float on your back with your feet downriver

a bad logic problem with psychological components

oh, i do love me a subtitle. and now for our story.

five people decide to go white water tubing. let us call them A through E respectively. these people do not wear (do not, indeed, suspect they could even need) life vests, helmets, or shoes that strap to their feet. the first tube malfunction occurs at the gas station, where a hole is discovered that not even an engineer with duct tape can make useable (and for those of you who know engineers, you know that must be SOME hole). not to worry, la la la, A and B happen to have picked up the most humongous inner tube known to man and it will serve for two people. cheerio, carry on! (liverpool, anyone?)

the first flip flop (E's) is lost at the point of entrance to the river, where it succumbs to strong suction in the sand. do not fret, however, it is later recovered by A and B with their mad double gigantic tube skills. the river, by the way, is icy ICY glacial meltwater -- brrrrrr! and off they set: A and B in the giant tube (tube 1), C (with some trepidation) in one of the water world-esqe tubes with handles and cup holders (tube 2), D in a teeny dinky tube (tube 3), and E in the other water world tube (tube 4). i would add diagrams and do the thing right, but this requires learning a new skill. pshaw! please note that there is no alcohol involved, this leisure activity requires much more mental alertness than your average float down the comal. other adventurers on the same rock-strewn river include white water rafters (with life jackets and helmets) and kayakers (with life jackets and helmets). there are actual rapids. it is fun and fast and freeeeezing cold and quite the entertaining adventure. until.

after nearly running into some kayakers (hey, they have paddles and can steer; tubes do not), C and her tube part ways about half way down the river. luckily, this happens in a calm spot near the shore, but it is the catalyst. D and E maneuver themselves to the side to wait for her and for A and B, who have not yet appeared around the bend. C finally reappears, but, having had earlier doubts, now decides she is thoroughly done with braving it on her own and would prefer to share tube 2 with D. as this transition occurs, A and B sail merrily past chasing C's flip flop (second shoe fatality) -- mad double gigantic tube skills, i tell you. C and D cozily aboard tube 2 (cuddling girls in bikinis, anyone?), they set off once more. E follows aboard tube 4 with tube 3 around her neck somewhat impairing both mobility and vision. oops.

somewhat farther down, they spy A and B waving madly at them from -- what's this? -- the shore. that's right, gigantic tube 1 has met its sad demise at the hands of no one knows exactly what, but has luckily imploded right on the bank. E, double tubes and all, manages to join them while C and D reach the shore a few metres on. D picks her way back among the slippery rocks and scratchy wounding things back up the shore for a consultation. our adventurers now have: five people, nine shoes, two medium tubes, and a very small tube which, incidentally, now has a corresponding small hole. AND they are on the opposite side of the river from the road (near, it must be noted, a veritable flip flop graveyard. there are at least a dozen flops scattered on the rocks, no two of which match). voila, logic problem! which people will be optimally combined from now on? will two fairly large people fit on a medium-sized tube long enough to make it across the river? if so, how many members of the party walk from there? how far away ARE they from the car, exactly?

much laughter and several sad math jokes later, it is determined that C and D will cross first in tube 2, A and B will follow balanced unsteadily in tube 4, and E will cross last while carefully covering the hole in dinky tube 3. the force is with C and D, and they make it to the road side of the river. however, all turns to fear and panic when A and B are unseated near a large rock mid-river.

luckily, they are saved by a passing kayaker (kayaker 1, very nice). E, who can no longer tell exactly what is going on, picks her way along shore in a strange fit of logic after the errant tube which, after all, they will still need to get across to the road. she can see A standing, but not B. is there brokenness? only time will tell. as C and D watch from the correct side of the river, E (once again wearing one tube and riding the other) reaches A and B who are not, in fact, broken, but are badly shaken. B is crying uncontrollably and A is bleeding in various random places from trying to stand up rather than float on his back with his feet downriver. kayaker 1 sets off to collect tube 2 from C and D on the opposite shore, A and B stare dazedly, and bitchy kayaker 2 lectures E. fun times all around. kayaker 1 returns, B is finally convinced to get into a tube long enough to get to the other side of the river, and the adventurers reunite on the correct (road-side) bank.

we now have: five people (whew!), four shoes, three tubes (two useable, one with hole), and an unknown distance to travel to the car (which, incidentally, is a stick shift). C will not walk up the bank without shoes, but has lost hers. B is still crying and refuses to either a) get back in the water or b) let A get back in the water. only A and D can drive stick. it is mildly stupid to get back on the river at all, egregiously stupid to have only one person do so. no one knows how far away the car actually is. yesssss! less organized logic problem for people with very little logic left in their now-befuddled brains!

much calming down and consultation later, it is decided that C will borrow E's shoes and she, A, and B will walk up to the trailer by the side of the road and sit while D and E brave the rest of the river to the car (under, it happens, the watchful eyes of a group of weird floating motorized plywood raft people who happened to have witnessed the earlier catastrophe). the remaining tube trip turns out to be quite enjoyable, if colder than ever, and ends just before threatening clouds bring heavy winds ripping through the canyon. our adventurers reach the car successfully, reunite once more by the trailer down by the river (similar to van, but not quite), and manage to bundle themselves, wetter, nakeder, and more banged up than when they started, into various cars and safely home. the first shoe lost ends up being one of the only ones retained. the moral of the story? wear shoes that strap to your feet, and life jackets, and helmets. when you fall off your tube, float on your back with your feet downriver. and learn to drive a stick shift, you may need to escape in one some day.

and that, my friends, is how random passing kayaker 1 joins the ranks of real life pocket boys that we are thankful for. after -- gasp! -- an actual adventure.