At the very border to North Carolina (which I crossed, just because), we put on lifejackets and helmets and grabbed a paddle. To the imaginary sound of banjo music we entered the raft and strode gently down the river. It wasn’t gentle for a long time, though. Rapids were ahead, and we all got wet, we all fell out, we broke the raft and we even managed to make the guide swim. Couldn’t be better value for the money, could it? Apparently, it could; local Moonshine was served at night, and when in Rome…