The Canoe Trip, part 483,209

This is a photo taken at the very start of our trip. My nephew Duncan is on the left, I'm in the middle, and that is Err on the right.

Please note the look of hope and intense expectation on my face and Err's. We also strike cocky poses.

Now contrast that to our look of abject exhaustion and defeat in the photo below.


I can honestly say, without any reservation at all, that in this picture I was as tired and as wore out as I have ever been. I felt like I had spent a week falling down stairs and I barely had enough "umph" left to pick up my feet and climb into the Jeep, let alone load up the gear and the canoe. In a word, I was tuckered.

As Err so aptly put it, "This is the worst good time I've ever had!" and he's right.

We hiked, climbed, crawled, shoved, paddled, and once even swam, to get to our destination. We earned every inch of the trip. We were bruised, cut, stung, bit, blistered and chafed. Sure, thirty-eight miles doesn't sound like much, but it was the way we did it.

We faced storms, wind, rain, and a dumb ass in a speedboat who tried to tip us. Twice. Err cursed him out good but I was the only one to hear it.

It was tough going to be sure, but if you take a second look at the bottom photo, there is a glint of knowing in our eyes. Mind you, our eyes are mere slits in the photo but sleeping next to the freeway in the rain will do that to you.

Doc