The gorges, third dam to be precise, is a wonderful place to cool off. With a 92 degree day (which only occurs in late August and mid-April for some reason I can’t fathom,) everyone and their mother had to cool off. While guys were jumping off the cliffs, girls were floating in the water, and townies were either ripping joints on the rocks or scoping out girls to masturbate to, I went hunting.
There’s a lot to see beneath the surface at the gorges – like this freshwater lobster:
epic
Measuring an astounding fourteen inches, it’s among the largest to be caught this season.
Also found under the surface was a Zona can and a lot of cigarette butts.
More alarming, though, was an aforementioned townie who decided to bring his pet snake to the gorge for the day.
A few problems with this: Don’t carry something that a large amount of people are terrified of. I’m not bringing my pet gun or a clown in public.
What if he let’s go? Snakes swim, and I bet they do so faster than me, especially while I’m panicking.
Thirdly, while he took a break from cooling off his snake, and retreated to the aforementioned rocks, I didn’t see the snake. That’s not to say he didn’t put it in a cage, I wasn’t watching too attentively – I was hunting lobsters – but when I see a guy playing with a snake in water, then see him, snakeless, smoking on a rock while I’m swimming, I get a little frightened.
If you’ve read down this far, I’ll tell you a secret – the lobster is really just a crayfish.
About Riley
I'm Riley. One could say that I started this website. It's a continuation of the Ithacan't, a publication created during a semester in Los Angeles to cure boredom and make an effort to entertain students living in Burbank. Needless to say, I like to write, as well as be awesome. But there's more to me than just that.
I like to run; Sometimes in races, but oftentimes just in the trails of Ithaca. On Sundays I might be hungover, because on Saturday night...
I like to drink beer; Natty, especially. Otherwise I'm going to spend money on a craftier beer. Or a bottle of Scotch - which isn't produced in...
America; a place I like to respect and honor.
Occasionally, I write. But there's no photographic evidence of that, so just take my word for it.
Enjoy!
