Guadalupe Canuding, summer '93

Not waiting for the actual day, Kevin asked the first foolish question: "So, I guess we're cancelling if it rains?"

Laughing aside that comment, we met at 7 AM bright and early Saturday. After numerous attempts to rouse Chris Miller from his office, we finally succeeded in getting the keys to SpacShip 5000 and Jay, Cormac, Eva, and Ram went to get the keg. On the way back from the grad house after getting ice, Jay's hurried left turn sent the carefully packed ice all over the back of SpacShip. Cormac faithfully scooped up most of it and re-iced the keg.

Finally, after losing Maggie at the last minute (who showed up on time and then changed her mind about going) and dragging Chris forcibly out of his office, we were on our way. The Venoids, Kevin, Brian, Ed, & Deron, made an attempt to leave early but after dragging the tail pipe on the ground went hunting for another car. After filling one back seat in Thomas's car and both in Eva's, they were off with Carolyn, Mike, & Cormac stuffed in between. Where would the other two people have gone? The main party crew left last with Ervan driving Jay, Steph, Erika, Tom, Chris, Mark, and Ram in SpacShip. We were off.

On the way, Chris Miller slept peacefully. Steph placed Ren and Stimpy under his arms like teddy bears. Jay and Tom manned the keg until the washer in the tap broke, leaving us beerless. This emergency forced an unscheduled stop at K-mart to get a new washer and lubricant for the tap. The quick fix was enough, and beer once again flowed. At lunchtime, we stopped at McDonalds and took our meals back to the van. Chris had awakened at this time and announced, "Okay, I'm ready to party!", in no small part due to the large number of teenage women, dressed for tubing, packed in line with us.

We got the the rental place, unpacked our gear, packed it up in the canoe trailer with the canoes and piled into a very uncomfortable metal-floor van with only intertubes as seats. We broiled for 10 minutes before finally getting on the road and getting a breeze blowing through the back of the van. When we arrived at the drop off point, we unloaded and clumsily dragged canoes and gear down a very steep hill to the river. We carefully avoided a rotting armadillo, which someone pointed out must have been incredibly stupid to be killed on a paved road where there was NO traffic.

After all the canoes were put into the water, we were under way. Keg canoe was very busy, and served all of us well. The slow pace and heavy drinking took its toll though. Only 5 miles were covered the first afternoon, and the keg was gone by 6 PM. The few rapids encountered were swift, and a couple canoes tipped. This, no doubt, explained the pair of people seen suspiciously bobbing in the water. Steph was thrown on top of a rock, and most everyone got pretty wet at one point or another. It must have been seasickness from the rapids that caused one person to feed the fish (and then quickly return to intimacy, yuck!). Chris and Mike manned the canoe-ship Enterprise as Lt. Sulu and Capt. Kirk and explored the river where no canoe had gone before.

Despite the expected canoe trip rain, the sun beat gloriously down all day. Mark was even concerned enough to ask to his canoe partner "Aren't you worried about getting a sunburn on delicate parts?" who replied "I'd rather not put sunscreen on my penis". Unfazed by that, the rejoinder was "Your crack needs some though, it's burning".

We vetoed the first campsite because of a very OBVIOUS private property keep out sign that someone was still sober enough to read. Ervan scouted ahead and found us a better site along the bank where we set up tents. Drunk and hungry, we built campfires and grilled chicken, steak and cans of pork and beans (Thomas's Favorite). Later, two people disappeared, with one emerging an hour later screaming in anger that the other hadn't brought a condom, and all she wanted to do was get laid, but couldn't. Chris reportedly passed out and fell asleep. Many hung around the campfire talking, and looking at stars and seeing the Milky Way Galaxy.

Later at night, splashing was heard in the river, and sparse reports of a semi-orgy were heard. Unknown who the participants were. One lucky guy was heard asking one unlucky one in a whisper if he had a condom.

In the morning, after Cormac's bragging of having been "totally eaten last night", the tired bunch set out to complete the remaining 80% of our route. The day was just as clear and beautiful as the one before and the swift pace spread everyone apart along the river. We passed Guadalupe state park and later on found a rope swing. Jay, Carolyn, Thomas, Steph, Tom and Erika all partook and took turns doing tricks. Jay's backdive attempt was a painful backflop, and his tarzan yell left much to be desired. He started singing the George of the Jungle theme, but stopped when Carolyn pointed out that the lyrics included, "Watch out for that tree!!!" *WHAM*

Mark, starting to wear a little thin asked " Is this where the Swedish bikini sky diving team comes in?" The group organizer being ready for everything answered "No, that's in the $50 option package."

Back on course, after a promotion for Lt. Sulu to command his own canoe, there were more rapids, more slow regions, and a brief stop for lunch near a very low bridge. The final 3 miles to the take out point were filled with rocks and rapids, and by that time much of the group was pretty tired. We took the canoes up the hill, and Jay, trying to impersonate He-man tried taking a canoe by himself above his head. It didn't work. Chris and Thomas came to the rescue. It looked for a moment as if we would have to pay for a paddle when Brian confessed "I think a lost a paddle". After being asked "Are you sure?" he replied "Well, there was this tree, and then I was through it, and I don't know what happened." We happily reported to the rental agency that all of the paddles were on their way. Our bodies fared well too. There were no 'personal' sunburns. Chris happily reported "My hoot's always been tan".

We loaded all our stuff into the cars and met at Oma's Haus, a german restaurant. We had various schnitzels and other sausages and german specialties including ogling the "mega-Aryan-robo-babe" waitress before getting back in the cars and driving the long haul down I-10 back to Rice. There we discovered we had lost the tap to the keg somewhere along the line, but decided not to go back for it.

Those who could still keep their eyes open after showering and unpacking at home went over to SpacHouse and watched Ren and Stimpy cartoons and Kurt Russel in "Big Trouble in Little China" on laserdisc. Then...sleeeeeeeeep.