Hey, thanks for warmin' 'em up, Al! I know the real reason you float with me is the incomparable entertainment value I provide. In case anyone is wondering, serviceable oars can be manufactured using frame rails, livery paddles, cam straps and Gorilla tape. However, I can verify first hand that said serviceable oars do not, I repeat NOT, float. More on that later. First, the cast: Deuce in his daughter's purple Mad River Explorer, new friends Kinneth and Trenton Wallace in their newly acquired Arkota, Mark Seabaugh and his son Jack in a fourteen foot Star raft, a few otters, numerous birds of prey, and a herd of wild horses.
Friday night before Saturday's predawn departure Mark and I began rolling the raft for loading. It was still inflated because we had poured Flexseal Raft Sealant Kit into the tubes the previous Tuesday and I wanted to be sure it was cured by Friday. The instructions say it's important to exchange the air several times to release solvents. I did exchange the air a couple of times, but apparently they really did mean several, because when we started rolling it was mighty tacky in there. I was concerned that it might not reinflate, but under the circumstances we decided the thing to do was roll, load and take our chances, but I couldn't shake my trepidation, so later that night I took it upon myself to load the frame that goes with my raft just in case. In order to do that I had to remove the oars, which I leaned against the fence confident that I'd remember to strap them back on top of the frame for transport. Need I say more? Four hours into the drive I looked back at the trailer for the 7800th time but from a different angle and espied an empty spot that should have been occupied by oars.
We arrived at Cedargrove around 11:00 (the time I had told Al we'd probably launch) and commenced the gong show that is our rigging procedure. Al won't admit it, but I know he was eyeing my new paddloars. I told him the patent was already pending, but I don't think he believed me, so I charged Mark with preventing him from getting too good a look until we could get them out of R&D and into the patent phase. I think he took me a little too literally, but more on that later. Al and Ana were very gracious and good humored throughout the debacle and we finally hit the water around 12:30. We all stopped for a late lunch below Welch spring, then they left us because there were others waiting for them at the takeout. We straggled down to Akers later that afternoon, and since we had already resolved to camp in that area Kinneth, Trenton and I went ahead to find our home for the night. We had a nice fire going (hand sanitizer squirted on leaves will burn long enough to ignite a big pile of sticks FYI) by the time the raft came into view. As soon as they were within ear shot Jack proceeded to snitch on his dad. It seems Mark had reached for another beer against his son's counsel and one of my beloved paddloars slipped into the cold depths of the river never to be seen again (at least not by us).
Undaunted we proceeded to set up camp, which Al might posit resembled the town of Eminence both in size and appearance. Mark cut a sycamore sapling (don't tell the ranger) for a new oar shaft then started dinner while I set to work on dessert. We frogged our sides with steaks, taters and banana cake around a white man fire and watched our party dwindle slowly as one after the other drifted off to bed. The next morning was chamber of commerce beautiful. The Donaldsons and their friends Bob and Carol paddled up to camp around 9:45 as we were attempting to recover from the morning's gluttony. We shoved off an our later for an oustanding day of floating including a long stop for photos of us all paddling/paddloaring/sycamoaring
into and out of the cave. I can honestly say the previously recounted 36 or so hours are the best I've ever spent float camping.
I chatted with a couple who had hiked into the cave and they advised me that Monday's fifty percent chance of scattered thundershowers had become a ninety percent chance of rain and winds in excess of twenty mph. We held council at Pultite and determined the sensible thing would be to push as far as possible the rest of the day so we wouldn't be forced to battle the weather any longer than necessary on Monday. The Wallaces and I finally pulled up to a spot at 5:45 Sunday evening and settled in to await the arrival of Mark and Jack. Once they made it in we unloaded as little as possible and had a late dinner and hit the sack. The next morning they took a head start for Round Spring, which turned out to be under two miles down river, so our plan had worked out well. The rain never materialized, at least not while we were still in Missouri, but the wind was as bad as feared. I had loaded bow heavy in anticipation, but it was still a battle. Kinneth and Trenton were trimmed a little better since they were paddling tandem, so hopefully they didn't struggle as much. Mark said he and Jack fared better than expected. Their head start must have allowed them to miss the worst of it. I later learned the sycamoar had escaped his grasp under further dubious circumstances but floated a little better than the paddloar with EMT shaft and was subsequently recovered. We've resolved to preserve it intact for posterity.
We rendezvoused at the take out and Mark, Jack and Trenton derigged while Kinneth and I went after the trucks. A few hours later we were loaded and strapped down. We said our goodbyes and hit the road. I was looking forward to a burger and ice cream in Mammoth Spring (I highly recommend Jilly's Diner on 63 if you're not in a big hurry). We waddled out of there and hit the road for home, surprising our families by arriving well before dark.
Friday night before Saturday's predawn departure Mark and I began rolling the raft for loading. It was still inflated because we had poured Flexseal Raft Sealant Kit into the tubes the previous Tuesday and I wanted to be sure it was cured by Friday. The instructions say it's important to exchange the air several times to release solvents. I did exchange the air a couple of times, but apparently they really did mean several, because when we started rolling it was mighty tacky in there. I was concerned that it might not reinflate, but under the circumstances we decided the thing to do was roll, load and take our chances, but I couldn't shake my trepidation, so later that night I took it upon myself to load the frame that goes with my raft just in case. In order to do that I had to remove the oars, which I leaned against the fence confident that I'd remember to strap them back on top of the frame for transport. Need I say more? Four hours into the drive I looked back at the trailer for the 7800th time but from a different angle and espied an empty spot that should have been occupied by oars.
We arrived at Cedargrove around 11:00 (the time I had told Al we'd probably launch) and commenced the gong show that is our rigging procedure. Al won't admit it, but I know he was eyeing my new paddloars. I told him the patent was already pending, but I don't think he believed me, so I charged Mark with preventing him from getting too good a look until we could get them out of R&D and into the patent phase. I think he took me a little too literally, but more on that later. Al and Ana were very gracious and good humored throughout the debacle and we finally hit the water around 12:30. We all stopped for a late lunch below Welch spring, then they left us because there were others waiting for them at the takeout. We straggled down to Akers later that afternoon, and since we had already resolved to camp in that area Kinneth, Trenton and I went ahead to find our home for the night. We had a nice fire going (hand sanitizer squirted on leaves will burn long enough to ignite a big pile of sticks FYI) by the time the raft came into view. As soon as they were within ear shot Jack proceeded to snitch on his dad. It seems Mark had reached for another beer against his son's counsel and one of my beloved paddloars slipped into the cold depths of the river never to be seen again (at least not by us).
Undaunted we proceeded to set up camp, which Al might posit resembled the town of Eminence both in size and appearance. Mark cut a sycamore sapling (don't tell the ranger) for a new oar shaft then started dinner while I set to work on dessert. We frogged our sides with steaks, taters and banana cake around a white man fire and watched our party dwindle slowly as one after the other drifted off to bed. The next morning was chamber of commerce beautiful. The Donaldsons and their friends Bob and Carol paddled up to camp around 9:45 as we were attempting to recover from the morning's gluttony. We shoved off an our later for an oustanding day of floating including a long stop for photos of us all paddling/paddloaring/sycamoaring
I chatted with a couple who had hiked into the cave and they advised me that Monday's fifty percent chance of scattered thundershowers had become a ninety percent chance of rain and winds in excess of twenty mph. We held council at Pultite and determined the sensible thing would be to push as far as possible the rest of the day so we wouldn't be forced to battle the weather any longer than necessary on Monday. The Wallaces and I finally pulled up to a spot at 5:45 Sunday evening and settled in to await the arrival of Mark and Jack. Once they made it in we unloaded as little as possible and had a late dinner and hit the sack. The next morning they took a head start for Round Spring, which turned out to be under two miles down river, so our plan had worked out well. The rain never materialized, at least not while we were still in Missouri, but the wind was as bad as feared. I had loaded bow heavy in anticipation, but it was still a battle. Kinneth and Trenton were trimmed a little better since they were paddling tandem, so hopefully they didn't struggle as much. Mark said he and Jack fared better than expected. Their head start must have allowed them to miss the worst of it. I later learned the sycamoar had escaped his grasp under further dubious circumstances but floated a little better than the paddloar with EMT shaft and was subsequently recovered. We've resolved to preserve it intact for posterity.
We rendezvoused at the take out and Mark, Jack and Trenton derigged while Kinneth and I went after the trucks. A few hours later we were loaded and strapped down. We said our goodbyes and hit the road. I was looking forward to a burger and ice cream in Mammoth Spring (I highly recommend Jilly's Diner on 63 if you're not in a big hurry). We waddled out of there and hit the road for home, surprising our families by arriving well before dark.
