dry, at least.
Billy Joe and Jim Bob tried to copy this move, but with both hands raised in the air, like thrill seekers on a roller coaster. That wasn’t a good idea. Their boat rolled to port, and without paddles, there wasn’t much they could do to stop it. In a moment, they were taking a swim.
“Count the fish!” a spectator yelled. They righted their canoe and pulled themselves back in. With grim expressions, they resumed paddling downstream.
Lolly and Maria’s canoe neared the Drop. As it did so, they increased the power of their strokes, accelerating. As her toes came even with the lip of the drop, Maria planted her paddle where the green water met the white, like an Olympic pole vaulter preparing to jump. She pulled back on the paddle, bringing it past her hips. Lolly’s paddle struck the water at the same time and grabbed more water, adding to their forward momentum.
Their canoe went airborne, traveling several feet, over the boil where the waters fell, before pancaking in the quiet water farther downstream.
Phil Jenkins had turned his head back a moment earlier to see what was happening behind him, and had watched the whole boof. “Wow,” said Phil. “Who’s the pretty girl with Miz Aossey?” Maria was blond and blue-eyed, which was very definitely Phil’s “type.”
He had also stopped paddling, and the boat had veered a bit. “Keep your mind on your oarwork,” Laurel snapped.
Larry and Gary Rose, battling to catch up with Lolly and Maria, were also impressed. “How are we going to top that?” said Larry. “It’s not like we’re going to win the race, so we have to find some way to impress the girls.”
“I dunno. Maybe we can strike a pose?” Gary said sarcastically. “How about we just finish the race?”
“Great idea! Let’s strike a pose,” Larry said, ignoring his brother’s obvious dismay. “The girls will love it. When we’re almost at the Drop, back paddle to hold us there. This’ll be spectacular.”
It was. Although not perhaps the way Larry had in mind.
Gary held the boat against the current, so it jutted out over the Drop. Larry, in the front seat, set his paddle down, and shook his fists in the air. The crowd roared appropriately.
“Bring us back a little, Gary,” Larry ordered. “Now lean back, and keep paddling.” Gary groaned, but complied. Larry slowly rose up from his seat, extending his arms for balance. The boat trembled as Gary fought the rush of the water. Larry was standing now, and brought his hands together, like a prizefighter after a K.O.
“Can we go yet?” said Gary, through gritted teeth.
“A moment more. I can see someone adjusting a camera.”
An inquisitive wasp buzzed Gary’s head, and he lost control as he tried to keep an eye on it. With a great lurch, the boat toppled. It first penciled down, throwing Larry into the water, and then its butt dropped with a great thud. Since the falling water had carved a deeper hole at the base of the ledge, this in turn caused the prow to seesaw upward. At some point, Gary also lost his seating, and joined his partner in the drink. The boat bobbed downstream as the Rose boys scrambled, sputtering droplets, out of their little bubble bath.
“So, did we impress the girls yet?” asked Gary.
* * *
“That was fun!” said Maria. “I’m glad we did those practice runs, though. I would hate to mess up in front of a crowd like this.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Lolly acknowledged.
“So what’s the next step?”
“In whitewater rafting? You need to learn to handle a kayak. Start on flatwater, then try the lower Schwarza when the powerplant discharges coolant water. Once you have enough experience, you can tackle Schwarza Falls, upriver. Or at least the little falls below it.”
“Little falls?”
“Where the Schwarza flows over fallen chunks of the ring wall.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Grantville, Summer 1632
“So you’re the plant ladies.”
“That’s what people call
Billy Joe and Jim Bob tried to copy this move, but with both hands raised in the air, like thrill seekers on a roller coaster. That wasn’t a good idea. Their boat rolled to port, and without paddles, there wasn’t much they could do to stop it. In a moment, they were taking a swim.
“Count the fish!” a spectator yelled. They righted their canoe and pulled themselves back in. With grim expressions, they resumed paddling downstream.
Lolly and Maria’s canoe neared the Drop. As it did so, they increased the power of their strokes, accelerating. As her toes came even with the lip of the drop, Maria planted her paddle where the green water met the white, like an Olympic pole vaulter preparing to jump. She pulled back on the paddle, bringing it past her hips. Lolly’s paddle struck the water at the same time and grabbed more water, adding to their forward momentum.
Their canoe went airborne, traveling several feet, over the boil where the waters fell, before pancaking in the quiet water farther downstream.
Phil Jenkins had turned his head back a moment earlier to see what was happening behind him, and had watched the whole boof. “Wow,” said Phil. “Who’s the pretty girl with Miz Aossey?” Maria was blond and blue-eyed, which was very definitely Phil’s “type.”
He had also stopped paddling, and the boat had veered a bit. “Keep your mind on your oarwork,” Laurel snapped.
Larry and Gary Rose, battling to catch up with Lolly and Maria, were also impressed. “How are we going to top that?” said Larry. “It’s not like we’re going to win the race, so we have to find some way to impress the girls.”
“I dunno. Maybe we can strike a pose?” Gary said sarcastically. “How about we just finish the race?”
“Great idea! Let’s strike a pose,” Larry said, ignoring his brother’s obvious dismay. “The girls will love it. When we’re almost at the Drop, back paddle to hold us there. This’ll be spectacular.”
It was. Although not perhaps the way Larry had in mind.
Gary held the boat against the current, so it jutted out over the Drop. Larry, in the front seat, set his paddle down, and shook his fists in the air. The crowd roared appropriately.
“Bring us back a little, Gary,” Larry ordered. “Now lean back, and keep paddling.” Gary groaned, but complied. Larry slowly rose up from his seat, extending his arms for balance. The boat trembled as Gary fought the rush of the water. Larry was standing now, and brought his hands together, like a prizefighter after a K.O.
“Can we go yet?” said Gary, through gritted teeth.
“A moment more. I can see someone adjusting a camera.”
An inquisitive wasp buzzed Gary’s head, and he lost control as he tried to keep an eye on it. With a great lurch, the boat toppled. It first penciled down, throwing Larry into the water, and then its butt dropped with a great thud. Since the falling water had carved a deeper hole at the base of the ledge, this in turn caused the prow to seesaw upward. At some point, Gary also lost his seating, and joined his partner in the drink. The boat bobbed downstream as the Rose boys scrambled, sputtering droplets, out of their little bubble bath.
“So, did we impress the girls yet?” asked Gary.
* * *
“That was fun!” said Maria. “I’m glad we did those practice runs, though. I would hate to mess up in front of a crowd like this.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Lolly acknowledged.
“So what’s the next step?”
“In whitewater rafting? You need to learn to handle a kayak. Start on flatwater, then try the lower Schwarza when the powerplant discharges coolant water. Once you have enough experience, you can tackle Schwarza Falls, upriver. Or at least the little falls below it.”
“Little falls?”
“Where the Schwarza flows over fallen chunks of the ring wall.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Grantville, Summer 1632
“So you’re the plant ladies.”
“That’s what people call
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