Tubing, Turbulence, and the Great Ring Escape: Bennett Spring State Park Shenanigans
There are moments in life that test your patience, your reflexes, and your ability to laugh through mild panic. Tubing at Bennett Spring State Park? That was all three. What started as a relaxing float down a scenic Missouri stream turned into a comedy of errors, soggy snacks, and one very dramatic jewelry loss that still haunts me.
Letâs rewind.
đ¶ The Setup: Tubes, Snacks, and False Confidence
We arrived at Bennett Spring State Park armed with sunscreen, snacks, and the kind of overconfidence that only comes from watching too many peaceful river tubing videos on YouTube. The water looked calm. The tubes looked sturdy. The plan was simple: float, relax, and maybe wave at a trout or two.
I was feeling good. I had my sunglasses, my waterproof speaker, and my wedding band securely on my finger. (Foreshadowing alert.)
đ The Launch: Graceful as a Drunken Flamingo
Getting into a tube is not as easy as it looks. I tried the âsit and scootâ method, which resulted in a splash that soaked my dignity. My friend Tara executed a flawless entry, which she immediately ruined by flipping backwards into the water while trying to adjust her hat.
We were offâfloating, laughing, and dodging low-hanging branches like we were in a lazy river version of American Ninja Warrior.
đ The Chaos: Natureâs Obstacle Course
Bennett Spring is beautiful, but itâs also full of surprises. One minute youâre drifting peacefully, the next youâre spinning in a whirlpool created by a rogue rock formation. At one point, I got stuck in a shallow bend and had to crab-walk my tube back into the current while a family of ducks judged me silently.
Tara got tangled in a tree, screamed âIâm being attacked by nature!â and then calmly asked if I had any trail mix. I did. It was wet.
đ The Tragedy: The Ring That Got Away
Somewhere around the halfway mark, I reached down to splash water on my face and felt⊠nothing. My wedding band was gone. Justâgone. Vanished into the stream like a tiny golden tribute to the river gods.
I froze. Tara looked at me. I looked at my hand. We both screamed âNOOOO!â in unison like we were in a soap opera.
We spent the next 20 minutes trying to âscanâ the riverbed with our feet, which mostly resulted in kicking rocks and yelling âIs that it?!â every time we touched something vaguely metallic. Spoiler: it was never it.
I briefly considered diving, but then remembered I have the lung capacity of a chipmunk and the grace of a folding chair.
đ The Recovery: Emotional and Otherwise
Eventually, we accepted the loss. I gave a heartfelt speech to the river, thanking it for the memories and asking it to please not eat any more jewelry. Tara suggested we start a GoFundMe titled âHelp Him Replace His Ring, Heâs Too Clumsy for Marriage.â
We floated the rest of the way in silence, broken only by occasional laughter and one moment where I tried to stand up and got stuck in the tube like a human donut.
𧥠Final Thoughts
Tubing at Bennett Spring State Park was everything I didnât expectâhilarious, humbling, and slightly traumatic. I lost a ring, gained a story, and learned that nature doesnât care about your sentimental jewelry.
Would I do it again? Absolutely. But next time, Iâm leaving the ring at home and bringing a snorkel, a metal detector, and maybe a flotation device shaped like a throneâbecause dignity deserves a second chance.
