Down the River

july242014Expecting a magical transformation from last time’s lessons, I almost dared the sun to do its worst this week (for a couple of hours on one day of this week, that is — let’s be honest here, I survive mostly indoors).

Even on her best temperature patrol, my wife couldn’t compete with 92° heat on a partially-cloudy day, and though I was grateful for a breeze, it did more resemble a preheated oven being opened to insert cookie dough. Except without the cookie dough. By the time we were shuttled to the river, the heat had long since thawed my two cool pack,s and my once-icy water bottle was tepid. The guides left us and my ankles touched the water — a half hour of blazing fogginess and choking on the inward sobs which questioned the validity of my hopeful experiment (SCIENCE!) was instantly reversed: I immediately began discerning a coming back to the very consciousness I’d begun to feel melting.

Now, of course, don’t try this at home.

IMAG1692-(1)I’m not bragging, let me specify — it’s not a great idea to put yourself knowingly in harm’s way. What if the sudden temperature change didn’t help, and I had to float down a river convict to its wild whitewater whims? I mean, I stopped driving cars this summer, so why would I chance committing my untrustworthy body to rushing water?

Thankfully I was so very correct on the temperature hypothesis, so I am letting myself dance a congratulatory jig which only I can literally see.

Like last time, when my bottom came into contact with the 50° water I perked right up with a lot of very instant and urgent things to say about the freezing of my cheeks. For the next two hours, and for what’s probably the first time since doing this last year, I enjoyed sitting in the sunlight.

 

 

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