Well, good people of Durango, this is my first La Vida Local appearance, and I am deeply honored to be able to pen a few words for you for our beloved Durango Telegraph.

When I first thought about moving down to Durango after a decade in the Gunnison-Crested Butte region, I immediately looked into writing for a local paper. I was delighted to discover there was an independent weekly, and the Telegraph hasn’t let me down, as a writer or a reader. When Missy Votel offered me the opportunity to contribute to this column, I jumped at the chance. Editorial freedom to write about this community I’ve grown to love so much? Sign me up.

Community, common-unity, at the essence of Durango, this is what we celebrate the best. So I figured I’d write about something that the community seems to embrace wholeheartedly: that need to get wet when the temperatures heat up.

My introduction to recreating on our river came in the form of the annual river parade, part of the Animas River Days festival. There was a promise of costumes, and given my other experiences with Durango and costumes, I figured it would be worth it for that reason alone. It was.

I wore a Stone Cold Steve Austin leather vest with a Mario Brother’s hat, and my partner-in-river wore an Egyptian Pharaoh headdress with slithering snake sticking its tongue out, as we floated down the river in our two-person canoe generously borrowed from my landlord. The scene was beautiful: hundreds of costumed tubers and rafters slowly floating down the river, the sun beating down, lime green cans of local beer, loving the water and the summertime. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before, and it was awesome! We eddied out just before the notorious Smelter Rapid, ran our shuttle and joined the after-party at Ska.

My flirtation with water-based recreation had begun anew. If canoeing down the river was fun, tubing seemed even better. One Saturday, I participated in what was to be my wildest night of the summer: a townie bicycle tour Superhero costume party in which we made it to nearly every watering hole in Durango. In our posse of 30, we singlehandedly transformed the energy of every establishment we entered with our super partying powers, and in true Durango spirit, each establishment was psyched on our presence. The next morning, with super powers depleted and a super hangover in its place, the suggestion of tubing down the Animas couldn’t have sounded better.

We pumped up the tubes and floated on down the river, pounding heads soothed by the comfort of having nothing to do but perch upon floating beds of relaxation. Our team of four connected with three other former superheroes, and we formed a daisy chain of tubes floating our hangovers away together. We even decided to run Smelter, and it felt like a rite of passage when I successfully made it through without flipping.

The next tubing adventure came in the form of a pirate-themed float, which was perfect because I’d just purchased a $20 tube from Wally World, named The Pirate. This time my partners in crime were all women, dressed in bikinis with pirate hats, fake tattoos, and enough bad pirate jokes to keep us all entertained for a few hours. Unfortunately, my tube only made it an hour into the journey, and its demise was met somewhere just before the Main Ave. bridge. To top this off, one of the ladies also lost her tube to the rocks, and soon we were doubled up, two to a tube. The cramped quarters were made more tolerable, of course, by copious amounts of river grog. Why we decided to run Smelter in this state I’m not sure, but we did and I swam the entire thing, bouncing off rocks like a pinball. I emerged from the ordeal intact and uninjured, but humbled by the reality that tubing the Animas is not always mellow.

If I recall correctly that was my last time on the river for the summer. There were other exciting “wet firsts” for the summer: first foam dance party (on a first date nonetheless), and my first dish diving experience in a Durango restaurant (I’ll certainly write about working in the food industry one day in this column.)

After living high up in the mountains for so long, I was a little worried about the heat of a Durango summer. Now that I know the remedies, I’ll welcome next summer openly, knowing relief is just a tube ride away. And now, sitting here in repose I’m wishing the summer back, for maybe just one hour of tubing bliss, basking in the sun with good friends all around, and no worries at all.

Then I think ahead to the fall, getting out to the red rock desert, for more basking in the sun, campfires; enjoying the land till the snow comes back and eventually fills up the rivers once again.

– Luke Mehall