I’m still trying to get to know T’s family. You know, learn about their traditions, learn their recipes, remember all their names–that kinda thing. I think I’m onto something with their summertime traditions. In T’s family, summer isn’t summer unless one of the middle generation attempts–all in good fun, of course–to drown one of the youngest generation. Last year, it was Tom who drove the boat all over the lake like a mad man, all of us cheering and egging him on, Sara capturing it all on video, while he tried to toss various nieces and nephews–even T & me–off the SeaHawk 200–by cornering a high rates of speed and making the riders jump the boat wake. All who rode clung desperately to the tube, bouncing and flailing in the boat’s wake, only to be unceremoniously tossed, end over end, into the lake. Boat-side onlookers laughed and cheered, “Did you SEE that?!?” we’d exclaim.
This year, in the spirit of this hallowed tradition, we took the nieces and nephews tubing on the Saint Vrain River in Lyons. The day was hot and the water refreshing. The tubes occasionally exploded and we missed the Seahawk 200. Only cousin Dusty approached a drowning of any sort (according to Tim T). Luke did a spectacular tube flip, loosing and then finding his hat, which T was supposed to be videoing, but apparently was just watching on the camera screen, without hitting the record button. Use your imagination.
All and all, the tubers enjoyed several fun runs through the park, everyone had a nice lunch and good “fellowship” (T’s family loves that word). Even Fischer had fun–so many sticks, so little time. Here’s some footage of the extreme tubing on the Saint Vrain. Well. Not exactly extreme.
No kids were harmed in the making of these videos.
Not irrevocably, anyway.