True Life: I am an Eagle Scout

So we went cabrewing last weekend, as roughly outlined in Matt's last post. In my last post, I said I'd provide all the nutty details later. The time has come.

10:30AM--CVS PARKING LOT
Some tour guides have assembled as Matt and I walk up from apt212. We head inside to buy Dr. Pepper, since Mr. Boston needs a friend. Matt also bought allergy medicine. We load up the cheap styrofoam (yay Earth!) coolers with the liquid consumables people have brought, and after waiting what seemed like forever (in actuality, 10-15 minutes), Callen, Kristel and Kristen (the two of which shall be abbreviated Kristel/n) show up. Callen looked baller and put Kristel/n to shame with his limitless towel-based headwear. With everyone present, we depart CVS with the simple directions to get to Brookville.

11:10--SOMEWHERE NEAR THE OHIO/INDIANA BORDER
We see the directions forget a small detail, and face a decision to turn left or right, even though the street isn't marked as it should've been at all. We make the wise choice to turn left, and then intuition tells us to turn another random street. It pays off and we find where we're supposed to go.

11:20--WHITEWATER CANOEING
We pull in the gravel parking lot and see several signs which read "Parkin" "Campin" and "Johns," all shaped like arrows pointing to parking lots (glorified fields), campgrounds, and restrooms (didn't explore these). We get in line to rent what we'd hoped would be rafts, and wait for everyone else to show up. The line was long and before we got to the front, we were a complete group. We were then told that they were out of rafts. At this point Kristen begins complaining how we should've left sooner/canoes suck/I can't canoe/etc. We ignore her panic and get 6 canoes for 12 people. I'd like to note I was somewhat hesitant in putting my information down as the contact person, as I would've likely been stuck with the $1,200 cost quoted for a lost canoe.

12:00-4:30--WHITEWATER RIVER
We're getting into our canoes, and Callen, my canoe partner, fell in. In an effort to keep his shoes (who wears shoes?) dry, he laid in the river with his feet over the side and in the canoe. It was a sight. I have to admit I also doubted his canoing abilities. He turned out to be a great canoe partner.

A little ways down the river and it's clear that we're not good at staying together as a group. We pull over, distribute beer, and pair up, so that two canoes are tied together with the life jackets we were no longer wearing (the river was really shallow and yes it only takes an inch to drown but deal with it). Callen, Brittney, Avery and I were together. Avery and I enjoyed watching other canoes zig-zag down the river since they had no idea how to steer. Not to name names, but it was Kristl/n and Rachel/Jen. The entire time we were on the water my history as an Eagle Scout was brought up, and not always in the reverent way it deserves. It's ok though, because some of the mockers were thanking me later when I helped steer them down the river.

The group is doing well, and we played in the current and skipped rocks when we took a break, but shortly thereafter, it happened. Tied to Jen and Rachel's canoe, Kristel/n's canoe is rocked into the water when their partner canoe does something silly. There are few, if any witnesses other than the victims themselves. Bottom line, canoes were full of water, the river was full of beer, and my small flotilla of Callen, Brittney, Avery and I stopped to help. By "stopped to help," I mean that Brittney and Avery (but mostly Brittney) clung to a dead tree near the shore while I caught the paddles floating downstream of the wreck. I started walking upstream against the current so that they could have paddles. I later found a small piece of rust in my heel from my 50 yard trek upstream. Thanks ladies. When I reach their canoes, the Eagle Scout comments rage on and I help them get set to go again.

Things are scooting along down the river, although the pair of canoes holding Matt, Audrey, Laura and Kahlil have abandoned us. And, to their disappointment, the beer. We set off thinking we'll see them "just around the riverbend," but no. They're probably 30 minutes down stream as we're leaving our dead tree. Brittney's a beast. So things are going alright, and then Kristel/n, who seperated from their buddies, managed to flip. Again. Seeing that they weren't too terribly screwed, we left them, expecting them to paddle and catch up. That didn't happen, and we didn't see them until nearly an hour or more later.

In the meantime, we caught up with the rest of our group who had abandoned us. They were fairly loud (read: drunk) at this point, and we were happy to see them because they had food, while they were happy to see us because we had booze. It was at this point I realized I was missing the true meaning of cabrewing: the brew. I tell Avery, who's next to me, that I'm not in the right mindset for this, so she makes me chug Mr. Boston and Dr. Pepper, who it turns out are rather good friends.

With a better mental outlook, we continue on and eventually stop to wait for Kristel/n. I skip some rocks, recall how CALLEN FELL IN, and eventually Kristel/n show up. They're acting rather forlorn and need to stop to pee. They do so, and Callen and I pair up with them to make sure they get back ok. They did. Eagle Scout comments abounded.

Like Matt said, we took a janky (thanks to Nathan for the adjective) bus back to where we started. And from there, the night continued.