We're Back and Blue...

Well all, we are back from our Thirteenth Annual Memorial Weekend Canoe Trip; the trip didn't go the way we planned. It started out great, Duckie, The Mule, Mule's Man, Em and myself assembled Thursday night at my parent's cabin. We got all our gear ready that night, to save time getting things just right for loading into our canoes the following morning. I even went as far as to pack, and repack all of our gear in our canoe to make sure everything had the perfect spot for the trip. The key to loading a canoe is to keep your gear low and balanced. Canoes can become very tippy if they are loaded wrong. This can become quite a problem when attempting to shoot any rapids because if you gear is too high, the canoe become top-heavy, if the gear is too heavy one one side or the other, it can throw off the balance and make the canoe lean towards the heaviest side.

After our gear was set to go, we celebrated The Mule's birthday and the happy couples recent wedding with some terrific fried chicken and a coupe of bottles of wine, then it was off to bed.

My anticipation was so high that I barely slept a wink that night. Em and I had to get up a tad earlier so we could bring my dad to work that morning. I did this so he could then pick up my truck after work, thus leaving none of our vehicles in the town of Bigfork. I whipped up a couple of fried eggs and a few slabs of toast for my breakfast, Em wasn't hungry, so she just had Mountain Dew. By the time I was done eating, the rest of the gang were up and preparing thier breakfast before the trip. Then my Dad, Em, and I took off in my Explorer with two of our canoes in tow.

We dropped the Old Man off at work and headed for the public access to the Bigfork River, before we had gone a mile from the hospital, problem number one arose. As Em and I crossed the Rice River bridge, I rolled my window all the way down and stuck my head halfway out, something was wrong, the trailer was making a funky grinding noise.


"Do you hear that," I asked Em. She paused in the middle of a puff on her smoke.

"No, what is it?"

"I think a bearing is going out on the trailer."


Sure as shit, the moment I took the corner next to the Bigfork Village Hall, the bearing cover popped off and tinged down the road way. I stopped and picked up the bearing cover, thinking to myself on what I was going to do. I knew the trailer was in no shape to make the seven miles back to Effie and I didn't want to leave it sitting at the landing because there wasn't a lot of parking. Being that it was the start of Memorial Weekend, I didn't want to be rude.

Nonetheless, I decided to continue with the plan to leave by 9:00 AM, it was only 6:45, so I had time to come up with a solution.

We got to the landing and I backed the trailer down to the water to unload the canoes and our gear. Em worked on unpacking the Explorer and I got the canoes off the trailer. When that was done, Em took a walk to the local gas station for some hot coco and to use a modern bathroom for one last time. I was going to pull the truck up and start loading our canoe.

As I mosied down the ramp I came across a horrible sight, while pulling the Explorer and trailer up to the parking area I ran over my good can cooler, crushing it flat. With a few choice words I picked it up and chucked it into the garbage bin. "At least I brought a back-up," I said to myself.

Shortly after Em returned, Ducking, The Mule and her man showed up in Duckie's Durangoo, smiles hanging out of the windows. She backed it down the ramp and we all pitched in to get it unloaded. Then like a well oiled machine, we set about get our canoes situated, waiting for the General to arrive.

At a quarter after seven, I started to get a little worried that we would once again miss our departure time, the General wasn't there yet. He told me the night before that he would either be waiting for us at the landing when we arrived or he would be there by seven. At 7:32, the General pulled up in his navy blue Suburban with his yellow canoe strapped to the top. I gave him the traditional meet and greet of a handshake and the phrase, "we made it again", we started to unload his canoe and gear.

By 8:00, Duckie and the mule were headed to the gas station for our last stocking of ice and the General had the makings of what looked like a green baby hippo laying in the middle of his canoe.

"I thought we were going to down-size this year?" I joked.

"I did," the General replied with a slight grin.

"I guess, last year's hippo was twice that size." I shook my head.

"It's all in how you pack your gear."



While we were waiting for the General, I had got in contact with my Dad and told him about the bearing. He told me to take it over to a friend's house and leave it there; he would take care of it when he got off work. However, as I expected, he stopped in on a mail run to check out the stituation while the girls were on the ice run. The problem of the trailer was solved and we were still on track to leave at 9:00.

Once all the coolers had their fresh ice in them and all the gear was securly tied and bungeed into the canoes, Duckie, Em and The Mule took off for Effie in the trucks, two to be left at the folk's home and one to bring them back. As I said before, Dad was going to use that one to get home after work.

They got back to the landing with fifteen minutes to spare, The General was finishing up with some minor adjustments to his gear, The Mule and her man, James, were doing the same. Our gear was all tied in and covered in a blue tarp to help keep things dry and my new diamond willow paddle was reading for its maiden voyage. By 9:00, Em and I were pushing off from the shore, Mule and James were getting ready to do the same, and Duckie and the General were still adjusting varios items, still the same old General.

The First Launch of the Weekend

As with every year, the initial launch of the trip was a harrowing, sitting in a canoe was a little different because they always feel tippy at the start. Both Em and I agreed that it felt like the canoe was leaning towards the left. It baffled me because I could not come up with what would be throwing off our balance. I dismissed it and cracked open a beer. I was probably just the fact that we hadn't sat in a canoe for almost two years and needed to get back our river legs, or butts if you will. As Em and I drifted under the Bigfork Bridge, praying we didn't get shit on by the hundreds of barn swallows that call the bridge home, I snuck a glance back at the rest of the canoe. Both canoes were in the river, the trip had officially begun. I smiled and took another swig from my beer. Life was good.

To Be Continued...until then I will remain...Crazy Joe