Tubing in a river is one of the top three summer water activities, up there with going to the pool and going to the beach. The only bad part about tubing is knowing that while you are enjoying peacefully floating down the river, you are floating toward the end of the tubing experience. I went tubing last weekend in the Kiski River and as soon as it ended, I missed the tube life.
If you’ve never been tubing, here’s what the experience is like: you pull up to some hut on the side of the road that facilitates tubing and also probably kayaking and fishing. They drive you in a van couple miles up the river, pulling a trailer full of tubes behind the van. Then they drop you off at a random river entrance and you and your friends plop in and float for a few hours. The tubes usually have tethers so you can attach yourself to your friends (the dream).
I’m not one for white water rapids, so this kind of tubing is the ideal experience because the water is almost completely serene and you’re floating at a max speed of 3 mph. You can lay in the tube and sunbathe, but when it gets too hot, you can take a little dunky dunk in the water.
The best part about tubing is the cooler tube — honestly, don’t even bother tubing if you don’t get a cooler tube. It’s basically a regular tube without the hole (the donut hole of inner tubes) that can hold coolers of cold drinks, chips, fruit, etc. Our cooler tube had seltzer, beer, sprite, three types of potato chips, pretzels, cheese puffs, blueberries, grapes, shrimp skewers, and sandwiches.
When you climb into the Kiski River, you’re not going to think, “This is the cleanest river I’ve ever seen. I can scoop some of the clear water into my hands and drink it like a parched traveler.” We kept asking Lindsay, who knows more about the local environment than the rest of us, if we could dump the remainders of a beer or seltzer in the river and she was like, “yeah, are you kidding? It’s made of oil.”
It’s fine! You can tube in the Kiski River without repercussions, but that’s only been true somewhat recently. In 1971, the Kiski — birth name Kiskiminetas — was named the most polluted river in the country due to wastewater and coal plant pollution. According to one article, a study in 1980 “found that the only living thing in the river was a frog near the mouth.”
As is the case with much of the waterways and land in Pennsylvania, the name Kiskiminetas has roots in an indigenous language, though the exact origin seems to be lost (wonder how that happened!) The Kiskiminetas Watershed Association says the name “has been interpreted to mean Cut Spirit, Plenty of Walnuts, or Make Daylight.”
Wikipedia says it could mean “place of the largest stream” or “clear, clean stream of many bends” (the irony). None of these sources specify a language or tribe of origin. It’s sad the way Western Pennsylvania shortens the names of places, like the Kiski, or calling the Monongahela River “the Mon,” but there’s no widespread knowledge of where these names come from or what they mean.
A few years ago, biologists from the Western Pennsylvania Conservancy documented freshwater mussels in the river for the first time in over 100 years. Now it has a thriving water sport ecosystem and no mass amounts of industrial waste seeping in — though I’m sure there’s still plenty of filthy runoff (not to mention all the pee from water sport enjoyers).
When I looked up reviews for tubing the spot we used — River’s Edge — one person said “Would recommend this trip on a hot dog day of summer ! We actually took a picnic lunch and made our trip a bit longer goofing off after lunch” (she’s so right). Another reviewer said “The river is too slow for tubing” and River’s Edge replied, saying “The thousands of people who love tubing may disagree” (so true!)
I left the tubing experience with a stronger Teva tan than ever before, a slight sunburn on my shins only, and a thirst for tubing that has only grown stronger. Long live tubing.