Colorado tube ride nearly killed me

Never let your mind write checks your body can’t cash.

That vacation in Colorado I wrote about last week in advance of leaving went off mostly as planned. I soaked in a hot spring and each of those little boys got an opportunity to reel in a fish. My body and fish whispering allowed those checks to be cashed. It was that last full day of vacation that tripped me up and darn near killed me.

It was decided by the family group of six that tubing the San Juan River would be less expensive and wouldn’t take as much of the day as a raft trip with river guide would take.

Sure, I suffer from scoliosis and nearly every disc in my spine has a tilt or bulge to it, but how hard could it be to sit on a tube and float down a couple or three miles of river? They estimated it would take about an hour and a half.

God sent me a strong warning that I was doing the wrong thing, right after I paid the outfitter for the tubes and our ride to the river. A guy, at least 10 years younger and 50-75 pounds lighter than myself, coming across the parking lot was grumbling about walking back. “Too much dragging bottom for us old fat guys,” he exclaimed.

As I said, I had already paid, so I tried to ignore his complaining as I got on the bus with the giant rubber duck called The Duke. The driver shoved The Duke down into gear and began his guide spiel.

“You are about to experience serious whitewater, today the river is about an intermediate level.” That seemed a little at odds with the song the guy in the parking lot was singing.

The Duke pulled to a stop in the parking lot of a riverside restaurant and tubes were passed out and we headed across the restaurant patio to the river.

I waded in and plopped down on the tube only to find I was aground. I struggled up and got my tube floating and before I knew it I was in the first rapid. My feet went up just as my guide had cautioned not to do or you would join the San Juan swim team. He told us those holes were deep and sunglasses should be secured with a strap and he was right. Somehow I managed to grab my glasses as I went under and I kept the other hand ahold of my tube, but I lost my boony hat and nearly one pool shoe.

As I came out of the fast water someone threw my hat back to me and as I stood up I put the shoe back on. The next hole was coming up quick as I remounted and I over-corrected and went in backward this time. The yard sale was much more complete on this time through, sunglasses gone, I never saw the hat come up and my left shoe was gone as well.

With no luck finding my gear I climbed aboard and soldiered on. The next rapid I actually made it through but another one in quick succession took me under and tore my floatation device from my hands. A kid downriver threw my tube up on a rock and I began trying to wade and swim down to it.

By this time I had lost sight of others in my party. I thought they were ahead of me but it turns out only my sister and one nephew on a double tube were still in the river. The others had bailed out and walked to the outfitter.

I’m a bit too hard-headed for that and I wasn’t sure if I could walk that far with one shoe on hot pavement so I got back on my tube.

From there things are a bit of a blur. My legs took turns cramping the rest of the way and when I wasn’t picking myself up out of the foot of a rapid I was hung up on low rocks somewhere. I couldn’t believe I still hadn’t reached the takeout.

Finally after going through one bad rapid where my head did its best pinball imitation I was exhausted and bleeding from my head.

That’s when Donnie, an Air Force veteran from Colorado Springs floated up and asked if I needed help. I told him I guessed I did as I held the back of my head to stop the bleeding. He stuck with me and helped float me through the rest of the rapids (except for the last one, which was a real doozy), and got me off the river.

When I finally got to the outfitter’s parking lot I was bleeding from my head, I had lost a toenail on that bare foot and I was sunburned and sore.

Yeah, I joined the varsity San Juan swim team that day. I even bought the t-shirt to prove it.

Karl Terry writes for Clovis Media Inc. Contact him at:

[email protected]