10 Reasons to Hate Float Trips
By 
Introduction
IMAGINE IF YOU WILL: You're sitting in a canoe with your significant other or best friend, paddling down a calm stream with the greatest of ease. The air is pleasantly warm, the sun is beaming on your face and sparkling off the water, a cool breeze is blowing periodically. The white clouds are uniform in size and shape and are interspersed like giant cotton balls in a regular pattern across the sky for as far as you can see. Most importantly though: You're with good friends. It's one of those rare, perfect Saturdays.
Listen! You can hear the sound of your oar dipping into the water, and when you pull it out you can hear the water dripping from the oar back into the stream. Birds are chirping from the trees on the banks, and in the distance you can barely make out the constant drone of vehicles on a highway. Oh look! A deer! I wonder if he's.........
"DRINK MOTHERFUCKER! DRINK MOTHERFUCKER! DRINK!"
The serene scene is suddenly splintered by the mating call of a drunken douchebag. This had been going on all day, but you had temporarily forgotten about the douchebags' disrespectful behavior to concentrate on your sublime surroundings. Now, as you are jolted back to a reality of trashed troglodytes, you begin to get angry as you realize that their disrespect has been, is, and will continue to ruin your entire weekend.
I will preface this list by saying that I love float trips, but this one particular experience went horrifyingly awry. I think I would be hard-pressed to find someone who could have a great time amidst all the following conditions. Therefore, this is a list of circumstances that could happen to anyone anywhere, and collectively, have the potential to make you despise an otherwise satisfactory float trip. Furthermore, if the conditions are shocking enough, they could even make you loathe the hobby of floating altogether. So, if you ever go floating on the gorgeous Niangua River (near Bennett Springs State Park, MO) and stay at the Niangua River Oasis (NRO) Campground, be forewarned...
1
Drunken douchebags hogging all the campsites.
The Niangua River Oasis Campground is 60 acres of first-come-first-served riverside land. Because there are no designated campsites, you are forced to stake your claim on whatever parcel of land you can find. Unfortunately for us, we arrived late on a Friday night. We were driving around a veritable labyrinth of gravel roads, winding through forests and riverbeds, looking for our friends amidst throngs of liquored-up lushes, comprised of a scary combination of drunk shirtless rednecks, drunk angry frat boys, and drunk bikini-clad hoochies. Unable to locate our friends after an hour of driving around in the dark, we decided to find a spot of our own to camp for the night.
Easier said than done.
Between the huge diesel farm trucks, poorly parked cars, oversize tents, and beer-box-fueled bonfires, we could scarcely find a spot large enough to accommodate one tent, let alone the three tents and two cars we had with us. So, unable to find anything else, we hastily settled on a small patch of grass that was to be our Hell on Earth for one long night.
Easier said than done.
Between the huge diesel farm trucks, poorly parked cars, oversize tents, and beer-box-fueled bonfires, we could scarcely find a spot large enough to accommodate one tent, let alone the three tents and two cars we had with us. So, unable to find anything else, we hastily settled on a small patch of grass that was to be our Hell on Earth for one long night.
2
Drunken douchebags yelling all night.
We set up our tents and got situated. Looking up at the beautifully clear night sky, I noticed shooting star after shooting star in relatively quick succession, probably one every minute or every couple minutes. Later I would realize this was the annual Perseid meteor shower, and we were camping on the best weekend of the year to witness it. However, it was difficult to enjoy in the midst of this scene:
Hammered frat guys right next to us. Hammered frat guys right across the narrow gravel road from us. Hammered frat guys in Dolby Douche 5.1 surround sound. Sure, we were going to have some beers too, but we were also planning on waking up at a decent hour and saving some of our drinking powers until we actually got on the river. Not everyone else. They planned on drinking until 5 A.M. and yelling at each other around their bonfire. "DRINK MOTHERFUCKER! DRINK!"
Later, as I lay in my tent unable to sleep, I imagined them dancing around the bonfire clad in loincloths crudely fashioned from broken down beer boxes, faces painted with mud, beer bongs in hand like flaccid spears, whooping it up to the sound of tribal drums like some sort of tumultuous blowout scene from "Animal House" meets "Lord of the Flies."
(**NOTE: Some of my best friends were in fraternities, so I am in no way attempting to disparage fraternities or their members in general. However, these were the type of disrespectful guys who give the whole fraternity system a bad name.)
Hammered frat guys right next to us. Hammered frat guys right across the narrow gravel road from us. Hammered frat guys in Dolby Douche 5.1 surround sound. Sure, we were going to have some beers too, but we were also planning on waking up at a decent hour and saving some of our drinking powers until we actually got on the river. Not everyone else. They planned on drinking until 5 A.M. and yelling at each other around their bonfire. "DRINK MOTHERFUCKER! DRINK!"
Later, as I lay in my tent unable to sleep, I imagined them dancing around the bonfire clad in loincloths crudely fashioned from broken down beer boxes, faces painted with mud, beer bongs in hand like flaccid spears, whooping it up to the sound of tribal drums like some sort of tumultuous blowout scene from "Animal House" meets "Lord of the Flies."
(**NOTE: Some of my best friends were in fraternities, so I am in no way attempting to disparage fraternities or their members in general. However, these were the type of disrespectful guys who give the whole fraternity system a bad name.)
3
Drunken douchebags starting fights all night.
When Mr. Alcohol meets up with Mr. Superabundance-of-testosterone, Mr. Lack-of-self-respect and his cousin Mr. Lack-of-respect-for-others, bad things tend to happen. This was the case that night, when much of the conversation turned to "kicking someone's ass" and "fucking someone up." It made us all a little uncomfortable to be in such close proximity to an army of beer-bonging Betas, so when the camp security would periodically pass through we were temporarily relieved, though they didn't really do much but give out ineffective warnings that were quickly forgotten about.
At one point the douchebags were bumping up against my friend's new car, so he yelled at them from his tent. Luckily for us they moved away and forgot about it, as they were just looking for a fight and we didn't want to be the ones to give it to them.
One douche seemed to be a particularly prolific troublemaker. His friends had to keep calming him down, but they also consulted him on other matters, like whether they should fuck so-and-so up. The douche's name was Albert. I know because I heard it one billion times that night. "Albert." "Albert!" "Albert?" He must have been the ringleader or head douche or something.
At one point the douchebags were bumping up against my friend's new car, so he yelled at them from his tent. Luckily for us they moved away and forgot about it, as they were just looking for a fight and we didn't want to be the ones to give it to them.
One douche seemed to be a particularly prolific troublemaker. His friends had to keep calming him down, but they also consulted him on other matters, like whether they should fuck so-and-so up. The douche's name was Albert. I know because I heard it one billion times that night. "Albert." "Albert!" "Albert?" He must have been the ringleader or head douche or something.
4
Drunken douchebags imitating Borat all night.
"It's a-niiiiiiice!" "It's a-niiiiiiice!" "It's a-niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice!"
Holy shit, shut your stupid fucking douchebag mouths! The Borat thing has been done to death, and even though it's funny in moderation, I heard it every ten seconds that night. If I had to drink every time I heard "It's a-niiiiiiice!" that night, I would have died of alcohol poisoning right there in the tent.
Holy shit, shut your stupid fucking douchebag mouths! The Borat thing has been done to death, and even though it's funny in moderation, I heard it every ten seconds that night. If I had to drink every time I heard "It's a-niiiiiiice!" that night, I would have died of alcohol poisoning right there in the tent.
5
Drunken douchebags pissing within earshot of my tent all night.
This was ridiculous. I know the port-a-pisser was a whopping 50 yards away, but the forest was about two yards away. I know there was a tree near my tent, but if I wanted to hear your fucking horse piss ten feet from my head, I would go set up my tent in the middle of the elephant enclosure at the zoo. Seriously, have a little courtesy and walk into the woods.
6
Drunken douchebags vomiting by my tent all night.
Idiots. Idiots. Idiots. Apparently the douches forgot the foremost third of the saying "Eat, drink and be merry," because they were hurling just-consumed beer like Linda Blair and pea soup all night. I was in my tent gagging to the sounds of amateurs who didn't yet know their limits or who didn't care if they exceeded them. And then just when I was drifting off to sleep again at 3, 4, or 5 A.M., the floodgates would open and another douche would empty his gullet all over the ground. At least the vomiting stopped them from yelling, albeit briefly.
7
Drunken douchebags vomiting by my tent in the morning.
Actually, the best alarm clock EVER. If you ever have trouble getting out of bed in the morning because you sleep through your alarm, just pay a douchebag to come get drunk while you sleep, then have him vomit on cue at your desired wakeup time somewhere near you. Trust me, you will be up and ready to get out of that immediate area before he can even rinse the bile out of his mouth.
These guys were probably ten yards away, but somehow being inside a tent amplifies sounds and makes it seem as though everything is right outside. Nothing like being kept up until 5 A.M. and then being rudely awakened three hours later by the same assholes disgustingly paying the price for the fun they had earlier.
Luckily by getting up early, we were able to find our friends and move all of our stuff to their campsite, which was far more peaceful and farther away from Douchetown.
These guys were probably ten yards away, but somehow being inside a tent amplifies sounds and makes it seem as though everything is right outside. Nothing like being kept up until 5 A.M. and then being rudely awakened three hours later by the same assholes disgustingly paying the price for the fun they had earlier.
Luckily by getting up early, we were able to find our friends and move all of our stuff to their campsite, which was far more peaceful and farther away from Douchetown.
8
Drunken douchebags squirting us with squirt guns.
None of us got much sleep, so needless to say, once we got on the river we were a little cranky with anyone we didn't know. We tried to stay away from the douches, who mostly rented gigantic rafts as they were too drunk--again...and already--to properly steer a canoe. However, we inevitably passed each other several times, reliving the previous night each time, only this time they must have figured we wanted in on the antics.
And of course, the half-cocked halfwits all had big suction tube water guns to fuel our fury. You know the ones: you put the end in the water, draw back the handle to suck water into the tube, aim, and push the handle forward, forcing the water out the front of the gun. Apparently we looked either too hot or too dry, so the douches took it upon themselves to remedy that.
Now, I get pretty childish when given a squirt gun, but I've never really had the unfortunate combination of too many balls and too few brains to squirt strangers directly in the face with a large, forceful stream of water. This, to our dismay, is what they did as we passed them or they passed us, and in doing so they dampened not only our skin, but our spirits as well.
And of course, the half-cocked halfwits all had big suction tube water guns to fuel our fury. You know the ones: you put the end in the water, draw back the handle to suck water into the tube, aim, and push the handle forward, forcing the water out the front of the gun. Apparently we looked either too hot or too dry, so the douches took it upon themselves to remedy that.
Now, I get pretty childish when given a squirt gun, but I've never really had the unfortunate combination of too many balls and too few brains to squirt strangers directly in the face with a large, forceful stream of water. This, to our dismay, is what they did as we passed them or they passed us, and in doing so they dampened not only our skin, but our spirits as well.
9
Drunken douchebags noisily requesting for my girlfriend to "show us them titties" all day.
"Hey! Girl in the pink! Hey pink girl! Show us them titties! Big ol' titties! Yeaaahhh!"
Again, if I had to drink for every time I heard something like this, I would've been dead by noon. As the day passed, the douches' rafts slowly but surely turned into a slurry of appalling cat calls and blue balls.
I often wondered to myself, "Am I invisible to them? Does it appear that my girlfriend is just sitting in the front of the canoe steering it by herself?" I thought, "Wow, I'm right here. They have no shame."
But this is why I had an attractive girl with me in my canoe and they just had a bunch of other douchebags. So as they repeatedly held out their offerings of cheap plastic beads, I would often stand up and threaten to show them my junk. That shut them up.
Again, if I had to drink for every time I heard something like this, I would've been dead by noon. As the day passed, the douches' rafts slowly but surely turned into a slurry of appalling cat calls and blue balls.
I often wondered to myself, "Am I invisible to them? Does it appear that my girlfriend is just sitting in the front of the canoe steering it by herself?" I thought, "Wow, I'm right here. They have no shame."
But this is why I had an attractive girl with me in my canoe and they just had a bunch of other douchebags. So as they repeatedly held out their offerings of cheap plastic beads, I would often stand up and threaten to show them my junk. That shut them up.
10
Drunken douchebags littering in the river all day.
This was the kicker for me. I despise littering. Especially when the canoe/raft outfitter provides you with two bright red mesh bags in which to deposit your trash. I felt like a mom that day, chasing her 1,000 two-year-old sons around the house and picking up after them. Only instead of wooden letter blocks and sippy cups, we were picking up Jell-o shot cups and beer cans.
Motherfuckers. Just put it in the bag. It's not hard. At one point, two douches tipped their canoe over and their entire cooler spilled out into the river. In a display of unmitigated contempt for Nature, douchebag #1 ripped the top off the plastic cooler and hurled it like a Frisbee into the forest as the cooler dispersed empty beer cans into the water around him and douchebag #2 laughed. We collected what litter of theirs we could, including a floating empty Jager bottle.
For all you douchebags out there who like to litter in the river during float trips: If you're going to let your Jager bottle float down the river for me to pick up, at least leave me one or two fucking shots for my trouble.
Motherfuckers. Just put it in the bag. It's not hard. At one point, two douches tipped their canoe over and their entire cooler spilled out into the river. In a display of unmitigated contempt for Nature, douchebag #1 ripped the top off the plastic cooler and hurled it like a Frisbee into the forest as the cooler dispersed empty beer cans into the water around him and douchebag #2 laughed. We collected what litter of theirs we could, including a floating empty Jager bottle.
For all you douchebags out there who like to litter in the river during float trips: If you're going to let your Jager bottle float down the river for me to pick up, at least leave me one or two fucking shots for my trouble.
I feel your pain six, been there, done that. Went on a whitewater trip on the Kern River in CA, two rafts full of L.A. cops, and one full of L.A. firemen joined three rafts of sane (sorta) people. I was terrified the entire trip; especially when one of the cops said, at 2:00 in the morning, "Let's go shoot shit!" And they did. I told the guide that if I heard the phrase, "make im squeal, Billy!" I was out of there, even if I had to walk home.
Oh.
BAD experience.
I'm mad too.
we NEVER float on a holiday.
RARELY on a Saturday.
Sundays are better.
October fall day during the week...you will be healed.
BAD experience.
I'm mad too.
we NEVER float on a holiday.
RARELY on a Saturday.
Sundays are better.
October fall day during the week...you will be healed.
Sounds like the annual May 24 weekend around here. One big buzzon with lots of drunken assholes :)
Are you sure those weren't Raant's friends??
Naw, his friends can probably hold their booze and not puke.
And he has way more couth that that.
KB has the right idea; timing is key. I like the Jack's Fork river best.
Naw, his friends can probably hold their booze and not puke.
And he has way more couth that that.
KB has the right idea; timing is key. I like the Jack's Fork river best.
I was there for all of it and I must say when you put things in this perspective, it is now funny to me. LOL!! At the time I wanted to kill everyone, but now I look at them as what they are named..........Douchebags!!! Nice work babe!
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