On the July 4th weekend, we went on a float trip down the Guadalupe. It was rainy near Austin that day and somewhat cold. When we weren't shivering, we enjoyed the rapids. Still, it was fun being with friends on a pretty nice river. Many people must have thought so: there were a lot of people on the river that day, most of them rafting.
And lots of goings on, apparently. I couldn't see them because I wasn't wearing my glasses. Yet, the catalogue of things that happened (as catalogued by friends who seemed to relish the telling even as they professed to be disgusted) included everything from the moronic to the kinky -- a drunken old man floating amidst floatsam, lesbian lovemaking, a guy forcing himself on a passed-out girlfriend, a threesome going at it, a trio of men exposing themselves and dozens of marijuana addicts inhaling. All this, according to my friends, happened on the Guadalupe River on Independence day, 1998.
As I said, I'm myopic. For all I know, the stories were embellished and nothing really happened.
