It is no secret that I love the ocean and the beach is my favorite place. It’s also no secret that I’m not in love with lakes, woods, rivers, those kinds of bug filled, woodsy places. I’ve camped as a far younger man and had fun doing it, however that was a long time ago, in a galaxy….etc..

My lovely wife, on the other hand loves the woods, and was very interested in tubing down the river during our small break in Vermont. I agreed to take on this adventure for her, she assured me it would be relaxing and fun. Coley and Eric, our incredibly wonderful hosts, (their Rose of Sharon cottage on their farm is a real treasure, think The Winvian in terms of beauty and amenities with the addition of a full kitchen equipped with the best tools, spices, home baked bread, fresh eggs, herbs…and on and on) provided not only the tubes, but a cooler tube and a dry bag, had us park at a point where we’d end up, and then ferried us upriver and launched us to begin. On the way, we stopped for ice, a sandwich, and some Focal Banger that the local store had from The Alchemist, to sip on our 2-3 hour drift, the weather was perfect, even I was looking forward to it at this point, what could go wrong?…

Off we went, lazily drifting downstream (very lazily as the current was pretty non existent), we popped open a can each and occasionally paddled to change direction, pushing off the occasional obstructing large rock, about a half hour of drift….then the water level seemed to drop and we were pretty much at an impasse and a stop. Sue, popped up and took it upon herself to “tow” us (truth be told, I had zero desire to do it and the simple act of getting out of the tube on the shallow slippery rocks was, at best, a tough task for this still inflexible body even with the massive weight loss over the last 5 years). Eventually it became impossible (she had just slipped and fallen squarely on a rock, on her tailbone) so I struggled up (falling face first into the drink, no biggie but still annoying) and decided to eat some of the sandwich while upright and just walk along in the increasingly shallow water. (Aside: The sandwich had become soaked as it was in the cooler tube which, even though covered, had unavoidably taken on some water during the towing) after a few bites I gave up the soaked sandwich and just started to walk along so that Sue could drift (SPOILER ALERT: I was now becoming increasingly disenchanted and was not very relaxed, though I was very thankful I had brought along water shoes I had long ago bought for the rocky coast of Rhode Island). So on we went…

About another 20 minutes in, walking, my right water shoe blew out…the protective rubber on the sole, simply ripped off. So now I was walking along with no bottom grip or protection on my right foot, slipping along and “uncomfortable”. I was trying very had to hold it together for Sue, but rapidly failing and acting more like an irritated spoiled child. I did swim on the very rare occasions the depth allowed but it was not very frequent….Then, in the distance, the bridge I thought was our exit point…so momentary elation…( second spoiler alert: NOPE)

Try as I might I could not see the exit point that Coley had described and with only one shoe still functioning was not looking forward to bushwhacking my way up a steep hill to get to the car. Sue was pretty adamant that the bridge we were now under could not be the right bridge as she didn’t think we were in the river long enough. I could not see past my, by now, out of bounds frustration and desire to be done coupled with the fear that if we drifted too far beyond the exit point I was facing a long walk without a shoe back to the car. We agreed that I would stay put under the bridge we were at and Sue, who was (rightly so) confident that it was further away would drift down, retrieve the car and come back…so off she went, as I found a rock to impatiently wait on.

What seemed like an eternity later ( likely 10 minutes) I saw she had found some people downstream and I excitedly left my rock and started to make my way toward them….at which point, my left shoe blew out…leaving me with zero protection on slippery, large rocks. Swimming where possible I forged on excitedly, and then….and then… I saw someone making his way toward me, carrying a tube and a can of Focal Banger…it was ERIC! The people Sue found on the riverbank were Coley and Eric who had a bad feeling when they realized the low water level, coupled with the fact that I was pretty clear this was not my choice of a trip and they came back to check on us. I put my still large ass in the tube and with beer in hand expelled a deep sigh of relief as Eric walked along side and pushed me along where necessary to where Sue and Coley were deflating the other tube. Upon arrival I got up, we walked up a gentle slope to their car, deflated the cooler tube and they took us back to our car where I delightedly drove back to the cottage to relax a bit, shower and get ready for dinner (another fabulous one, this time at The Prince and The Pauper in Woodstock)

Postscript: Today is the day where we “look back on this and it will all seem funny…”. My right foot feels like it has a large rock embedded in it, and Sue will have a sore tailbone for quite a while. It makes for a great story, and likely will be repeatedly embellished over the years, including appropriate Deliverance references (cue the banjos)…Truth is truly stranger than fiction…and today, I happily celebrate year 68, something I was not so sure I’d get to yesterday at this time…😉)