The weekend starts Friday night, so this will serve as my reflection of such activities. At the Diamondback's game, I was approached by members of the Imperial Forces who called me "Oregon liberal rebel alliance scum" who asked me to "come with me, sir." Turns out a Deathstar officer, stormtrooper grunt and Tie-bomber pilot are no match for the just, so I was able to escape into the all-you-can-eat concorse by a simple Jedi mind trick.
Saturday on the salt proved to be a far greater challenge than a meer baseball game. Thirteen souls entered the water that fatefull afternoon, but three flip-flops failed to immerge from the river at the end of the day. Where was Rudy's left flip flop? We may never know. How did Dave enter the river with his feet protected, but immerge with Sheridan towels wrapped around his feet to be able to walk back to the shuttle? We may never know.
The float itself was much longer in duration that it seemed. I good mix of quiet slow parts and minor rapids made for a fun rided. We stayed together for the majority and had a great time sharing the river with the HUNDREDS of other floaters peeing along a route you don't want to swallow.
When we put out, we almost lost a fourth flip flop, but thankfully a good semeritan heard the desperate shouts to "save that sandal" and pulled the stray footwear from the ever-moving current.
All-in-all,it was a great time, made even better by our teacher-of-the-year mentor Allen. Thanks to everyone who made this journey possible.
Sorry to everyone who would like to see shots on the river. Smart phones are expensive and don't like water very much, so mine was in the hotel room.
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