I can only philosophize for so long while trudging through the muck of my situation. Lately, the muck has been running deep and stinky, filling my nostrils with caustic attitude, my neck sore from holding my face above it all. I gotta get out of this place.................
Let's go back 21 years. Sarah is eleven, Rachel is nine and Nick is seven. Summertime. I decided to take the kids canoeing. In Missouri. On the Current River. By myself. Nick can't swim a lick. In hindsight, Amy was nuts to let us go. The kids are still alive so you know this story has a happy ending.
I'd canoed the Current before, with a bunch of guys, a bunch of beer and with a bunch of inappropriate intentions. Our usual was to pick up canoes at Aker's Ferry, ride a bus up river, put in at Baptist Point and float back to Aker's the first day, put in at Aker's the second day and float, slowly, to, I think, Pulltide. I don't know how many miles exactly, but a healthy trip for two days. I figured me and the kids could move faster than a bunch of gravel bar loitering boat drunks (and I mean that in a good way- some of those guys are still alive and might stumble upon this post), so I planned to set up camp at Pulltide and run the river from Baptist in one day. Despite me in a canoe with a seven year old potential anchor and the girls in another canoe for the very first time, we actually managed to hit camp before sundown. Surviving the trip was fortunate for everyone- surviving unscathed did not prove to be an option.
If my recollection proves faulty or if I forget something, expect my kids to weigh in and set the record straight.
In the interest of expediency, I will jump to the insanities and heights of irresponsibility fair to heap upon myself. We can all laugh now, remember, because nobody's dead. I am going to limit this narrative to 3 episodes:
Episode one- Sarah and Rachel hit a half submerged fallen tree while navigating a long fast curve in the waterway, over turning and overturning, allowing the river to fill their canoe with all of the force of the flow, jamming their ride against the tree and engaging all their hair within the branches- a fortunate development as the canoe left from under them and abandoned them hanging. I somehow remember a heroic rescue by me. I almost crapped my drawers.
Episode two- We pulled over to an area where we could jump into deep water from about 20 feet above. Nick had no interest in even looking over the edge so he stayed with our boats. Sarah and Rachel followed me up to the launch pad. Sarah has no fear, so I jump first and she followed. Rachel couldn't even get herself to look down. We climbed back up and tried to coax Rachel to jump. There was no convincing her. After some more cajoling, challenging and teasing by Sarah, we both realized Rachel would never jump. She remained at least 30 feet back. Sarah plunged for the second time. I looked back at Rachel, shivering with fear and turned toward the river to see that Sarah was safe when Rachel screamed bloody daylights and flew full speed past me and off the cliff. She hit the water mid-river, swam across, stood and waved. I almost crapped my drawers.
Episode three- Another cliff, this one higher at 26' (you ask how I know how high? I brought a tape measure) with faster water underneath and a harder climb to the top. Rachel and Nick stayed back cross river. Sarah and I crossed and climbed. I wanted Sarah to go first. She never hesitated and leaped out. I watched her hit the water and go under. I waited but she did not surface. I panicked and jumped wide of where she submerged, came up fast and scoured the surface. No Sarah. I was afraid I'd miss her if I ducked under to look. Thoughts spun out of control. I might even have looked for blood. After what seemed like an hour had passed, she popped out of the water about 50 feet down stream. I barreled over and yelled at her; she looked up at me, unperturbed, and simply stated "One of mom's flip flops fell off and she would kill me if I lost it, dad. Sorry." I almost crapped my drawers.
We all made it to the camp alive, I grilled hot dogs and we discovered the biggest danger of the weekend: the campsite toilets. And, again, I almost crapped my drawers.
Let's go back 21 years. Sarah is eleven, Rachel is nine and Nick is seven. Summertime. I decided to take the kids canoeing. In Missouri. On the Current River. By myself. Nick can't swim a lick. In hindsight, Amy was nuts to let us go. The kids are still alive so you know this story has a happy ending.
I'd canoed the Current before, with a bunch of guys, a bunch of beer and with a bunch of inappropriate intentions. Our usual was to pick up canoes at Aker's Ferry, ride a bus up river, put in at Baptist Point and float back to Aker's the first day, put in at Aker's the second day and float, slowly, to, I think, Pulltide. I don't know how many miles exactly, but a healthy trip for two days. I figured me and the kids could move faster than a bunch of gravel bar loitering boat drunks (and I mean that in a good way- some of those guys are still alive and might stumble upon this post), so I planned to set up camp at Pulltide and run the river from Baptist in one day. Despite me in a canoe with a seven year old potential anchor and the girls in another canoe for the very first time, we actually managed to hit camp before sundown. Surviving the trip was fortunate for everyone- surviving unscathed did not prove to be an option.
If my recollection proves faulty or if I forget something, expect my kids to weigh in and set the record straight.
In the interest of expediency, I will jump to the insanities and heights of irresponsibility fair to heap upon myself. We can all laugh now, remember, because nobody's dead. I am going to limit this narrative to 3 episodes:
Episode one- Sarah and Rachel hit a half submerged fallen tree while navigating a long fast curve in the waterway, over turning and overturning, allowing the river to fill their canoe with all of the force of the flow, jamming their ride against the tree and engaging all their hair within the branches- a fortunate development as the canoe left from under them and abandoned them hanging. I somehow remember a heroic rescue by me. I almost crapped my drawers.
Episode two- We pulled over to an area where we could jump into deep water from about 20 feet above. Nick had no interest in even looking over the edge so he stayed with our boats. Sarah and Rachel followed me up to the launch pad. Sarah has no fear, so I jump first and she followed. Rachel couldn't even get herself to look down. We climbed back up and tried to coax Rachel to jump. There was no convincing her. After some more cajoling, challenging and teasing by Sarah, we both realized Rachel would never jump. She remained at least 30 feet back. Sarah plunged for the second time. I looked back at Rachel, shivering with fear and turned toward the river to see that Sarah was safe when Rachel screamed bloody daylights and flew full speed past me and off the cliff. She hit the water mid-river, swam across, stood and waved. I almost crapped my drawers.
Episode three- Another cliff, this one higher at 26' (you ask how I know how high? I brought a tape measure) with faster water underneath and a harder climb to the top. Rachel and Nick stayed back cross river. Sarah and I crossed and climbed. I wanted Sarah to go first. She never hesitated and leaped out. I watched her hit the water and go under. I waited but she did not surface. I panicked and jumped wide of where she submerged, came up fast and scoured the surface. No Sarah. I was afraid I'd miss her if I ducked under to look. Thoughts spun out of control. I might even have looked for blood. After what seemed like an hour had passed, she popped out of the water about 50 feet down stream. I barreled over and yelled at her; she looked up at me, unperturbed, and simply stated "One of mom's flip flops fell off and she would kill me if I lost it, dad. Sorry." I almost crapped my drawers.
We all made it to the camp alive, I grilled hot dogs and we discovered the biggest danger of the weekend: the campsite toilets. And, again, I almost crapped my drawers.
Lol, I do recall that trip. The only adjustment I would make is that Sarah and I got trapped by the roots of the gigantic tree (a lot of things seem gigantic when you're 9) not the branches. The canoe was being sucked under the tree while Sarah and I clung to the roots. This, of course was the middle of the river, and I do recall a rather heroic rescue from our wonderful dad!
ReplyDeleteHahaha. I remember a summer when Dan and I went on a Current River trip with you and.....I don't remember all the other people. The first day the water was rather shallow, warm, clear, and beautiful. The second leg of that journey was a very different animal. The water was deep, fast, and FREEZING after we passed the spring. You guys were waiting around the corner of a bend when Dan and I came around and you dumped our canoe.....and the beer. I hit the water and I think my heart stopped for a few seconds it was so cold. I remember coming up like a rocket and drilling you in the center of your chest I was so stunned. We really had a great time that weekend.
ReplyDeleteFor the record- I am absolutely SURE I did NOT condone this trip and I am pretty darn sure I told the kids they were all smarter than that. I am also fairly sure Tracy must have lied to me about the expected activities or I SURELY would not have let him escape with the kids while I was working my bee hind off at some trade show. I am also pretty sure Tracy did indeed crap his drawers at least once on that trip.
ReplyDelete