Dateline Branson. Silver Dollar City. Lost River Ride.
So cat, carebear and ev, the levparents and myself were enjoying the wetness of this tube ride at the strangest themepark on the planet that happens to be in the strangest tourist town on the planet. Seriously. That place is odd. I had heard of three of the "performers" that headline the over three thousand theaters there. And I though all three of them were dead. I mean like really really dead. So there we were on the raft ride and I wasn't getting very wet. Ant this made me happy because I had an 8 hour drive back to Waco. But I was more happy due to the fact that everyone else was getting really wet - because this ride, like every single thing ever in the history of ever, is a competition. And I was going to win. I am a winner. So, when we rounded the fabricated rocks toward another dip in the white waters, I reached out to turn the vessel to keep my in the "dry zone." The boat was heavier, the rapids were stronger and the fake rock was jaggedier than I predicted. I ripped a nice gash in my wrist. But I kept the raft on the right track and stayed dry. I win.
Did I fail to mention the last words of Laura Ingalls as she loaded us into the contraption?