Frat boys

On the Niangua river.

My Best Man, Gustav, arraigned an easy trip...so we thought.

Oh buddy he nailed it--on Spring Break.

Much jackassery ensued, and tolerance grew thinner and thinner.  It all broke when yours truly was hit in the head by a fist-sized chunk of ice by a Frat-Rat.  His Lady was beaned in the brain-pan by a beer can refilled with water.

Errm-herm, now the schtick begins to get kinda thick.

There are four canoes amongst the Krewe.  Two people each.  Every one schooled in armed martial combat, including pole-axe. 

The bigger folks quietly exited their canoes & readied themselves.  My skinny arse was ready to jump-board a raft of offenders.  The Missus was going "oh sh*t this is gonna be bad".

Just before Hell was unleashed, here comes the water patrol, sirens and lights blazing, and conservation agents in power-boats.  The Krewe grounded their paddles, I sat me arse down and went back to paddling.

The only people harassed weren't us.

That turned out well, Col!

GB thanks for sharing that. It was beautiful.