A Day on the River

It was a lazy summer and the planned kayak trip, with my Uncle Bill, cousin Anna, and two siblings was enough to fill me with excited anticipation of simply DOING something. I had been so bored I probably would have been happy with a trip to the kiddy park. I smiled to myself as the van rolled over the winding back roads of Pennsylvania. It had taken forever to actually get on the road, but that was no surprise. Uncle Bill always had to do lots of things before he ever actually got around to doing something.

We finally arrived at the Swatara Creek and proceeded to fill the inflatable kayaks before placing them in the water. We then set out on our excursion with merry spirits and cheerful smiles. I paddled along slowly; enjoying the beautiful day and the conversation with my cousin. I couldn’t help but laugh as I watched my siblings John and Rachel pass by in their inflatable kayak. They had the two-person kayak while the rest of us had managed to get the single ones by fighting for them with tooth and nail. Their double kayak had a tiny hole in it and was little by little losing its air. This caused it to be half sunk in the water where John was sitting. Rachel weighed hardly anything and so her end was way up in the water. To make it even worse the double kayak was supposed to have seats but Uncle Bill had forgotten to bring them. Therefore they were sitting even lower in their kayak. It looked so funny. While my cousin and I were chuckling over their situation, we continued to drift on down the creek.

As I lay back in my kayak, reveling in the fact that I had won the battle for it, I listened to the sounds around me. A bird tweeted noisily, a duck honked from father down the creek, and my cousin called off to the right announcing some turtles she had discovered. I lifted my head, warm from the sun, and saw a slight rapid area up ahead. The sight of it caused me to sit up all the way. I grabbed my paddle and gazed at the little white caps of water, trying to determine the best possible route to go through without getting grounded on rocks. Up ahead, Uncle Bill was the first to go. He glided right between two big rocks. I dragged my paddle, trying to go slowly, but the current grabbed my kayak and swept it along. I snagged for a moment on the right rock but as soon I shifted my weight, it lifted and flowed toward my waiting Uncle.

As soon as the others caught up we beached our kayaks and broke for lunch. We climbed up on the rocky bank. Down by the water the ground was made up of large boulders; perfect for sitting on. Farther up the bank the boulders gave way to earth and it was full of blue wildflowers and thick trees that provided a cool shade. I passed out the lunch, John prayed, and we dug in. Food always tastes ten times better when you’ve been working hard out in the fresh air. In the shade of the trees we all relaxed and enjoyed the peacefulness surrounding us. I glanced at John to find he had already downed his sandwich and was scrounging around for another one. He also held an empty banana peel in his hand which he seemed to be trying to decide what to do with. After a moment of deliberation he simply tossed it up on the bank above us. Anna’s mouth dropped a mile long. “You’re littering!” She screeched. John shrugged. “It will eventually disintegrate.” He explained himself and Anna seemed satisfied with his answer. We finished our meal, packed up and once again returned to the kayaks.

The rest of the afternoon flew by as we raced each other, climbed in and out of our kayaks to drag them over the low areas, fell on the rocks, talked and laughed. The time came for us to reluctantly end our afternoon, so we deflated the rafts (John and Rachel didn't have to do too much at this point ;) and then headed home. We all were muddy, wet, and tired and Uncle Bill had a rip on the seat of his pants. But we had had fun.

We talked about our afternoon for the first few minutes of the ride but before long we lapsed into silence as the motion of the van began to lull some of us to sleep. I was almost completely out when I heard Anna ask “WHAT are we doing?” I peeked open an eye and watched as Uncle Bill pulled the van into the GIANT parking lot and parked the car. “I need to pick up a few things” He said, before turning off the ignition and hopping out. I glanced at my cousin and siblings and raised an eyebrow. I only received clueless looks and shrugs in return. Uncle Bill smiled and waved a hand. “Come on, everyone out!” I clambered out, followed by the others. I looked at them and wondered if I looked as horrible as they did right now. With hair that was still wet and had pieces of mud in it, shoes/sandals that squeaked as we walked across the parking lot, cheeks that were sunburned and chapped and wearing clothes that had seen better days, we certainly didn’t look like we were trying to make a good impression on anybody. I was just praying that we didn’t run into anybody I knew.

As we headed into the store Uncle Bill looked back at his rip, craning his head to try and see it. “Is it really bad?” He asked. Anna nodded. Something needed to be done. Our family name was at stake. “Here! Wrap this around your waist!” I offered as I took off the sweater of Rachel’s that I had been wearing. It was too small for me anyway. Uncle Bill accepted it and proceeded to secure it around his waist by tying the two sleeves together. They barely made the knot. Anna and I burst out laughing. The small sweater hardly did much to cover the pants, and made my uncle look like he was trying to be Tarzan. The hole however was at least covered, and satisfied with that fact, Uncle Bill proceeded to lead our little party into the store, the sweater flapping crazily behind him.

We followed our Uncle around the store, as if he were the Pied Piper. We couldn’t contain our laughter every time we so much as glanced at our preacher uncle turned Tarzan. As we headed down the aisles, we made quite the racket with our squeaky sandals and Uncle Bill making comments about his nicely painted toenails. Upon this comment of his, we all stopped to examine his feet and discovered that each of his individual toenails were covered with mud, turning them a nice chunky brown color. Why do people pay such bug bucks to have their nails done when such a luxury is available to them at the creek!

I couldn’t imagine what other people thought of us as my Uncle Bill led us up and down the aisles in search of something. Finally he discovered what he had come, and dragged all of us in here with him, for.

The candy aisle.