Cold call.

Cabin fever had set in and we decided we needed a fishing trip. Coop and I had heard the trout were hitting on the Green River, below the dam on the Flaming Gorge, near the Utah-Wyoming border. 'Twas early May, but it had been warm and we were eager to try out our new 'belly boats', which were glorified inner tubes, with a smaller tube as a backrest, and a nylon body with a sling to step into, to keep us upright as we floated a wild river. As we put in, in the morning sunshine, it seemed like a great idea. Within an hour, however, as the horizontal snow and freezing temperatures hit, having lost the air in my tube when I snagged it with a treble hook, (while trying to land a nice trout), I was having second thoughts, sitting on the only floatation I had, a wheel barrow tube, which barely kept my head out of the water as I bounced thru the rocks of the many rapids, thoroughly soaked, knowing the only place to get out of the deep canyon was SEVEN MILES downstream and I was already nearly frozen. Coop and I were separated early, but I later found out he had the same problem. No air in his tube either. By the time I reached my RV, which we had arranged to be at the takeout point, with the blizzard still raging, the hours spent in the 30-some degree water had taken it's toll. It is pretty much a blur, but we were both hypothermic, shivering uncontrollably, and unable to start the RV without help. We'd both lost our fishing poles, but that was of no concern. Fishing was the LAST thing on our minds, as the feeling gradually returned, with painful burning, to our hands and bodies. Never again, for float tubes on the Green River in early May.....