AUTHOR’S NOTE: The intent of this column is entertainment, usually at the expense of truth and accuracy, but I sneak in some good information as well. It is up to the reader to distinguish between entertainment and reality amidst all the circumlocution and misdirection in these sketches.
Q: What is the difference between paddling in East Texas rivers and paddling in Central Arkansas rivers?
Ken coming out of phase one of a Trinity River Put-In
Ken and Bruce enabling a Trinity River Put-in (continued – now in the middle of Phase Three of six)
Q: Are there any other obvious differences?
A: Well, the scenery and the clarity of the water are different.
Q: When the aft canoer says “hut”, what is the bow canoer supposed to do?
A: “Hut” is the code word in canoe racing that means bathroom. When the aft canoer shouts “hut”, the bow canoer is supposed to look diligently for a bathroom and head toward it with all possible speed, because the aft canoer has to go to the bathroom. You’ll notice that the aft canoer repeats this instruction faster and faster as they approach a bathroom. It’s a sign of desperation. A curious and little-known fact is that it is always the aft canoer that has to go to the bathroom first. The scientific explanation for this is that the bow canoer is squeezed into a smaller space, and thus has more natural pressure supporting the infrastructure surrounding the bladder, helping him/her to not get the urgency signal in the brain quite as soon as the more comfortable (until now) aft paddler.
Q: What did A. A. “Pooh” Milne say that would be relevant to paddling?
A: “Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.”
I myself adopted this as my motto when paddling with Christy on the Pecos River a few years ago.
Q: Where is the best way to get into uncomfortably cold water – slowly or quickly?
A: This is a matter of opinion. I, personally, like to get it over with, so fast is my personal preference. There is a wickedly clever variation of the “quickly” methodology, aka the “it’s too late” procedure, as illustrated below:
Q: What is a “wet exit”?
A: This is when the aft canoeist has been chanting “hut” too long, and, quite suddenly, the urgency to get to a bathroom has diminished significantly. When the team finally gets to a place where they can get out of the canoe, the aft paddler is, well, er, wet. The rather pathetic response to any questions about his/her condition is usually something about being an astronaut and reverting back to the diaper strategy for inconvenient calls of nature.
WORD OF THE MONTH: Infracaninophile
One who loves and roots for underdogs (competitors at a disadvantage)
Used in a sentence:
We both became instant infracaninophiles, willing all of our considerable energy to the aerobatic osprey clutching his cenatory fish as the bald eagle closed in on him, matching him move for move.
THE LOCH NESS BEAVER and the DUCK
After semi-daily visits to our pond since August 30, I have not seen the beaver again. However, mirabile dictu, a duck has adopted our pond, and by extension, has adopted us as its God-given source of food. Based on my wife’s rigorous application of the scientific method (it is what you want it to be), it was conclusively determined that this was a girl duck, and the duck was promptly named Alice (no relation to our Club recorder). By equally rigorous and objective technical assessment, (who cares, what difference could it possibly make?), I remained silent. This is a precedent that has served me well whenever I remember to do it, which is not nearly often enough. At this point I risk legitimate accusations of discursivity, and I return to the main topic. The only logical conclusion based on the above set of incontrovertible facts, after removing all of the irrelevant facts, is that Alice ate the beaver.
GOOD ONE:
MUG O’ THE MONTH:
OVERHEARD . . .
It is all about having the right balance:
PARTING THOUGHT:
