What a blast.
Four of us women put in at Florence Bridge at ten o'clock last night, as the last of the fishermen were packing up their gear and clearing out. I wonder what they thought of the giggly gaggle of middle aged women (I was the youngest by nearly ten years) putting inner tubes in the water as the twilight faded from the sky.
The water temperature and the seventy degree air temperature felt perfect at first. We didn't start to feel chilly until near the end. But no matter. Our hearts were warm. We laughed together for a full hour, until we climbed out of the water at Chief Looking Glass Campground. I haven't had that much fun in a very long time.
Back at home, snuggled in a chair with a blanket and a steaming cup of tea, I smiled for another hour as I relived our little adventure minute by minute.
I'm smiling again as I type.
I believe our antics last night would fall perfectly under the category of lunacy.
We will definitely do this again.
Songs of the Lunar Tubers
A giggling gaggle of girls
Put their tubes in the river's dark swirls
In the brilliant moon light
They were surely a sight
One's legs shone like gleaming white pearls!
The fishermen thought they were looney
Putting in by the light of the moonie
But the women, unfazed
Left the gazers amazed
As they pushed off, some singing a tunie.
The four women floated downstream
Together, they worked as a team
Dodging beavers, bullfrogs,
And occasional logs
Their ages they just did not seem.
When the tubers got out of the river
Their bellies, with laughter did quiver
They marched to the car
O'er the gravel sandbar
And finally started to shiver.
The foursome, though tired and cold
Thought themselves to be spunky and bold
Would they ever repeat
This incredible feat?
Same time, same place next month, I'm told.