I feel the same as you all. It is a great distraction. I work in healthcare and appreciate a few moments a day to spend with folks who share this beautiful pastime and it puts me in a positive frame of mind.
Bob
Bob
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Happy National Garlic Day! 🧄🚫🧛🏼♂️
Different Times
- Thread starter dougd
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Proverbial crap? This a good group of people and I am happy to be back.
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This morning while taking my walk along the Kennebec ( yes I still leave the house ) I was pleased to see that the last of the ice that was clinging to the little coves had given up and flowed away.
There is something very special about the early morning along the river, and as I walked along the old rail bed next to the river I started thinking about canoes that I have had and used in the past.
One that came to mind was an odd looking plastic thing from Sear's of all places. It was yellow, not a pretty yellow, but more of a mustered color, and was made of two parts, an outer shell and an inner shell. It was also kind of heavy, but in those days ( the late 1960's ) that was no problem. The thing got plenty of use, but the two things that I most remember was using it on an almost open water paddle and the Down Hill Canoe Race at Squaw MT. Ski Lodge. OH YES, I said down hill, the ski area for a couple of years held a canoe race, not so much of a race as a let's see who can finish event. It was held toward the end of the season, I think that it was March, but it may have been in February, at any event we took the canoes to the top of the trail with the objective being to
ride the canoes down the ski slope then paddle across the holding pond below the lodge. Sounds easy, well to begin with the pond was solid ice ( no paddling here folks ) then there was the little and not so little issue of the moguls. These are the bumps that make skiing so interesting, not so much when you are in a canoe, does impact strike a note. The canoes would start one a ta time to make their run with the next one starting at what seemed a reasonable interval. At this time I will point out that all of the other participants were using canoes that were unwisely provided by a local guide service, we on the other hand were using my plastic canoe ( remember the moguls ). At any rate, we started from the top toward the first turn, Oh yes there were turns, so how do you turn a canoe on a ski slope, you hold the gunals and kind of hop it into a turn,kind of. All this as you are picking up speed, I mean real speed, and why would they place that mogul rite at the apex of the turn,well it was and we were airborne and closing with the trees along the edge of the trail. The thing to remember about this deal is that the trail is steep, and the mogul is high, some basic
algebra will give you an idea as to the distances traveled and the altitude obtained. At this point I noticed a nice new loner canoe half way up a tree to my left. At then the reality of what go's up
must come down set in with full force. My retarded friend in the back of the canoe ( let's face it who else would sign up for a stunt like this ) gave out a shout ( not repeatable ) I in the part of the canoe that was still in the air and listening to the odd sound that a plastic canoe makes as it tries to bend in the middle. then I too was on ground again and hanging on for dear life as we had come down on a patch of ice ( increase in speed ). Somehow we got through that first corner, but the ice wasn't letting us turn and here comes the next turn. I bailed out then noticed that my much wiser friend in the back had already bailed just as the canoe touched down from its flight, his exit had kicked the stern over just enough so that we, or I was able to make the corner. Now as I slid to a stop I could see the canoe going though the woods on its own adventure. That was the last year that the Ski Longe saw fit to host the event, several busted canoes mine included plus some broken bones put an end to that insanity. As for the plastic canoe, we recovered it from its journey in the woods and between the space heater and a liberal amount of epoxy it was back in service.
The other trip was the almost open water trip, well it looked to be open. It was march of something like 1974 to 76 we had an open winter and were anxious to get out on the water, We three of us decided that the Belgrade stream would be an easy first trip, we checked at the outlet at Messalonskee Lake, open water, then to keep it short ,Wings Mills dang, open, what could go wrong. About a little over a quarter of a mile we hit the first ice, now normanly in Maine at this time of the year the ice would have been between six to eight inches, but this had been an open winter and the ice was no more than skim ice. No need to turn back the plastic canoe with three paddlers could handel skim ice, and everyone knows that ice doesn't do well in moving water. So onward, we were doing well the plastic canoe would flex and displace the ice with a kind of crunching grinding sound and we were making good speed. that was when the first paddle broke, that coincided with
the point were the ice got thicker, that also was where the reality of the thermal conductivity of plastic was beginning to set in. We still, however pushed on, but slower the yellow ice breaker was doing well. About a bit over two miles is when the second paddle broke, who carries spare paddles, not us after all we had three to start with, now we have one. For some reason I always seem to be in the front of the canoe when these things happen. With me paddling in the bow and my friend John using the shaft to push against the ice, and his girl friend set serenely in the middle constantly reminding us of the current temperature in the plastic canoe we paddled and pushed about another quarter mile through the ice then open water and all was well. That yellow plastic canoe is long gone but fondly remembered.
There is something very special about the early morning along the river, and as I walked along the old rail bed next to the river I started thinking about canoes that I have had and used in the past.
One that came to mind was an odd looking plastic thing from Sear's of all places. It was yellow, not a pretty yellow, but more of a mustered color, and was made of two parts, an outer shell and an inner shell. It was also kind of heavy, but in those days ( the late 1960's ) that was no problem. The thing got plenty of use, but the two things that I most remember was using it on an almost open water paddle and the Down Hill Canoe Race at Squaw MT. Ski Lodge. OH YES, I said down hill, the ski area for a couple of years held a canoe race, not so much of a race as a let's see who can finish event. It was held toward the end of the season, I think that it was March, but it may have been in February, at any event we took the canoes to the top of the trail with the objective being to
ride the canoes down the ski slope then paddle across the holding pond below the lodge. Sounds easy, well to begin with the pond was solid ice ( no paddling here folks ) then there was the little and not so little issue of the moguls. These are the bumps that make skiing so interesting, not so much when you are in a canoe, does impact strike a note. The canoes would start one a ta time to make their run with the next one starting at what seemed a reasonable interval. At this time I will point out that all of the other participants were using canoes that were unwisely provided by a local guide service, we on the other hand were using my plastic canoe ( remember the moguls ). At any rate, we started from the top toward the first turn, Oh yes there were turns, so how do you turn a canoe on a ski slope, you hold the gunals and kind of hop it into a turn,kind of. All this as you are picking up speed, I mean real speed, and why would they place that mogul rite at the apex of the turn,well it was and we were airborne and closing with the trees along the edge of the trail. The thing to remember about this deal is that the trail is steep, and the mogul is high, some basic
algebra will give you an idea as to the distances traveled and the altitude obtained. At this point I noticed a nice new loner canoe half way up a tree to my left. At then the reality of what go's up
must come down set in with full force. My retarded friend in the back of the canoe ( let's face it who else would sign up for a stunt like this ) gave out a shout ( not repeatable ) I in the part of the canoe that was still in the air and listening to the odd sound that a plastic canoe makes as it tries to bend in the middle. then I too was on ground again and hanging on for dear life as we had come down on a patch of ice ( increase in speed ). Somehow we got through that first corner, but the ice wasn't letting us turn and here comes the next turn. I bailed out then noticed that my much wiser friend in the back had already bailed just as the canoe touched down from its flight, his exit had kicked the stern over just enough so that we, or I was able to make the corner. Now as I slid to a stop I could see the canoe going though the woods on its own adventure. That was the last year that the Ski Longe saw fit to host the event, several busted canoes mine included plus some broken bones put an end to that insanity. As for the plastic canoe, we recovered it from its journey in the woods and between the space heater and a liberal amount of epoxy it was back in service.
The other trip was the almost open water trip, well it looked to be open. It was march of something like 1974 to 76 we had an open winter and were anxious to get out on the water, We three of us decided that the Belgrade stream would be an easy first trip, we checked at the outlet at Messalonskee Lake, open water, then to keep it short ,Wings Mills dang, open, what could go wrong. About a little over a quarter of a mile we hit the first ice, now normanly in Maine at this time of the year the ice would have been between six to eight inches, but this had been an open winter and the ice was no more than skim ice. No need to turn back the plastic canoe with three paddlers could handel skim ice, and everyone knows that ice doesn't do well in moving water. So onward, we were doing well the plastic canoe would flex and displace the ice with a kind of crunching grinding sound and we were making good speed. that was when the first paddle broke, that coincided with
the point were the ice got thicker, that also was where the reality of the thermal conductivity of plastic was beginning to set in. We still, however pushed on, but slower the yellow ice breaker was doing well. About a bit over two miles is when the second paddle broke, who carries spare paddles, not us after all we had three to start with, now we have one. For some reason I always seem to be in the front of the canoe when these things happen. With me paddling in the bow and my friend John using the shaft to push against the ice, and his girl friend set serenely in the middle constantly reminding us of the current temperature in the plastic canoe we paddled and pushed about another quarter mile through the ice then open water and all was well. That yellow plastic canoe is long gone but fondly remembered.
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