Wherein Lauren goes adventuring

Despite a number of setbacks, and fears of massive cancellation fees, we made it out of the city yesterday to the fair hamlet of Shubenacadie. Saturday's bout of rain had subsided and the sun was shining. Yes, it was a good day.

We made it to the Tidal Bore Rafting Park at around 11:00, and were shuffled into a line-up with about 50-60 other people to receive a lifejacket and, if we wanted one, a raincoat. Seeing as we were going on the water and were going to get soaked anyways, the raincoat seemed like a silly idea... it certainly wasn't going to help you if you got thrown in.

Lifejackets secured, we waited to be taken down to the water. We were led down an almost rickety set of stairs to an oozing mud-flat that we had to cross to get into our boat that looked like it could fit about ten people. Our tour-guide loaded us up and set out across the river rather quickly, pointing out eagles' nests and rock formations. At one point, the biggest horse-fly I've seen in my life landed on the nose of the boat. The thing looked like it was the size of a quarter, and was clinging onto the boat, probably in hopes that it could find some lunch.

In an effort to shake the bastard off, the tour guide flipped into warp speed and nearly threw all of us off (at this point I lost my beloved Van Halen hat). You don't exactly sit down on these boats, but perch on the side, gripping a piece of rope that is behind you for dear life. Through a mix of balance and leg-support you hang on... the rope really didn't help much.

After we voyaged a bit further down the river, the guide dropped us off at a sandbar to wait for the bore to come in. There, my group and I ran around, displaying actions that can be accurately described as frolicking. At one point I got in the water and tried to swim against the current, only to get sucked about 50 feet down the river. Nature won... this time...

When waves became visible in the distance, we were ushered back into the boat and proceeded to go head on into the oncoming bore. A big wave about five feet high was coming at us and we smacked into it with such force that my shoes, which I had been hanging onto for dear life, went flying. We salvaged one, but the other was lost to the water.

After the initial bore, about an hour's worth of crashing, insane waves followed. We would bring the boat up to where the waves started, gun 'er up, and in short bursts jump over wave after wave after wave. The boat was always full of water and the next wave was always ready to slap you in the face. This, friends, is my idea of fun. It was exhilarating! My knuckles were white from hanging onto the stupid rope, and once I got thrown into the centre of the boat, crashing into various knees and feet.

The peak of the trip came when we neared a rock formation that sent waves crashing at us from all directions in a froth of white-water. Not only would they get you from the front, but water would be spraying in from all sides. Somehow, we held on. I think that's a point for us... take that, Nature!

After the waves subsided, we jumped off the boat and went for a swim (AKA getting pulled around by the current). Without even noticing, we were sucked about 100 feet down the river. Luckily, the boat followed.

As a end to our trip, we were taken to a spot on the shore that formed a natural pool. All along the sides of it was slippery mud, perfect for sliding. Fun, but gross; at one point my leg was swallowed up by about three feet of especially disgusting ooze.

Dirty and tired, we were sent back to the dock. Shoeless (why do I always end up losing ONE shoe?), I moaned and griped as I walked back to the lodge on the gravel walk-way, which left awesome dents on my already abused feet.

There, we washed the mud out of our hair and went home. I fear I might now have some kind of taste for "extreme" sports. That's right... SPORTS. EXTREME ONES! I am an ADRENALINE JUNKIE. I might have to look into surfing, or something. Or maybe just go tidal bore rafting again next summer. Yes, that's the ticket.