Spent the weekend at a unique Missouri phenomenon known as the "float trip." As my father has pointed out, this is a bit of a misnomer. I, in truth, did not float down the river. Any attempt to do so would end poorly as I have no natural buoyancy and would sink like a rock. The floating is done via canoe. Really, it should be called a canoe trip, not a float trip. A canoe trip where one paddles along the river and uses it as an excuse to drink during the day (if you are of age). The goal is to have a good time and of course, stay in your canoe...a goal at which I was successful up until the last 20 minutes.
How exactly it happened I don't know - maybe roommate D secretly installed an eject button on my canoe seat and wanted to see if it worked. All I know is roommate C's canoe was jammed backwards by a log, the current was pulling us right towards them, I went to push the paddle off from the log, missed, canoe slammed into log right beside me, then was airborne before hitting the water. Resurfaced about 10 feet further down the river, triumphantly holding my sunglasses in one hand (while tumbling down the river underwater saving the sunglasses was of utmost importance...don't know why...) According to onlookers the fashion in which I left the canoe was a sight to behold. Since the specifics of how I wound up flying through the air (not touching anything according to one witness) are fuzzy, I really wish there was documentation of some kind. It may be the closest I ever come to flying.
Oh, and stayed tuned for the story of my grandmother, steroids, and mistaken identity...
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