vang vieng

Floatin'

Growing up in a small, rural, foothill town with lakes, rivers, and scorching summers, some activities come pretty natural. One of the more enjoyable and ingenious of such activities requires the purchase of an inner tube and a fair amount of beer. The only other requirement is some swimming shorts, and you’ve got yourself some prime entertainment. Many summers were spent floating down the river on an inner tube, multiple times a week. Sometimes multiple times a day, but who’s counting? The best way to escape the heat was to pack a few cold ones and plunge into the icy river, letting it take you to the edge of town, where a pickup was (usually) available. I look back fondly on these days when a beer shower may have been the only one some of us had for days.

When I learned that one of the main tourist draws of Vang Vieng, Laos involved floating down a river on an inner tube, stopping at riverside bars along the way, I couldn’t help but laugh to myself at how this seemed like such a novel concept to many from around the world. Firmly in my element, I grabbed a couple roadies and a tube and hopped in the back of a tuk tuk to be dropped off upriver. Apparently the scene in Vang Vieng used to be much more wild, as hard drugs sold at all the bars contributed to upwards of 20 deaths a year. The scene has been cleaned up for the most part, as only 2 bars are open on any given day, and stick to (mostly) serving alcohol only. The scene was as you’d expect, with 20-somethings grabbing on to ropes thrown out into the middle of the river by the bartenders on shore, trying desperately to pull themselves up an onto the makeshift platforms that made up each bar. Bar competitions only barely interrupted the complete state of relaxation experienced by all participants. Out of the river, the vibe was as worry free as can be. For some though, once the plunge was made back into the water, the struggle was real. Flipped tubes, bridge collisions, rock avoidance (or lack thereof) were just a few of the many adventures that await in the water. Me? I was cruising, fully entrenched in my comfort zone, enjoying the striking view of mountains surrounding me and in the distance, a relaxing front row seat to enjoy the present and reminisce about the past. Just as Kenny Chesney sang,

I went back to a two-tone, short-bed Chevy, driving (my boys) out to the levy, living life with no sense of time.

Probably as far away from home as I’ve ever been, it all came back around. I think I’ve decided what’s first on the agenda when I return…