We went to West Virginia this weekend to go whitewater rafting on the Gauley River, which has a bunch of Class-4 and Class-5 rapids.
It was in the low 50s and drizzly cold. I am a cold-weather wimp. I let everyone else go whitewater rafting. While they froze their tushes off (and had a wonderful time, they said), I went to the library a couple of visitor-center museums and a few little shops. Read books and wrote stuff--my favorite weekend activity. :)
I know. I'm supposed to be an outdoor-adventure lover. And I am. I just didn't see the point in being cold and wet for 8+ hours when I could come back in the summer and whitewater raft when it's 90 degrees outside.
I heard the Hubster talking on the phone to a friend this evening after we got home. He was telling his friend about how cold and rough it was (he'd fallen from the boat three times and thought he was going to drown once) and how "Wifey was the only smart one. She didn't go."
Hee hee. That Hubster sure knows what he's talking about. :)