Tubing, Texas-Style

Houston is too fucking hot. I like the warm weather and all, but this is utterly ridiculous. Walking back to my car from the gym today, observing the various smokers outside, I was reminded that Houston used to carry the title of the fattest city in America. I can't even fathom experiencing this heat with an extra hundred pounds or two on my frame.

Of course this is not to say that I'd prefer it the other way, all bundled up in my winter wear trying endlessly to regain feeling in my fingertips. In fact, I really wouldn't mind the weather so much if I wasn't trying to be at my most presentable most of the time I go out.

Today, for example, I ventured to a nearby medical center in hopes of dropping off a resume. The whole trip, from home to medical center to gym, took no more than 30 minutes, 15 of which were spent in the air conditioned car, and by the time I stepped out of the cool and in to the gym's parking garage, I had sweat stains under both arms and all the way down my back, in addition to the unbecoming facial sheen and frizzy hair I've come to accept.

This past weekend our answer to the oppressive heat was a tubing trip outside of Austin. There are few things in this world I enjoy more than a good tubing trip and this one was no exception, despite falling short of the almost unattainable standard of awesome-ness that is tubing the James River in Virginia.

The natural river we had originally intended to float was closed due to high water so we headed instead to a nearby, man-made alternative that was ridiculously crowded due to, I'm sure, the awesome weather and fact that it was the only option that day. Unlike the pastoral scenery you experience on your way down the James though, this lazy river snaked through the less picturesque backyards of condominium complexes and public picnic spots.

It did, however, include a couple of shoots and a waterfall which added quite a bit of the right kind of excitement at the right point in the ride--two to three hours/four to five beers in. The James, on the other hand, has a couple of spots of rapids along the way, but they often succeed more in bruising your behind than providing any sort of momentary thrill.

The thrill was greater here for some than others, of course, as this river featured police officers throughout and, at one spot, a check point set up to arrest underage drinkers and those deemed drunk in public. Which of course we all were, since said check point was toward the latter half of the river. The police, formerly ignored upstream, were beset by boos and taunts as they arrested a slew of unsuspecting tubers. I can only begin to imagine how it feels to experience the stark contrast of tubing bliss and police detainment within minutes of one another.

But all in all the experience was stellar. Sure the river was swamped with people, but that just meant I got to talk to more strangers. Yeah I missed the natural aspects of tubing on the James, but I liked being able to stand without worrying too much about what was beneath me, or grab on to a dock to stop and drink an extra beer or two while still in the water.

Of course some things are always the same. In the James you're excited to see cows on the river banks, and even more entertained when you catch them cooling off in the water alongside you. Until you realize what else they must be doing in the water. And here it was no different, if, that is, you assume one cow's patties equals the piss of a thousand.