Well, after I posted all of that stuff about Bull Sluice, then I realized that this was all there was to it.
It was pretty.
There was some excellent people watching.
We saw four kayakers take on the rapids as well as four yellow rafts of whitewaterers tackle Bull Sluice.
I was amazed at the professionalism of the young whitewater rafters guides. They were all relatively physically fit, and well-trained in what to do -- all was orchestrated, organized, and safety oriented.
At one time, the guides brought a whole group of rafters to the rocks to observe other rafters go by. Everyone wore a helmet and a life jacket -- the "safety" element was out in force. They sure managed to right a raft that got turned around, they used rope to pull folks in who happened to be tossed out, and they had one guide on "life" duty at all times. It was smart fun.
[This is the group who were watching the others come down the sluice -- so they could see how it was done. I called them Storm Troopers .. cuz that's what they reminded me of with their matching helmets, life jackets, and oars. LOL]
Hubby and I enjoyed it, but after the white water rafters tumbled on down the river out of sight and we saw no more kayakers taking the plunge, we had a little incentive to be done --- folks with too many kids and not enough hands to hold them showed up -- a cue for these two (us) to wave bye to the Bull.
A young couple layered with five kids, and the wife, pregnant, begin their descent. We heard them before we saw them -- but mom started handing kids over the wooden fence to daddy, the kids came spelunking down the rocks in age order -- three boys, maybe 11, 9, and 7 and a little girl about 4 ---and daddy, kept saying loudly and clearly, "Who's idea is this?" "I'm not liking this one bit." "Hey [insert kid name here], wait a minute, you can't go down there."
I was like, "Amen, brother."
The family continued to be out of sync as they tentatively pawed their way down to the edge of the bank following the boys who were already in the water, swimming across the river, and heading to jump from a rock into the rapids. The parents were trying to hold one little girl back from the water all the while swinging a two year old between them. This was not a Kodak moment -- this was 911 on speed dial.
I felt a little tightening in the tummy (could be the shorts), and nudged hubby that we ought to head on out before we watched an all American family tragedy.
Hubby was done -- the girl in the bikini had moved off -- the insanity had arrived -- he'd gotten his money's worth. Nothing spells L-E-A-V-E to my man more than unsupervised children, unless it's supervised children in the booth next to you at the Red Lobster.
We turned west on 76, we did not stop and get any "peeches," and I totally missed Santa Claus on the way back -- I did manage to catch a glimpse of "School Bus Entering the Road" sign. That last sight always gives me the shivers.