeline for them.
But THEN - you wanna hear the hitch? The field was covered in prickles. And the next field.
We painstakingly hopped and stumbled and tiptoed and squeaked our way over them. Han ended up tearing her t-shirt into strips and fashioning makeshift shoes for her and Laura.
Finally, we arrived at civilisation. We knocked at its door. It answered. An oldish lady came to our rescue, let us use the phone to call our lift (the dear father), and sympathically offered us shirts and water and towels and a lift to the main road. We declined the first two but accepted the lift and towels.
The sympathy began to wear a little thin, however, into some dressing-down:
"On li-los? Barefoot? What were you thinking?!"
"I'm sure you all deserve a flogging"..
And there were some awkward moments:
"So what schools do you all go to?" (Georgie, the youngest, leapt in - gamely saying she'd just finished at the Christian school last year. The rest of us exchanged looks which were a curious mix of hilarity and horror - we could not tell her that the majority of us were actually in our twenties!!)
But all's well that end's well - Dad arrived to rescue us, we waved goodbye to the angelic weathered face of civilisation, and limped home to hot showers and lunch. Happy days.
And I take it back. There is no reason to EVER reconsider river-floating. Even if your toes curl up and drop off due to frostbite and your feet are speared with thorns the size of your fist and you need to amputate..
Do it. It will still be worth it.
Things worth noting:
-It was not the warmest of days
-In fact, it was forecast to rain in the afternoon
-We had not pre-tested our floating devices ("oh yeah, they're fine" from a father does not suffice).
-We had not paid much attention to the timing of our route.
-Nor of the location of the road in relation to the river.
But let me begin.
We were dropped off in a nice little reserve-y place where we blew up our humble crafts (5 li-los), leapt aboard, and floated/bounded/splashed and writhed away. At first the li-los behaved somewhat like errant seahorses, bobbing up and down with us on their backs; but we soon had them tamed, and were able to lie back and cruise on downstream, paddling here and there to avoid the snags.
Tamed, I say, until they began to leak. And it got colder. A breeze blew. It rained a little. We'd been going probably a bit over an hour when the novelty was really starting to wear off (as was the circulation in Laura's arm, holding her leak shut). We floated past a house. At that stage I was still pretty determined to continue, but I did catch a couple of the others casting longing glances in that direction.
A little later, beginning to freeze (did I mention the day was somewhat lacking in sunshine?), we climbed out and peered about the countryside, looking for clues as to our location. A rocky, prickled field dissuaded us from attempting any short-cuts, and so we re-entered the murky depths and paddled on (backwards worked well).
Finally, about 2 hours in, and the end nowhere in sight, we bailed, crawling out and up the bank, our half-deflated li-los trailing behind us. No road to be seen, but we spied some powerlines and a hopeful-looking cluster of buildings, and made a beeline for them.
But THEN - you wanna hear the hitch? The field was covered in prickles. And the next field.
We painstakingly hopped and stumbled and tiptoed and squeaked our way over them. Han ended up tearing her t-shirt into strips and fashioning makeshift shoes for her and Laura.
Finally, we arrived at civilisation. We knocked at its door. It answered. An oldish lady came to our rescue, let us use the phone to call our lift (the dear father), and sympathically offered us shirts and water and towels and a lift to the main road. We declined the first two but accepted the lift and towels.
The sympathy began to wear a little thin, however, into some dressing-down:
"On li-los? Barefoot? What were you thinking?!"
"I'm sure you all deserve a flogging"..
And there were some awkward moments:
"So what schools do you all go to?" (Georgie, the youngest, leapt in - gamely saying she'd just finished at the Christian school last year. The rest of us exchanged looks which were a curious mix of hilarity and horror - we could not tell her that the majority of us were actually in our twenties!!)
But all's well that end's well - Dad arrived to rescue us, we waved goodbye to the angelic weathered face of civilisation, and limped home to hot showers and lunch. Happy days.
And I take it back. There is no reason to EVER reconsider river-floating. Even if your toes curl up and drop off due to frostbite and your feet are speared with thorns the size of your fist and you need to amputate..
Do it. It will still be worth it.
