Dave turned the big 2 6 today! He past the quarter of a century mark. We were able to celebrate all day together because it was Dave's Friday off. He woke up to one of his favorites, chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream on top. He got to open his presents from me: all biking gear (pictured below). Thought it was time he didn't freeze out there in the chillier months- long sleeved jersey, new shorts and leg warmers. (You can tell by the flash that the logos are even reflective!)
This afternoon we went and bought tubes with Allie and Jake and headed up Weber Canyon to float the Weber River. You start in Croydon and float to Taggart, two very small, small towns past Morgan. It was my very first time and Dave hadn't been on this part of the river so we relied on our trusty guide, Jake. Luckily, he had been quite a few times and he knew the route well. The water was higher, faster moving and chilly! We ended up going down two times because it normally takes over an hour to float down but since the water was moving so fast we got down in half the time. The first time down was fun. I got bumped off my tube at the beginning but after that I was able to stay on, even through some rough rapids and with a tube that was very lopsided. Well...then came the second round to go down and I wasn't quite feeling it and thought I should just wait but I went anyway. Bad idea. For some reason the water was a lot colder and this time I got the big tube. I had no control over the big tube. My arms could barely reach enough water to really paddle my way around which didn't go well when I was heading straight for a thick tree that had many branches hanging over and under the water. I tried my hardest to paddle and kept looking to Dave for anything he could do and he looked worried sick and helpless. I tried sticking my legs out to maybe somehow push out of it as I rammed into the mess of branches but the current was too strong. As I got thrown into and through the branches, the tube got stuck in some of the first branches behind me. Then, I had one of those split second decision moments. I had to decide to either stay where I was at and keep ramming into the branches or risk going under where I didn't know what could be under there. I chose the latter. Luckily, I didn't hit much. There was a thick branch right under the water but that was about it. Jake threw me his tube and went back for the other one. Dave was able to grab onto me and drag me over to the shore so we could regroup. I was a bit shaken up and Dave was almost pale from worry. I ended up with only scratches. Throughout the rest of the night Dave kept telling me that I'm not allowed to do anything fun again. The conversation on the drive home went something like this:
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