My friends and I armed ourselves with sunscreen, swimsuits and a 16-hour playlist. We were going on a float trip.
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I was excited to get on the river. We drove the two hours to Bourbon, Missouri, and loaded into the cabin on Friday evening.
In an isolated cabin in the woods, was it kind of terrifying when my friends insisted on watching a serial killer slasher? Yes, for sure. But the stars were beautiful. It felt like being at a summer camp, but with hot showers. I was all for it.
On Saturday morning, we woke up bright and early. One of my buddies hovered over the stove and scrambled a dozen eggs for us to share. We had to get our energy up for the big day ahead of us!
Have you ever tried to pack for a float trip with seven other people? It’s hectic. We fluttered around the cabin, pulling out coolers and filling them with ice packs and sandwiches and bottled water. We had several enemies ahead of us: the heat, the hunger, the hangover from the night before. In a frenzied state, we slathered on sunscreen, donned hats and headed out to the Meramec River.
Eight people and three coolers in a raft — what could go wrong? Well, immediately, we took two hits. Literally. My friend hit me in the head with an oar, and then we got tangled in a tree. The tree jerked us in the current and spun us around, and one of our oars was lost to the river, never to be seen again.
No matter! We had three remaining oars, a huge raft and five more hours on this trip. We would make the most of it.
Never in my life have I seen so many drunk people in such a harrowing situation. As we floated down the river, the other river-floaters around us seemed to get drunker and drunker — and so did my friends and I, if we’re being completely honest. The river was high and fast, and we had limited control of our raft with our three oars. We steered around the other floaters and boaters as best we could, but we inevitably collided.
“Sorry sorry sorry sorry,” I called from the raft as we bounced and bounded over the waves toward an apprehensive kayaker. Terrifying.
Growing tired of all the traffic on the river, we decided to pull off onto the shore to let a few of the other rafts pass us. It was around now that I discovered the best defense to a float trip: a good mood. We were hours in, getting sunburnt and growing tired and hungry. It would’ve been easy to become snappish, but my friends are relaxed people. They remained pleasantly upbeat, and as I doggy-paddled across the river, I was convinced that this was the best vacation ever.
Fast forward another two hours, and this mood was dampened a little bit. We hoped we were reaching the end, but every corner we turned revealed miles of smooth blue river. Bluffs stretched above us, and green summer leaves dappled the afternoon sunlight across our skin.
It was beautiful, but we were tired. When we finally ended our float trip — grimy with river water, gritty with sunscreen and grumpy with fatigue — we were all too happy to head back to the cabin.
All of that being said, I still highly recommend float trips. I definitely recommend taking little trips with friends. As we drove home, we talked about how easy it is to get overwhelmed by the day-to-day. You have to get out of your routine every now and then and try something new. My friends and I are always looking for a new adventure, and we got a pretty good one this weekend.
Plus, it makes for some great stories. We’ll always remember The Lost Oar of 2024 — or, at least, our sunburns certainly won’t let us forget anytime soon.
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