And we both emerged dry and relatively rested.
Only half the course was available because of bridge construction, but it was about enough: I’ve been so tired. But I went with OGS’s husband, Steve, and Steve II, (his best buddy) in another canoe. Steve paddled. I did the bow-bit, for the most part (except one tree) serenely inactive. Jane was with the guide. And THIS time we were actually there for the instruction, learning that bow doesn’t do anything, and the propulsion and most of the steering comes from the rear, not the front. We learned not to go to the middle of the river, (neither of us 2 years ago had ever managed a boat on moving water), but to follow the current at the edge, and to BACK out of trouble if you get pushed into a tree.
We had a very sedate good time. It was the hottest day of the year and the river was about to be crowded, which meant most of the wildlife had run for cover, but lead boats saw a couple of muskrats, while we saw a flock of merganser ducks take after a scattering school of minnows, and come up with one. Mergansers are probably the reason we saw very few young ducks—only one teenaged duck in our whole transit. They’re carnivores. But they’re handsome birds, and their charge underwater is just amazing: we had mergansers going every which way across our path, each set on a different fish, and they raised a wave above as big as they were!
I did see what could have been an otter slide: I think you’d have to be on a quiet day and floating very still to see them.
No moose in sight, but they’re out there. The ultimate not-funny comedy I could think of would be some novice coming around one of those tight bends aimed right at a feeding moose in mid-stream. But wildlife and the canoeists do get along.
We all went to dinner at the converted steam plant, which has made the most of its machinery and catwalks; and went to the Davenport hotel for drinks in the Peacock bar, which has a beautiful glass ceiling, art deco style, of peacocks. At which point we were suitably exhausted!
I am glad you had a better time than two years ago! When Gent and I hauled you and Jane out of the water at the end of that trip, you both looked so tired and frustrated (and wet).
Congratulations on a fantastic safe, and exhausting event.
Spokane and the Glorious Pond have done you proud. Rest.
So, given the previous entry… is it as much fun if it’s not a near-death experience?
I reached a certain point yesterday when I just went face down in the bean dip and woke convinced that the sunset was sunrise.
Nothing beats otters for sheer fun! Karma shmarma; I always wanted to be reincarnated as a river otter. I used to spend hours watching them every chance I got.
Note: Jane is still asleep, and it’s one in the afternoon.
We exhausted ourselves,totally.
I am glad you had that much fun!
Sleep is for the weak — the week after con!
Jane is awake, but I tried to murder the fish—I set the pond to fill, airheadedly (or sleepily) forgot to set the timer, and ran out to a disaster. I had also forgotten to put dechlorinator in, and the poor fish were huddled near the waterfall, which fortunately wasn’t running. We have a leak in the weir, and got some aquarium cement to fix it, but the fact I now had to run the pump to both empty the excess and circulate the dechlorinator meant I had to jump the gun on ‘done’ for the curing of the glue and fire up the filter and pump. And meanwhile there are no clouds and algae had, with the circulation shut down, started making curtains in the pond, so I have it running and hope it cured long enough, considering the heat.
I am stupid-tired. I can’t work. And Ysabel, who hates having her schedule disturbed, bit me while I was grooming her this morning—no blood, just an expression of her delight at being shut in the room for 3 days. These things cross her little kitteh mind and she just reacts. And you say cats have no memory. They have a fiendish memory, and for them, it’s all realtime and karma, baby, karma!
Meanwhile I’m so stupid I can’t even run a fishpond decently.
Fortunately for my not poisoning us, we are having leftovers this week. Bigtime. OSG, if you want hamburgers or potato salad, we can manage at the drop of a hat.
CJ, I wonder if you could bodge together an automatic level maintainer from a toilet float valve. You could hide it under the bridge, perhaps?
I have thought of doing that: simple to do; but unfortunately I need to measure exactly how much fresh water goes in and deliver dechlorination liquid; it would take a dedicated 500 gallon tank of dechlorinated water, which I could also bodge out of interconnnected Brute trash cans in the basement; but it just wouldn’t be economical, since I’m losing up to 200 gallons a day. I think part of my trouble is a gasket in the waterfall filter that I know is leaking to the outside: it’s the cushion in the waterfall weir itself. By my calculations I should lose half that, max; so the other half is leakage, and the prime candidate is that gasket.
I used aquarium silicon on that joint today, after lowering the water in the waterfall filter and drying it off with a towel in the hot sun, and hope I got it. I was not happy to have to turn the circulation on prematurely, but chlorine is nasty stuff, and if that circulating filter had been on (the waterfall) with no dechlor, it would have been bad, because all the water would have had chlorine: as was, the fish had all gone as far from that city water inflow hose as they could get, and since I had put it in the deep end by the skimmer, they had the whole length of the pond to retreat, about 15 feet. So I think it just ‘smelled’ bad and they got away from the chlorine; I don’t think they near got the full effect.
But once I added the dechlorinator, I had to mix the water, and the pump was the only solution. That and draining out about 100 gallons of surplus that had run in because I failed to set the timer.
Darn, darn, darn, I hate it when I’m stupid.
Is the timer movable so that it is closer to the action?
It always helps me to get a necessary sequence in close proximity so I don’t have to think or remember. But that’s me.
More sleep will probably help too. you have earned it.
PS. hope book and pics please for many years to come.
Ysabel was perfectly behaved the entire weekend whenever I saw her — no signs of ill humour then. Obviously saved up, as you comment.
We are, however, covered in bug bites. I wonder if we have chiggers in the Pacific Northwest—we did lug the canoes through shoulder-high grass. I can’t believe mosquitoes: usually you spot at least one in the act.
I have a number of very nasty mosquito bites. No chiggers in this area, at least that I’m aware of.
I meant to mention: I caught caught mosquitos in the act.
Ah. Well, we’ve got some good ones.
If chiggers have moved north from Texas, never mind global warming: the Apocalypse has come! You had chiggers in Oklahoma? Eeeeeee. IIRC there’s a difference between chigger bites and mosquito bites. Visibility, for one thing, and there’s a quality of itch.
I didn’t know mergansers ate anything but fish. I still like them. There’s been a hooded merganser/goldeneye hybrid adult drake at Lake Merritt in Oakland for the past couple of winters. Amazing bird. Bill has characteristics of both species; he eats mussels, like a goldeneye.
Chiggers….nasty little bugs…burrow inside the skin, cause all sorts of problems getting rid of them. Chigg’rid is/was like clear nail polish, would suffocate them and then the body’s natural defenses would break down the corpse. I had them badly after a Boy Scout camping trip in Indiana, along with poison ivy.
As for going downriver, I like my closed cockpit watercraft. It weighs 64 pounds empty, but then, I’ve weighed it down with pump, paddle, mooring line, etc. I just like paddling with a kayak much more so than a canoe.
I prefer my kayak too – much easier to manage with one person, and much friendlier in waves and wind – though I’ve done a fair amount of canoeing and have had my share of crazy canoe experiences. I think my partner thought my family was nuts when we dragged her out on the Little Spokane one year around Christmas/New Year’s. That trip was pretty uneventful as I recall (and quite pretty with the snow) – but there were other times we ended up on a relative’s doorstep to warm up after a cold rain. We also went canoe-camping at Upper Priest Lake in Idaho one year at New Year’s – which culminated in sliding the canoe over snowy beaches on our return – and another year in April when we ended up having to chop our way out when the ice cover on the mostly-frozen lake shifted and blocked the Thorofare. With my kayak, well, the most exciting was a trip under a low highway bridge infested with EXTREMELY LARGE spiders (hearing the paddle blade slice through spider webs is not a good sound), past a sewage treatment plant (ew), and then climbing and hauling the boats over a small dam (which we hoped wasn’t going to open right then). Or the day with 2-3 foot waves on Lake Ontario, though that was mostly only exciting when trying to land on a rocky beach and finding myself being propelled at high speed towards both the rocks and a pier while balancing rather tippily on the crest of a wave.
I caught two mosquitoes, and missed a bunch more.
I am not barge boy despite the proclamations of the queen of denial(aka Ready)! We did have a great time on the river as well as the rest of the debauchery. We have arrived home safely despite side trips through Bozeman, Yellowstone and Sundance WY.
We are SO happy you had a good trip! 😆 We had a great time. This year was remarkably void of scary situations, except a raft of mosquito bites.
Heh. I came through the entire trip unscathed, then managed to give myself tendonitis while wheeling my backpack off the plane.
But it was SOOOOOOO worth it!!