I am prepping to enter Monday’s Moth story slam, with the theme of ‘Caution”. I will be reminiscing about one of my many adventures with Dan. This is a preview of my entry.
A few years ago my husband, Dan, started a campaign to get me to like camping. I’ve had some bad camping experiences before I met him; and I am a huge fan of indoor plumbing.
Dan wanted to spend a week camping near Lake Superior, So, he decided we should go on a trial weekend camping trip, after which (according to his plan) I would be smitten by the camping bug. Day 1 went well – but, by evening time, we had 42 mosquito bites, 36 of which were on my ankles. In addition to being very tasty mosquito meat, I am extremely allergic, and didn’t sleep at all. Day 2 brought a lot of rain—we quickly decamped and drove home amidst the deluge.
Needless to say, we rented a cabin for our longer vacation near lake Superior– A beautiful, gorgeous cabin with a flush toilet and a solid roof over our heads. We did many nature related activities such as hiking, canoeing and eating pasties.
Our canoe trip started out by visiting the canoe ‘guy’… he had set up shop on the roadside in a trailer home. In response to our knock on his door, he emerged amid a plume of herbal medicinal smoke—for which he assured us he had a prescription. We hung out with the canoe dude for a while, before venturing out into the water.
We had a great time gently paddling through the water admiring the wildlife and beautiful vistas all around us – including a large family of ducks sunning themselves on a log. We stopped at a sandbar for a rest and some lunch, before heading back down into the water.
We didn’t get far before someone passing us asked if that was our backpack on the sandbar…. Upon closer inspection we realized we had left our backpack on dry land behind us…. we did the canoe equivalent of a U-ey and went back to the sandbar.
What happens next is where Dan and I have a different recollection of events. However, I am the one with the blog, so you will be hearing MY version –although Dan is happy to offer HIS version of events to anyone who asks.
I was at the front of the canoe, and as we arrived at the sandbar I stepped onto land and started heading towards our backpack, when I heard sounds of distress behind me… I turned around to see Dan, who had inexplicably managed to get tangled up in the branches of a dead tree that had fallen into the water near shore; and he was slowly tipping over in the canoe, while emitting sounds of distress. As I watched him tip over in slow motion, I yelled out: “I will jump in and rescue you as soon as I quite laughing”!
In Dan’s version – as I exited the canoe I pushed it backwards into the current, carrying him directly into the ‘punji sticks of death”: which seems a tad over-dramatic to me.
Eventually, I stopped laughing, and Dan emerged from under the canoe. We set the canoe upright, retrieved our bag, and headed back into the water; retrieving more of our items that were now floating IN the water as we went. Once we were recombobulated, Dan suggested that we go out into Lake Superior… That’s right, Dan wanted to go out into the cold depths of Lake Gitchigoonie… right after capsizing our canoe in 18 inches of water. Instead, we decided we’d had enough canoeing for the day – and stopped at a restaurant for a nice duck dinner.