It was my kind of float trip. No whitewater rapids, no being upside down in a kayak, no being flung out of the boat onto rocks.
In fact, it was extra-mild. My daughter Lissa, the more adventurous of our Lewis and Clark team, showed me (on the internet) the river access upriver from my place. I was concerned that the many twists and turns that the river makes would make for a long journey. Maybe we would still be floating along after dark.
A needless worry, as it turned out. We drove the River Run tubes up in her Jeep and carried them down the bank, where there were sandbars. We launched ourselves after I insisted that we tie our tubes together with the ropes that came with them.
After some time in the sluggish current, our expedition leader, not me, made the life-saving decision to turn back. We hopped off the tubes and waded in the shallow water back to where we had put in. We had gone about two blocks.
We came home and waded across the river with the tubes. We walked on the sandy far side up to the bend, then floated lazily back. We didn't scrape our bottoms on the bottom as much. By that time, I had gotten brave enough to not be tied to Lissa's tube.
The next time the river goes over Whale Rock, we shall return to the site of our failed attempt. We shall conquer the Grand River, not quite the adventure Teddy Roosevelt had on the River of Despair, but exciting enough for me.
