I was paddling at Effluents, er uh, Conflence, the other day and had a great time. I had forgotten my nose plugs ["park, plug every orifice, and play"] but decided to let it rip anyway; I'd just be sure not to go over.
As I was playing around on the fourth drop, throwing a mean action-packed high-speed ferry to the amazement of all, I flipped. That's right, upside down in the turbulent turbid waters of, gak, Confluence.
Water pounded into my nasal cavities, I knew it would be ugly. As I tried to concentrate on my set-up - what was it Don said "lean forward, hands up and out of the water, twist the wrists" I couldn't remember - the water was still gushing into my head, I was out of control, should I wet exit and risk bumping into empty motor oil containers and getting hit by Taco Bell cups, or should I re-focus and tough it out.
My mind was spinning, it was like one of those really bad home videos posing as extreme kayak films, water pounding me, washing the lint out of my brain, it was horrible. Arrrrggghhhh. Then the water stopped pounding into my head. It just stopped. Just like that. Total calm. I collected myself rolled up and continued paddling. I even rolled a couple more times just for fun. It seemed I had developed an ability through all that mayhem to keep water out of my nose. It just stopped coming in. I had the gift. Incredible.
So, I was surfing the bottom drop and feeling very groovy when my buddy Mick paddled over and said "Hey man, this is weird, but I am pretty sure there is a dead rat stuck in you nose." No kidding. There was a dead rat right up my nose. That poor deceased brown Norway rat must have been out for a swim in the lovely skank and was sucked into my nose where he suffocated in the dark. I thought about for a while. That little furball gave his life so that I might paddle again. Thanks little ratty; I hope you're swimming in rat heaven. A moment of silence please. God bless confluence and all who paddle there whether man, woman, or rodent. Amen.
I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I'm not a spoon.