Nice story

[Robin]

[h=5]A nice story by Nanook of the Nashwaak [/h]






The Good Ole Boys have always been there for me.
Many times over the years since I first took up the paddle, complete strangers have helped me and my buddies out of a tight spot deep in the woods. They appear magically out of thin air it seems, just when we need them most.
And once they save the day for us, they disappear back into the mist whence they came, existing only in my fond memories and undying gratitude.
I'll always remember the lads who drove in their pickup truck up to the other side of the padlocked iron gate. We were stranded on the shore of a southern lake, stuck behind the barrier some churlish dude had closed literally, yes literally, in our faces, leaving us no way out.
Seeing our predicament, the driver reached into a toolbox, produced a hacksaw, and within minutes, we sawed through that hefty hasp. Then he chained the gate to his back bumper, and the gate soon lay twisted and useless in the ditch.
We were free to go home. Served the dude right. I won't name the lake, probably the dastardly dude is still seething to this day.
Then there was the forest ranger who picked me up on the woods road by the Machias River in Maine. I needed to hike on foot back to our vehicle twenty miles away because the river had run dry and our supplies ran out.
He went out of his way, knowing he'd never see me again, yet showing me every kindness he could in my hour of need. He even drove five miles down a secondary road, depositing me two steps away from our vehicle.
I could go on to cite many more examples how the good ole boys came to our rescue, but just one more to prove my point.
We had come to the dam at Grand Falls on the Nepisiguit River. We were looking forward to lowering our boats and gear, and ourselves, down a cliff face into the gorge just below the dam's millrace. After all, we had performed this stunt with ease a few years back.
Imagine our dismay when we found our access to the cliff completely walled and fenced off by NB Power. Seems their lawyers had warned them about liability, and even a whiff of a possible lawsuit for injury is enough to scare the mightiest corporate beast.
We were faced with a multi-kilometer trudge with our boats and gear down a muddy track, when the pickup truck pulled up alongside. This time, the good ole boys invited us to load the bed of their truck with all our gear, and lash the canoes, all four, over their cab. We were spared at least half a day of back-breaking toil --- after all, we were a little older, maybe even gittin' on --- and it didn't take more than a nano-second to accept their kind offer.
They dropped us off at a spot where we could bushwhack down to the gorge, and we parted with a handshake and thanks. They wouldn't even accept a beer in return for their help. We hoisted a beverage in their honor around the campfire later that night.
These three examples are only a sampling of the many instances where the Good Ole Boys have come through for me. I only hope that some day I can return the favor and pay it forward. It's the least I can do.

 

[Iskweo]

It seems we may be " Good Ole Boys " . Karin and I once donated a bowsaw( nice new one) and spare blade to a group that was headed upriver after a nasty storm that left tons of blowdown. We figured they might need it to get where they were going. I was quite surprised that they didnt have one with them.

 

[deerfly]

Not that many people aren't truly genuine and helpful, but I think having "been there" themselves is what inspires most to offer a helping hand in the great outdoors. One harrowing or back breaking experience yourself is usually enough to know its always the right thing to do to help others in similar predicaments. I think of it as paying forward too. Having said that I will admit I have let some people learn a lesson...

 

[Guest]

Yin and yang of kindness shown.

It is interesting that the kindness shown to Nanook was preceded by some rude act or other inconsideration. Maybe there is some yin & yang to life.

We were on a canoe camper on Stillwater Reservoir in the Adirondacks with another couple (Ben and Kathy) and their children. Four tandem canoes, each with an adult and young child bowman. Our kids were all between 4 and 6 years old. We had selected an unoccupied site on the board at the launch and flipped the tag to occupied.

We loaded the canoe and paddled off towards our site on the north shore half way up the lake. As we approached the site, four canoes strung out in a line 100 yards away, pointed straight at the site, two motor boats blew past up, beached there and began hurriedly unloading gear.

We pulled up to the site and told them (a group of eight or so 20-somethings) that we had flipped the tag for that site. They insisted that they had done so, despite their hurry to get there first and quickly unload gear. That obvious untruth, and the fact that their motors were Evinrudes and ours young children mattered not.

They were not going to quit claim the site and continued unloading, so we paddled back down the lake, flipped another site tag and paddled back to a site on an island along the south shore. What had started out as a 4 mile paddle to the site was now a 12 mile out and back and out.

That site when we arrived proved to be the mudpit from hell, swampy, overgrown and buggy, with room for perhaps a single tent. Untenable and untentable for 8 people. This is not looking good.

We decided that this tag flipping business was nonsense, and Ben and I paddled off to find another unoccupied site before returning to the launch and flipping yet another tag, which would turn our initial 4 mile paddle in a 20 mile day.

There was another site on the south end of that island, but it was occupied by a gentleman in a powerboat. He has seen us paddle up and back and up the lake and asked what was happening. We explained.

His response was “Well, why don’t you two hop in my boat and we go find an unoccupied site”. We did so, and found a site that he declared to be “The best on the lake”. He then ran us down to the launch so we could flip yet another tag, ran us back to our families waiting at the mudpit and declared that he was going to motor over to the prime site and sit on it until we paddled over to claim it.

He was right, it was the best site on the lake, and one of the best early family trips. A few days later when he was leaving he motored over to our site, but not before he went back to the launch and bought a couple bags of ice as a parting gift.

He was a true gentleman.

I at times am not; I seriously considered paddling over to the 20-somethings site at 4 am when they were all asleep, untying their boats and setting them adrift with the drain plugs removed. Twenty years later I still kinda wish I had.

 

[lowangle al]

I met a moose hunter on a river who gave me and all my gear a ride back to my vehicle. A 25 mile round trip on a dirt road he didn't need to take. It added almost an hour to his 4 hour ride home. His good deed came back to him a few years later when I needed to get a furnace looked at.. Remembering that he was a plumber I gave him the job. He told me there was a cracked heat exchanger and it needed to be replaced, which he did, with the wrong size unit. I was never sure if there was a cracked heat exchanger or not, I couldn't see it. He said he was going to retire and I always wondered if he had that unit and needed to find a home for it.

Maybe the moral of the story should be," just because someone helps you in the bush doesn't mean they won't screw you in the city"

 

[Boreal Birch]

What kind of canoe is Nanook of Nashwaak paddling?
One early spring trip I left a big old Buck folding knife stuck in a log at a campsite at one of my then, secret Lake Trout lakes in the BWCA. A few days later at the take out, a couple of old guys were getting ready to head out. We asked where they were headed, horror of horrors they were going to our "secret" lake. I told them where our camp had been and that if they looked a bit they could find and keep my knife. The older of the two men asked me for my name and address, and if he found it he would send it to me. A few weeks later It came in the mail, no return address, no note, No way to thank them. So, I have been passing that wonderful lesson forward. I treat people the way that I would like to be treated, makes me feel good when I can do something for someone, even better, anonymously.

 

[Odyssey]

I've lent (given) stuff to people in need, though their need was marginal, never life threatening. I'm a little ashamed to admit I've had second thoughts "Do they REALLY need my beautiful new headlamp, rope, map, extra food, water bottle...?!" I give and then put it out of my mind. What the hell, it's just stuff. Stuff that may make a difference to somebody, or maybe they just forget about it and lose it on the next portage. And then there's the directions. I very much doubt I've ever saved anyone's lives, but maybe a little of their time. I'm not a Boy Scout, guide or good samaritan. Just an average no-body blending in with the scenery, but willing to step up. I believe it's safe to assume we'd all lay down our differences to help out a fellow tripper in their time of dire need. I've just never been in that situation on the giving or receiving end yet. I say a sincere thank you to all who've made that difference; someday I my be calling on you.
And yeah, very good point Birchy. My belief is if you can't give anonymously then you're not really giving.

 

[snapper]

I'd like to think I'd be there for anyone who truly needs a hand when out on a trip. The only time I can think of where I know we really helped a group was many years ago in the Adirondacks. We were camped on Long Lake, north of the village, in Catlin Bay. After dinner we were out on the water enjoying the view when a rag-tag group of canoes came paddling up towards the site. It was obvious that this was a mostly "kid" type trip with two college aged leaders accompanying them. They asked if there was any room and, while there wasn't much, they looked spent so we welcomed them in and helped them unload their gear. Eventually one of their leaders asked if he could talk with me. Of course I said, sure. He took me off to the side and asked me exactly where were they? He also wanted to know how long was it to Tupper Lake? Were there any obstacles along the way he should know about? etc., etc., etc.

After a while it came out that they were a children's camp group. They'd been put on the lake and told to be at the state launch in Tupper Lake in 4 days. That was it. No maps, no logistical help, no information, no nothing! I told him to go back to his group and after dinner to come back with a notebook and something to write with.

That evening we sat down with our maps and went over the entire route. I told him about the potential for lots of wind driven waves on the lake, how to enter the river at the north end, avoiding the entrance to Cold River, looking for the carry trail around Raquette Falls (he had no idea there was even a carry on the route) and everything else I could think of that would help him along the way. In the end, especially since I knew the trip I was on so well, I gave him my maps as well. Bottom line, it only seemed right.

I never did hear from them but I also didn't hear anything about a camp group getting lost or some kid getting injured so I figured it was a success in the end. I can only hope he went back to his camp and complained loudly about how ill prepared they were so no other group would ever be placed in the same position.

That's all for now. Take care and until next time...be well.

snapper

 

[memaquay]

Around fifteen years ago I was on a multi day trip with six other people. The trip proved to be quite demanding, and around day six I was out of cigarettes and booze. We had just crossed a hellish swamp port and everyone was pretty grubby looking. There was a major outfitting camp in the next bay, and when we pulled in, there were some Americans just getting ready to fly back out after a successful fishing vacation. They asked us quite a few questions, and I happened to mention that I was out of smokes and booze. Two minutes later I had four packs of Camel Lights and about 30 beer.

At camp that night we saluted the American flag and did our best version of the Star Spangled Banner, we were a sloppy bunch, but happy.

 

[Pbutkovich]

On the way to Marshall Lake a few years ago, my son and I hit a moose in our vehicle about a half hour away from Geraldton. I had made arrangements to meet someone that I had never met, just talked to a few times via email, in Geraldton the next day. I called to let him know that we would not be there because of the accident. He immediately drove to Longlac, taped up our broken windows, arranged to have a trailer dropped off in his driveway for us to spend a couple of nights in, fed us, took us shooting, helped us with a car shuttle an hour and a half north of Geraldton and wouldn't take a dime for anything!