Tuesday, August 23, 2005


Saturday a week ago we went tubing on the Gunpowder with Kw'ali and Klezma. We only did the 45 minute route between the washed-out bridge at Bunker Hill Road and York Road in Hereford; good thing, too, given the complaints from everyone that the water was too cold (it was, and it always is). Klezma tried to sit on the side of her tube instead of down in it; despite warnings from Kw'ali and I that a spill was inevitable, she stayed in that position until a spider frightened her, and the dunking commenced. The cool fast water and the hot muggy air merged in a thick steam reminiscent of Apocalypse Now.

Back in the day we used to tube from the Prettyboy Dam to Hereford, a route that took HOURS. Once on said route tubing with the Twins I lost my car keys in the river, only to find them hanging from the State Park sign at Hereford. This strange bit of synchronicity is inexplicable, given that I lost my keys somewhere to the west, and the finder must have somehow recovered them and passed us on the river--and given also that we weren't intending to stop at Hereford, but to continue on to Monkton. Fortunately our Algebra teacher was also a forest ranger and he gave us a ride in his pickup. I recall that day fondly; I think 'Lizbet had some Kool Aid spiked with vodka, and Cathy Leigh another jug of gin and juice. We were flush and fleshy.

After the more recent tube ride we tied the big floaters to Klezma's car and took a brief hike back the trails, interrupting some teens who were dismayed at having to stub out and hide their smoking fatty. On the way back along the treacherous path Klezma saved Cha from a 15-foot plunge over a cliff down to a rocky Christopher Reeve fate; Cha tried to non-chalant a leap over a log at a point where the trail was about six inches wide and ended up teetering--Klezma grabbed Cha's arm, planted her feet, and yanked Cha back from the precipice. Later we were playing Frisbee and Klezma professed a klutzy ignorance about how to throw or catch it. "I'm really un-coordinated," she complained as we tried to teach her. My reply? "You just ju-jitsued my wife's clumsy ass back from certain doom, so you can't be that physically inept."