This weekend my family and I went up to a little cabin in the woods. It was actually my sisters, their boyfriends, some of their friends, me and my mom (Brad was busy and missed out). It was a tiny little cabin with no electricity or running water, but we spent most of our time around the campfire anyway. Friday night I didn’t get any sleep because half of the group stayed up until past 5am, keeping me unwillingly awake with them. Mom and I ended up leaving Saturday night because I had to get some sleep and I knew it wouldn’t happen if we stayed there again.

None of that is the point of this story though. The point is that on Saturday we rented some tubes to float a river for a few hours. I was so excited because it had been years since I did that, but now, on the other side of that trip, I can safely say that I’ll probably never want to go again. It wasn’t horrible, but it was probably the least relaxing thing I’ve ever done. I had visions of chilling in a tube, drinking a beer while the current quietly carried me down the river.

Not at all what happened.

Misadventure #1
We created two “pods” of tubes so we could stick together. Pod 1 – my pod – consisted of two double-seater tubes, five single tubes, eight people and one fully stocked cooler tied together with rope. We were large and quite unmanageable. It’s impossible to steer something like that, so we were basically never where we wanted to be. Always hung up on a fallen log, stuck in a bank, floating over large rocks or under overhanging trees. And those overhanging trees? FULL. OF. SPIDERS. When I went canoeing a couple years ago on the same river, I had a traumatic encounter with a spider tree, which I had kind of forgotten about until I was back on the river. And then it was too late. I spent the whole trip desperately trying to avoid these trees, and at one point I dove out of my tube and on top of my sister’s boyfriend’s six-year-old daughter to dodge a particularly spidery one. Seriously not relaxing.

Misadventure #2
About half an hour into the trip I saw a little animal swim across the river a hundred yards ahead of us. Aww, cute little animal. A few minutes later Pod 2 yelled back at us to watch out for the woodchuck – apparently they can be aggressive. We made our way to where the woodchuck was spotted and we lifted our feet just in case, but we weren’t really worried. Until suddenly the motherfucking woodchuck surfaced less than two feet from us. Without a bit of exaggeration I can say that the big furry beast was just out of arm’s reach from me when it surfaced and then dove back under. I saw every hair on its broad back. I may have made eye contact. Not so much a cute little animal by the way. This thing was as big as my sister’s yellow lab. It would have been fine if we could have just floated right past it, but instead we were stuck behind a fallen log. Try as we might, we could not get past the log without sticking our legs in the water, which none of us were willing to do with a giant killer woodchuck swimming below us.

While the rest of us tried to keep our limbs and asses from touching the water, my sister Emily was finally brave enough to jump in and pull us around the log. But then she lost her hat, so my sister Kelli had to jump in to save the hat while Emily saved us. Thankfully nobody was mauled by what one of the guys described as “a fucking bear in the water.”

Misadventure #3
But none of this is even the worst part of the trip. All day the weather was gorgeous, and even though we knew there was a small chance of rain, we weren’t concerned. A little sprinkle wouldn’t hurt. When we saw the storm cloud and heard it rumbling though, we knew we were going to get hit with a little more than rain. The guys at the rafting company told us to go left at the fork in the river and our exit was at the first road overpass after that. The first raindrops fell just as we came to the fork, so we figured we’d be out of the river before it got bad. But then it started down pouring, the kind of driving rain that stings your skin. It was so cold that we were all shivering violently.

And then it started to hail. Yes hail. Marble-sized chunks of ice pelted our bodies. So now it’s raining, it’s hailing, it’s freezing cold and the wind picks up. We have no idea how much farther we have to go and the little girl is scared to death. Andrea held onto her while her dad did his best to shield her with his body. Then we see lightening. We’re in the water and there is lightening striking nearby. The river is warmer than the air (what with the HAIL and all!), so it’s a choice between getting in the water with lightening nearby or staying above the water where it’s bitter cold.

About half an hour after the whole thing started, we finally see the bridge. As soon as we get out of the water, the rain lets up, but then it’s a quarter mile hike down a muddy path in bare feet, carrying heavy tubes and coolers. After the rain it was gorgeous and warm, so we spent the ride back to the cabin baking in the sun, which was magnificent. In the end, nobody got hurt so it really wasn’t that bad. But in the middle of the chaos, I looked at my sister and said, “This is what we’re doing right now. This is our life at this moment – floating down a river while it’s raining and hailing and lightening. How did this happen?” But at the same time I kept thinking that soon it would all be over and we’d have a great story to tell.

Edited to add: After some research, I determined that the woodchuck may have in fact been a beaver. This is no less discomforting.