I have a hiking buddy about 10 years older than myself. We talk of hiking the AT, the Great Wall and other adventures but she won't sleep on the ground and she hates foreign cuisine. Hmmmm. Anyway, her one daughter recognizes that, together, we make a daring team. She has gone so far as to warn her mother to remember what happened to Thelma & Louise. So, today we got out my canoe, my 16 y.o. (muscle power) and our life jackets and went down to the Rio Grande. Ricky and she have never been in a canoe before but Ricky has been rafting. I put her in the middle with Rick up front and me at the steering position in back. We immediately got taken by a very strong current and my two neophytes got paddles and balance all wrong. We went into the river. My friend got panicky and caught under the canoe; Ricky panicked and pulled the canoe down on her as hard as I was pushing up; the life jackets worked well. I got my friend loose but lost my paddle and Rick, his glasses. Righting the canoe, I pushed my friend over the gunwales and guided us to a sandbar where we could empty most of the water out and get everyone back in. Ricky, meanwhile, had rescued the other two paddles and the water bottles as well as my friend's hat. Back in we climbed and this time I put Rick in the rear, my friend up front and me in the middle. I could still steer until Rick got a feel for reading the water and steering by himself. My friend needed to stretch her legs and back despite the instability of being in a canoe. Rick and I counterbalanced her movements and we swept on downstream. I was sure my watch had stopped but, no, the second hand was still going around. The whole incident only took about 10 or 15 minutes. Then we continued our 15 mile trip down to a pre-arranged pick-up site. Suddenly my cell rang and we knew that our last worries were over - the ziplock bag and the pouch in my lifevest had done their jobs. I think the rest of the trip went very well aside from the sand in the bottom of the boat that abraded my toes to new, pink flesh and the sodden feel of denim as I nestled in my own little puddle. Oh, and my knees were shot by the end of the 3 1/2 hr. adventure. I don't think I'll be buying any kayaks anytime soon. My friend's husband laughed and accused us of being reincarnations of Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett. Naw. I'll stick with Thelma & Louise. Oh, and I pointed out to Ricky that he'll have *lots* of fun stories to tell his kids in the future. What a bonus!