After I had finished munching on some grub and cleaned the place up a littlee to keep the bears away, even though I knew the chance of one showing up was slim to none, I roused the General with a good shout. He slowly looked up and half opened his eyes. "I'm crashing man, you sleeping under the stars tonight?" He inhaled deeply and said "Nope".By the time I turned the last lantern off he was almost snuggled into the old fart sack, and sleeping before I finished zipping up the tent.
I awoke a little before 7:30 the following morning and thought a hot cup of coffee would go great after a good healthy piss. I glanced over at the General and he looked like he hadn't moved since the night before. I think he may have opened his eyes when I zipped the tent back up, but I'm not sure. I decided to let him sleep in as much as he wanted because there was no real hurry for the days adventure. We had all the time in the world to get to Little Minnow so rushing was not a priority.
After coming back from the tree line with an empty bladder and a strong hankering for a warm cup of java, I had to stop and take in the moment. A pair of ducks, I think mallards, was swimming down the river as a loon called from somewhere in the rice paddy. The sun was gently warming up the land and casting dancing sparkles on the river's surface as a soft breeze kissed my face. I stood in marvel of God's creations and thought that there was absolutely no place I would have rather grown up. I love Northern Minnesota.
It didn't take long to get the coffee going, but by then the wind had picked up and the river valley was tunneling it right into our campsite. With the coffee on I proceeded to stoke the fire a little so we had a place to burn the garbage. I only feed it small at first and then once I had a steady flame I added some larger pieces. I kept and eye on the coffee, but still wasn't seeing any steam. Then I heard a pickup.
I lit a smoke and watched as two dudes pulled up with a john-boat in the back of a maroon crew-cab Ford. They looked to be in a hurry too because before I knew it the boat was in the water and one of the dudes was parking the truck. He hoped out and literally ran to the boat which the other guy had already had fired up. They took off up river and as they got to where I had a good view of them, I was a bit shocked to see the guy in back standing, holding onto the tiller of the motor. The really weird part was that the prop shaft was long and looked like it was coming off the back of the motor at a 45 degree angle. I later found out from the General that that is what is called a beaver motor. The guys looked at me and waved, so I waved back. I watched them weave back and forth up the river through the big rice paddy until they reached the tree line and disappeared. I looked over at the coffee...still nothing so I stoked the fire with a little more wood.
I grabbed a bottle of lemon lime Gatorade, my notebook and a pen. I felt like doing a little writing at the time, so I did. It wasn't a lot, and I will probably share it here sometime, but not today. The Gatorade was ice cold, but still wasn't a good cup of coffee. I decided to investigate the problem. I always keep the top off until she just begins to boil so I can turn it down and prevent an overflow, however, as soon as I got to the table I realized what my problem was. The wind, although not bad at all, had picked up enough that most of the heat from the propane stove was being blown away. Unlike my good old Coleman stove that has a built in wind block, the General's collapsible stove dose not which meant I had to make one. It was more a pain in the ass than it was tough. Needless to say ten minutes later I was once again sitting in my chair toking on a smoke and sipping a cup of black silk coffee.
Around ten the General finally had to get up. With a solid eleven hours of sack time, he spent the first in his chair the night before, he was ready and able for another day on the river. By this time I had grub going and was working on my second cup of joe. The dudes when had gotten on the river earlier with the beaver motor had already returned and were long gone.
We shot the shit while I finished cooking up the grub. We ate a meal of sausage, scrambled eggs and toast...wait a minute. We didn't have toast...the General had forgotten to bring it, a fact I never let him forget. I don't think I'm ever going to let him live that down, even though it was something kind of minor. The big kicker was that he said he thought I was going to bring it until I had him check his list and eat his words.
It wasn't long after breakfast that we got into gear and decided to get the show on the river. It wasn't that we were in a hurry, but I think we were both a little excited to get back on the Bigfork because this was all new turf with things to see we have never saw before. It was a touch amazing on how quickly things went back into their designated spots and homes when one does really downsize. Like I said we only brought what we really needed to have a comfortable trip. Within a half hour all was packed and we were working on securing the tarp to the top of the canoe.
We had decided to film our launch and then pull over at the landing so the General could run back and get video camera. Sad to say that we hung the camera in a tree and as we were launching a gust of wind shook the tree and knocked the camera shot off the mark. We got some, but not all. Next the Trail to Little Minnow.
Until then I will remain Crazy Joe...
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