Tita B vs. Nature
So I went camping this past weekend with my fellow Snarkies. An unofficial Snarward meeting, if you will. There was food, fun and canoeing madness. I made my traditional adobo & rice. You heard that right. I can cook that shit over a fire! Herr Falco’s got killer canoeing skills. I have a small fear of drowning, but with that guy, I know I’m safe. And I won’t lie when I say that doing the hippy-hippy-shake with mah girl Sassy Sassmouth, after polishing off a couple of bottles of wine, was awesome. Also, GDuder can rap the shit outta some Warren G’s Regulate. Dude is sick with the old school Hip Hop. This camping trip was like so many others in my past and brings to mind earlier days when I wasn’t the nature loving fool I am today. So here’s one story.
When I was in my early 20’s, my girlfriend K and I took a 3-month long roadtrip around the country. We drove 12,000 miles and camped most of the way. Ok, we took the occasional free board & lodging from random family & friends when we could. But most of the time, it was just the two of us. Alone. 24/7. In a small tent. And compact car. That’s a lot of togetherness. And while I believe myself to be a woman of great patience, my limits were tested on this trip. Well, I can’t put all the blame on K. After all, Mother Nature is one pesky betch.
We were hanging out in Phoenix visiting some old college friends. K & I were told about Salt River and how cool it was to inner-tube down. So we decided to go. We borrowed my friend’s cooler and some bungees, loaded up some sammiches, beer and apples and set out for a day on the river. A bus dropped us off and we were told it would pick us up 4 hours later somewhere down the river. A-typical scenario. K bungeed the cooler between our inner tubes and she dropped it in the water. As she did this, K slipped and face planted into the water, thereby soaking all our ciggys in her shirt pocket. Great start. Nature = 1.
An hour in, we were floating along, talking about nothing (read: boys) and we got hungry. I struggled to open the damn cooler lid and had to pry it open with all my might. Apparently, the cooler wasn’t securely fastened and the whole thing tips over. Bye-bye, food & drinks. K & I instantly dive into the river. This was a rescue mission and the beer was top priority. We manage to save 2 bottles and 1 apple. But the rest was gone. Nature = 2.
In my haste to save the food, I lost my t-shirt, which I had taken off and draped over my inner tube. K dove again to search for my shirt, but no dice. Nature = 3. I was beginning to think Salt River had it out for us.
We floated on, lounging in our tubes and watching buzzards circle overhead. Not. A. Good. Sign. And if we’re playing the odds, we are screwed. Somewhere along the way, we hit a shallow spot and had to carry our tubes for a few hundred feet. It wasn’t until this point that we noticed a missing cooler lid. Huh, when did that happen? And it’s a borrowed cooler. That’ll have to be replaced. Nice. Nature = 4.
Finally, we see the rest of our bus mates on the shore. They were calling to us that this was our long awaited pick-up spot. Unfortunately, this also happened to coincide with the only fast current we encountered all day. And we were drifting further from shore. So we both jumped in the water. Damn, it’s deep! One arm swimming, the other arm towing the inner tubes like a Baywatch professional. But the water was really moving! I don’t think I’ve ever swum harder or faster, before or since. K matched me stroke for stroke. Water splashing. People on shore yelling. River current hauling ass. Something touched my foot! Panic setting in and drowning is one of my worst fears! Where’s the shore? WHERE’S THE SHORE?! K reaches land and pulls me in. We drop the tubes at the bus, get on and nearly pass out. Salt River can take all my food, cigarettes, clothing, whatever and that’s fine. But it couldn’t pull me under. For those keeping score, that’s Nature = 4, TitaB = 1. But I lived to tell the tale, so I win. You hear that, Nature? I WIN!
Tags: Baywatch, camping, canoeing, Hip Hop, Phoenix, Regulate, Salt River, Warren G
Ahhhhh, that gave me the anxiety just reading it!
Wait, G Duder knows all the words to Regulate? Huh.
That and a whole lot more. Crazy, right?