Tubing on the New River

We start the trip with a good home cooked meal from THE restaurant in town called the Pines.  Evidently the Pines likes to move around because they have physically changed locations six times in the past few years.  Regardless of the location, the food and service are always excellent.  Perry and Shane are almost too busy eating their gigantic slices of homemade coconut pie for a photo.

On the way out, I spot this business card.  I read it, re-read it, have Mark read it, re-read it again and still have no idea what this person’s job is.

Mark is the dog whisperer…

…and the goat conductor.

Rocketman’s exhaust stoppers are too small for his new pipes but they serve their purpose.

It’s time to fill up the truck with inner tubes.

How did the photo bomber’s shirt change color so fast?

Don’t ask why Jason and Perry are always doing something too intimate in photos.

We’re in the chase vehicle which is a good thing considering two tubes flew out the back of the truck.  In an effort to reclaim one tube, the window seal is a temporary casualty.

Who wants to play throw the inner tube around Perry’s neck?

I never thought I would see a purpose built trailer for hauling inflated inner tubes.

Fran took a break from the books for this occasion.

Brotherly love with Janel

It must be a windy day!

This is the “adult” part of the New River Tubing crowd although I wonder what defines an “adult.”  This group uses the term loosely.

Janel, Shane, Fran, Perry, Mark, Chad, me, Jason

Who forgot to wear their white shirt today?

Real brotherly love is when you share pulling the cooler together.

We see some high dollar specialty floats with canoe paddles.

Captain Morgan saves the day.

There is a lot of butt checking going as we glide over the rocks.  At some places, the water is three inches deep so Perry stands up and walks along the river.

We exchange cameras to take pics and then my camera gets stranded on J’s inner tube.

Janel is living the high life on a big raised tube.

Fran is extending her hand so that I can get connected to the group on the rope.

The fellas are lounging.

This is another definition of the word “adult.”  Notice the soft focus (AKA condensation on the lens) on my swamp butt.

Towels are hard to come by for drying off.

The store is home to Fran’s man with the confederate flag doooo rag.

Fortunately the tubes are secured better on the return trip.

As with dual sport rides, we have a few articles of clothing that are sacrificed.  Ironically both of them happened to be mine.  Go figure.

It was all worth it though for a great day of another new activity – tubing on the New River!