The Beauty of Tradition

I'm going to start this entry off by being honest. I have recently gotten into a little bit of a writing mode in my life where I'm fascinated by the written word and all the fantastical power that is contained within them. I'm not going to go into some big spiel about this or that when it comes to writing, nevertheless, I have been racking my brain on things to say about this trip. Sixteen years man, a lot of shit has happened. Fights, fucking, friendship, adventure, and the occasional injury or forest fire are much of what has taken place on the river. I have reached a point, however, where I'm not sure as to what I should write. I have several factors that are working against me, number one is time. Like I tell my students, "Time waits for no man", meaning as the days and years pass, I'm going to forget this that and the other when it comes to remembering all the fucking adventures we have had. Number two, booze. For most of the years of this trip I have not been in a complete drunken stupor, but as I look back on all the trips, they sometimes tend to blend like a kaleidoscope to where I'm not sure what happened when or even the how. Last of all there is the fact that not everything that happens is worthy of the written word. For sure there is something that happens every year that is new and exciting, but as I reflect, I find it tough to come up with material to write about. It would be nice to get together with the crew and discuss this trip with a little bit of detail so I can take notes and reference it when I become low on ideas. So for all the River Runners that read this, which better be all of you cocksuckers, I would hope that you could share with me, or add it to the blog yourself, some ideas to share with whoever. This brings me to the topic of tradition.

This trip was started on a whim and has since transformed into something that has become meaningful to a lot of people. Every year there is a buzz that begins sometime in February and continues to grow like a pregnant woman until the birth of that year's trip. It sneaks up and happens so fast that if we blink, it is gone and we can only put in our time to wait twelve months to give birth again. But the true beauty lies within the people, not the tradition itself.

For me this trips marks the end of school, which at this stage of life means I go on vacation for the next three months. It means I am free to use the time at my leisure and so with it what I want. It symbolizes FREEDOM. Nevertheless, like I said before, that isn't the true beauty of this trip, it is really the people that make this trip special. They are the ones that make this trip worth taking every year.

It is such an awesome to see everyone arrive at my folk's cabin the night before the launch. We give the traditional hug and how-ya-doing greeting as the smiles light up the faces of old friends. We shoot the shit and discuss the year's route as we go through our gear. We talk about what we are going to "leave behind" this year because we are forever "down sizing" the shit we take in our canoes. There is such a warm feeling to this meeting that at times it almost makes me want to cry because the friendship and love is so sincere. I know, I know that sounds pretty fucking sappy, but there is truth to those words. If you were to ask any River Runner if there is even a spark of truth to that idea, they will have to say yes.

There is something to be said about bonding with thy fellow man on trips into the wilderness. Sure we are not doing this to test our survival skills by an means, we got gear with that would have made any mountain man of the early days of America praise the Almighty, but we do this to increase our bond with our close friends, even if it is down on a subconscious level. If this trip wasn't a special deal then none of us would want to come back year after year, no matter the conditions. We go even if it is going to be hotter than the blazes...we go even if we know it is going to rain most of the time...we go even if the river is going to be low and we have to work our asses off to get anywhere...we go because we enjoy the company and love that we feel from those we surround ourselves with.

I hope that through all the shit, all the goods, bads and uglies, those that are part of the crew will forever come on this trip. I want to pass it along to the next generation, my kids and the kids of those that enjoy this trip every year. I want them to feel the love and fellowship I feel when I gather with those that mean the most to me in my life outside my family I have at home. So no matter what, as long as the Lord above lets me, on Memorial weekend, of every year, you know where you can find me and the rest of the RIVER RUNNERS...celebrating another year on the Bigfork River with those that matter most.

Until next time I will remain...Crazy Joe