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Snippet 3

2007-02-18

In the morning we awoke to rain. Cold November rain. Rain and lots of distant rifle fire as thousands of deer all over Michigan took their last breaths.

We swore as we gathered together everything we needed; folded the tents loosely and fastened everything into the centers of the old Grumman Canoes. Chris made some happy remark about this weather being a test of our character and there was a short discussion about postponing, or at least waiting till the weather cleared later - which included a tossed off, but not bad, suggestion from Yeti about how nice it would be to enjoy a nice hot breakfast at a diner we’d seen a few miles back the evening before. No one dismissed this idea out of hand, but neither did any of the rest of us respond in the affirmative. We simply carried the canoes the hundred or so feet to the edge of the river and partially slid them in.

Chris and Yeti got situated first and took off; Yeti doing a quiet version his patented exclamation “Ye-hawwww” as they dug their first strokes. They were around the first bend before I was comfortable in the stern of my boat, irritating Todd, who sat chomping at the bit in the prow waiting for me to finish getting ready. I made sure I’d secured things as well as I though they ought be and was now fiddling with my life jacket.

“Come on! You’re taking forever.”

“Shut up Todd. It’s a forty mile trip. We’re not going to get left in the dust.”

I’d promised my folks I’d wear a life vest and had grabbed four out of the garage the day before, but none of the others wanted to bother since from what we’d heard there were absolutely no rapids and the river was wide and clear for the entirety of our route. It was also notoriously shallow in all but a very few places. Regardless, I’d promised and figured if nothing else the thing would keep me warmer than I’d be without it. For some reason though, the straps had been pulled all the way out of the little metal loops and, as though it was something I’d planned all along to piss off Todd, I was having trouble getting them back through correctly.

A good three or four minutes after Chris and Yeti had started down the river, and after a final round of what was by now probably justified bellyaching from a growingly exasperated Todd, I got settled in my seat and we pushed off.

“Geez! Finally!”

“Yeah, Yeah.” I countered. “Pull right.”

I convinced Todd to spend a couple more minutes just making sure we understood the two word commands we’d been practicing that would ensure our ability to maneuver the boat efficiently. We knew them by heart, but now, in a boat, I thought running through them all with paddles in our hands would be a wise thing to do, like checking your lights and turn signals before staring on a long car trip. Now that we were actually floating free, Todd was happy to oblige and I think we both enjoyed this little practice session.

We did a couple of spin moves and some dead stops and sharp turns. We’d call out “slide right” or “push left” and found that we were able to maneuver the boat quite well right from the outset. We were happy we’d taken the time to read and discuss so much of this over the previous weeks in anticipation of this trip.

We deliberately rocked the canoe from side to side a bit to get a feel for how far out of balance we could be without tipping the craft over. Todd, happy now, even turned around and took another tug or two on the ropes that would hold all our stuff together should the canoe capsize.

We’d both been in canoes plenty of times before, but this was different. This was the beginning of something we’d decided to take seriously, and we both knew, from having read it over and over again, that being a team, that our being able to communicate quickly and efficiently would become, if we progressed as we hoped to, extremely important.

The rain diminished to nothing more than a sprinkle almost exactly at the moment we started down the river. By the time we rounded the first bend, just a hundred yards down, it stopped completely, and within another half hour, the sun broke through the clouds.

Soon we rounded another bend and now we could see Chris and Yeti far ahead of us. Chris looked back and waved. We paddled steadily for ten minutes to catch up. Yeti smiled at me as we finally pulled along side them. “Nice way to start the day, huh?”

I smiled back and winked but I hadn’t said a word in the previous few minutes and I was enjoying the sounds and sights. I loved the sounds of the paddles dipping into and yanking water faster than the boat traveled, and even the soft clank when we’d hit the sides of the boat with a slightly misplaced stroke. Birds sang even in November, and other than a distant rifle shot every few minutes, which somehow didn’t interrupt the silence the same way talking would have, the peaceful sounds of the river was all the soundtrack I needed or wanted to hear.

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Hardcore_Pyro (2007-02-18)
Nice, felt like I was the paddling with you. I could even feel the cold mist on my face........

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