Column by Joe Hansen, Outdoors Editor

It seemed like a great idea: Warm air, cool water and cold beer on the Row River outside of Cottage Grove.

But my first big innertubing trip of the summer ended with me and two friends standing by the side of the road in Dorena — soggy, half-clothed and miles from our vehicles. We must have looked like total goofballs to all 15 of the people driving home to Dorena around 5 p.m. on a Wednesday.

Now, I consider myself an expert tuber. I am a member of a elite group of people who have actually innertubed to work (Boulder Creek outside of Boulder, Colo., 2003). And as a veteran tuber (this is the first and last time I will ever call myself this), I was concerned about our plan from the start. We’d left vehicles at our starting and ending points, but they were many miles apart.

I was worried we wouldn’t be able to cover the distance and, if my memory serves me, I had tried to warn my friends that this was too long of a float to attempt in an afternoon. Jon and Heather may disagree with this account. That doesn’t matter, because I write an outdoors column and they don’t. Enough said.

So, where’s Dorena? Good question.

It’s a tiny little town 12 miles east of Cottage Grove, up the Row River Valley.

I was visiting friends in Cottage Grove on my day off, and we’d decided there just wasn’t any better way to spend the afternoon than floating down the river on cheap innertubes with cheaper beer.

We’d plopped down on our tubes about two miles upriver of Dorena, and started drifting around noon. By 12:20 p.m. our starting point was still visible. We had yet to round the first bend.

Somewhere up in the mountains, snowpack wasn’t melting. Rain wasn’t cascading into the Row River Valley. It’s what you call low-water-volume conditions. That means it takes 30 minutes to round a single river bend on a tube.

But finally we turned the first corner to the sound of rapids. Ripples, more like it. But, anticipating some speed — finally — I paddled toward the miniature whitewater. The first big rock gave me a bruise on my backside I still carry to this day. The next one was no better. I ran aground.

I stood, rather ungracefully, in the knee-deep water, picking up my innertube. Jon and Heather behind me were laughing and floating through the rapids. They’re skinny. I portage.

Things got better. There were some rapids worthy of a “Woo-hooh!” or two, and nice pools. After an hour or two we’d passed many bends in the river, and it was tough to tell how far we’d gone.

But we could still see the clear-cut hillside above where we’d started. And when the wind blew hard enough upriver, we were actually going the wrong way.

But we kept on, convinced of our progress. As the afternoon shadows grew longer, Heather thought we were halfway back to my truck. I was skeptical. Jon didn’t have an opinion.

Regardless, we eventually came to a bridge that was not the bridge where we’d parked. I decided to walk up to the road and take a look.

We were in Dorena. In just over five hours, we’d drifted perhaps two miles — a generous estimate.

I went into Dorena’s only store to use the phone. I called a friend and asked if she could come give us a lift. She wasn’t keen on the idea, easily withstanding my wit and charm. But then our friend Bruce happened to drive by.

He gave me a ride to my rig and I explained what our plan had been. It involved covering 10 miles floating on a river that was barely moving and, it occurred to me, somehow circumnavigating Dorena Lake. No small feat.

“That was... optimistic,” said Bruce.

Indeed.

I think I’ll leave this one off my innertubing resume.

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Outdoors Editor Joe Hansen can be reached by calling 269-1222, ext. 238, or by e-mailing jhansen@theworldlink.com or outdoors@theworldlink.com.