How Not To Go Rafting (Part 3) (753 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.33 on 6 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by <grandestranso.at.miculo.com> (View user info) at 2004-01-13 00:18:56 EST
(Please see Part 1: http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_get.cgi?message=1073709208977318748
and Part 2: http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_get.cgi?message=1073778754951215174 for the rest of the story)
I saw Dennis trying to climb up to shore, but slipping back into the water. I ran over and grabbed his arm. I had to save him. It was my fate. My destiny. I was the one. Then my moment of glory was interrupted.
"Don't grab me. Grab the raft!" What?
It took me second to fully comprehend the request that was just yelled into my ear. Dennis was trying to "save" the raft. He was risking his neck to pull in our shoddily built vehicle. Fuck that!
I said, "Fuck that! Let it go." He shook his head.
"Mitzi's towel is in there. She'll kill me if I don't save that. Just grab the towel and I'll let the raft go."
Quickly, I stepped out as far as I could, grabbed the towel, and threw it to shore. I was reaching back into the raft to grab Dennis' sandals and my camera when Dennis, upon seeing the towel had reached safety, let go of the rope. I snatched one sandal and jumped back up onto the rocks.
After catching my breath, Dennis and I looked at each other. Then we looked behind us. There was the road about two hundred yards away, across a field of rocks. Big boulders, large pebbles, and small pieces of sharp stone. We were going to have to traverse this in order to reach the road and all we had was one sandal. The fun wasn't over yet.
Dennis put on the lone sole protector and skipped ahead. I hobbled toward the road cursing under my breath with the occasional, "Ow!" making Dennis turn around. He made it up the embankment to the road, and from a small overpass, he looked down upon me.
"I'm throwing the sandal! It'll help you get over that shit quicker! Here!" He overhand tossed the Birkenstock and it flipped head over heel far, far away from him. And me. My long journey over the rocky terrain was now longer. However, I finally made it to our sole ankle-strap and sole and limped over the rocks, up the embankment and finally to Dennis.
As we were about to start the long walk back up the river to where Jil and Mitzi should be deflating the second raft, we saw two guys come walking by with kayaks. They were in full wet suits and they had REAL OARS. They looked us over: two guys, soaking wet, one shirtless, bandanas on, shoeless, and defeated. Must be Americans.
They walked down to the shore, slipped into their kayaks and paddled off up river. Smug bastards. Who are they to have the right equipment? Oh, yeah. They're smart.
So, we walked on up the road, sharp little rocks stabbing into my feet since Dennis was wearing the sandal. After a bit, we began to trade off on the sandal. We could handle the cutting stones for short intervals. No problem. We were almost to the car. Dennis and I rounded the next bend and...
"Where the fuck is my car?!" he yelled. "Damn. The girls must have headed down river to the lake. They're waiting for us. I hope they don't see an empty raft float by before we get there." Wouldn't that have been rich?
We sighed and began the walk back down river. Dennis got sick of trading out the sandal. He took my bandana and his and proceeded to create some makeshift cloth wraps for the soles and balls of his feet. I had the one Birk now for the rest of the journey. And what a journey it was. We passed some homes with the tenants outside looking at us as if we were madmen. The occasional car zipped by with the passengers looking at us with confused amusement. I wish I could have been as ignorant about how we looked as Dennis seemed to be, but my mind picks up every little detail. We looked like a post-bath cat: wet, angry, and slightly confused as to why this is all happening.
We passed the point in the river where we had climbed out, trying not to look. Not to far from there was a gas station. We were going to try to use the phone to call Jil's cellular. Walking seven miles just wasn't going to cut it. Lo and behold, there was Dennis' Mercedes. I wasn't going to have to walk that far after all.
The adventure was ending as my friend and I ran over to the car. It was the girls all right. I climbed into the passenger seat as Dennis got behind the steering wheel. I sighed in relief and reached into the glove box to grab my wallet. I wanted to buy more beer from the little store we were parked at. The amount we had back at camp wasn't going to be enough after today's excursion.
I felt around and there was no wallet. I checked the armrest storage box, under the seat, under my ass, everywhere. Dennis said his wallet was missing, too. Panic was once again in the air. We drove back up to the turnout where our journey began and looked around where we had parked. No damn wallets. Dennis gave up and went to get back in the car.
"Shit," he said with defeat in his voice. I walked around to the driver's side, stood next to Dennis and followed his pointing finger with my eyes. Someone had busted the lock and broken into the car. I laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed.
I wanted a cold beer.
User Reviews
Submitted by Christ (user info) at 2004-01-13 18:52:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by esso_merda (user info) at 2004-01-13 04:37:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Seriously, I gotta stop posting this late. No one is reading my shit!
Submitted by esso_merda (user info) at 2004-01-13 01:27:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
You are right on the money with Dennis. "This scar is from when I went rafting!" That would have been worse. Whenever I tell the story, he always jumps in at the end with, "But didn't it make a great story?" I could do without some great stories.
Submitted by blujnbbyqn (user info) at 2004-01-13 01:22:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent. I read parts 1 and 2 last night. If you hadn't written part 3 by tomorrow I was going to start threatening great bodily harm. (Ask Razor what happened when he took took forever with the Sydney Saga.) Since you are relatively new I really didn't want to have to get nasty with you. Fortunately you did post the conclusion and no blood had you be spilled.
I was hoping Dennis had suffered more. Nothing serious, maybe a broken bone or a nasty looking gash. Something that might have made him just the teeniest bit sorry for his foolishness. He probably would have looked at the cast or stitches as a badge of honor rather than a humiliating reminder of his stupidity.
Save the towel? Save the TOWEL?!? He made you save her towel and she let his car get broken into?
Damn good story nonetheless. Keep it up!
Michelle
Submitted by SammySam (user info) at 2004-01-13 00:55:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I like what the doctor says in part 2. Great
Submitted by esso_merda (user info) at 2004-01-13 00:22:06 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Cam whore.