The return of Swamp Guy and Gal

Ok, a long awaited post to, maybe, brighten your weekend.

If you recall, when last we left Swamp Guy and Swamp Gal, they had just decided on a vacation spot. . . . the beach. Well, I could relate to you all the sordid details of their trip and possibly of some of Swamp Guys harrowing escapes from certain doom, but I won't. Suffice it to say, the beach was not as dangerous as Swamp Guy had originally thought. Apparently, this section of the beach was mostly the Old Swamper's section. Not a lot of opportunity for Swamp Guy to ogle, and in turn be maimed by Swamp Gal for said ogling. There was an instance or two that Swamp Guy considered maiming his own eyes to prevent a future occurrence of seeing what no Swamp Man should ever see. . . an aged and wrinkled Grandmother in a String Bikini. . . . .retch - retch - gag -cough. . . . . shudder!

This is a tale from not too long after that event. This was another trip, but one for Swamp Guy alone. Well, alone with half a dozen or so other Swamp Guys. It was not a planned Mammoth hunt (where you need several people) or even one for Rhino (again, safety in numbers as well as lots of spears to kill the beast). No, this was a recreational adventure. A trip to the mountains to track and slay the terrifying beast of the water. . . . the Whitewater.

Well, you might think that you would need lots and lots of people and porters to carry all the myriad supplies someone would need to tame the Whitewater beast, but you really need surprisingly little. See. there is a whole village of guides with everything you need to tame the rapid beast. And yes, that is rapid and not rabid - who ever heard of water having Hydrophobia - that's just plain silly.

Anyway, Swamp Guy went to this village of, let's call them "Guides" from the clan called Adventure Outfitters and was suited up in the appropriate safety equipment for his own adventure. *quick aside* You wouldn't think that there would be much in the way of safety equipment in the first few years that Swamp Guy and Gal had crawled from the primordial ooze, but there was a lot. There was a "vest" that would float and make Swamp Guy buoyant if he fell out of the "Raft" he was to traverse the Whitewater Beast in. There was a surprisingly cheesy and light weight helmet for Swamp Guy to protect his noggin with. I think it was carved from wood. A very lightweight wood. Who knew the primitive were so safety conscious? *end of aside*

Swamp Guy was also given the weapon with which he would tame the wild and deadly Whitewater beast. There were actually 10 beasts in this particular stretch of the wild waters. They ranged in danger from a class 3 to 4 with one or two Class 5's thrown in for the fun of it. Swamp Guy would have to brave and survive all 10 without being maimed or otherwise permanently mangled by the large boulders and sharp rocks that were the Whitewater beast's favorite weapons. That and, as I secretly suspect, the collusion of one or more of the Guides from clan Adventure to slay any impertinent Swamp Guy intent on taming his or her section of the river.

Yes, I said Her. Swamp Guys "guide" was of the Swamp Gal sub-clan and was far and away better looking than any of the Swamp Gals (other than his own) that he saw at the beach. Who would have thunk it. The general consensus is that Beach = scantily clad Swamp Gals and therefore good, Mountains = inbred, toothless, tobacco chewing Swamp Gals who can burp the Star Spangled Banner and therefore bad. *myth buster* Francis Scott Key only wrote down the words to the Star Spangled Banner. It was actually an ancient chant used by the Prehistoric Swamp People to describe their home close to the volcano. He modernized it a little with the rockets and all, but it was still plagiarism.

Anyway, chiseling a photo of Gal Guide out of river stone was not really an option since it would be exceedingly heavy and Swamp Gal would most certainly NOT want to hang it up in the hut, not to mention the time and effort. So, what she looked like was lost to the annuls of time. Lets just say that Guide Gal was 5' 10" of lithely muscled limbs, long flowing locks of near golden with ample (yet proportionate) curves in all the right places and in defiance of gravity, tightly clad in a stretchy and thin fabric of unknown origin that did little to conceal what was actually beneath it. Especially when the water temperature was about 60 degrees. Her flotation vest pushed certain attributes UP into prominence and did not conceal other attributes at all. In hindsight, the vest probably wasn't really needed since she could have floated well enough without it, had she been so inclined.

To make a long story end before it gets any longer. Swamp Guy survived his adventure was able to ogle and then discuss with the other guys in the relative safety of their camp later on. All in all, it was a good trip.