Going Under

We were racing, in canoes, on the Wekiva river. Lilly pads on either side, walled by palm and pine trees with the occasional oak. The river was crowed with other canoers and kayakers, many of whom didn't know what they were doing; bottle-necking. It was my eldest sister and her boyfriend against my Twin and me. Traditionally, in two-person canoeing, both provide the power but the back does the steering. That was me, and my sister's boyfriend.

They were beating us by a canoe length, but hesitated and argued over how to proceed through a cluster-fuck of teens, giggling and working against each other's efforts until their canoe blocked the entire passage. That and a fallen tree. Without communicating, Twin and I both figured we could go under it, and as the steering partner, I shouted it; "Going Under!"

She was ahead of me, already pulling her paddle in and leaning back in appropriate limbo that I quickly followed. We sailed right beneath the tree, only to hear those teens start screaming, "it shit on me! That bird shit on me!" Our competitor's still trying to find a way through, and we paddled on in our canoe. We didn't even have to try winning after that, which was good, because we had a hard time not laughing.

- M.E.