I can remember when tubing was tubing. I don't claim to be any kind of expert or anything, but I remember the thrill and terror of being pulled behind a boat on the actual tube of a tire; gripping the ski rope, trying to avoid the air nozzle sticking out of the tube, praying the boat driver wasn't too sadistic, and hanging on for dear life as I bounced uncontrollably on a wild wake.

Tubing was a real commitment back then. There was no giving the boat driver the thumbs down to slow down, because once he hit the throttle it took both hands and every ounce of arm strength I could muster just to hold on to the rope.

Once the boat got going, I entered my own little world of black rubber, massive amounts of lake water, and a wiggly rope. The length of the ride usually depended on the mercy of that driver at the other end of the rope.

Some drivers pull tubers gently through calm waters, and then there are the good ones.

The good ones seek out rough waters, speed up on the turns, and make you pray you remembered to tie the string on your bathing suit really, really tight. These guys make it their mission to create the most spectacular and legendary tube crashes possible. These crashes send you flipping through the air at least five times and skip you across the water like a smooth flat stone. They then smash you through the surface, sending a gush of water, silt, and a brim or two up your nostrils. Finally, you are suspended under water wondering which way is up, until the life vest pulls you back to the surface and back to your senses. If you're lucky, your swimming trunks will be clinging to your ankles and not at the bottom of the lake.

When the party in the boat says, "Man, you should have seen the way you crashed! It was like you were doing cartwheels across the water!" then you know you had a pretty good ride.

Tubes aren't really tubes these days, which is probably a good thing. Tubes are now $500 luxury cruisers with seats and handles, and the rope is connected - so that element is no longer in play. The main difference is that now they're actually fun.

Where tubing was once an epic struggle of arm strength, prayer, and merciless boat drivers, it is now an enjoyable ride. The man with his hand on the throttle can still send you careening through the air like a human Frisbee, but at least you'll see it coming.

My kids got to go tubing for the first time July 4. I'm not sure I would have allowed that to happen a few years ago, but with today's luxury tubeliners and a kinder, gentler boat driver, I really didn't have a choice. My six and eight-year-old girls didn't want to stop, but my three-year-old son (with mom and dad flanking him) kind of reminded me of the old days. He wasn't quite sure whether to scream with joy or terror. He did scream, but he had a great time.