G
Guest
Guest
Ha, nothing, I pack from a list!
Obviously not true. I (ummm, “We”) have forgotten things, including the kids clothes on one trip.
We were on a longish wandering road trip that included a week paddling the Adirondacks. The kid’s clothes were in stuff bags, ready to be dry bagged when we launched.
I was seriously not even out of my canoe at the campsite landing before my wife discovered our children would be naked more often than usual. Which, at that age, was saying something. I unloaded my boat, paddled back to the launch for the missing stuff bags and paddled back to camp, turning a 6 mile day into 18.
On the good side camp was neatly set up when I returned, so that was a win.
On the weird side we had chatted with the paddling Ranger at the far end of the lake just before making camp and he was perplexed when I encountered him once again later in the day as I began paddling back.
I have witnessed lots of companion’s memorable forgotten gear mishaps. Friend R borrowed a canvas wall tent and poles from his sister. Sadly, not the right poles for that tent. He, his girlfriend and eventually a helpful group of a dozen friends tried every dang which way to use those poles with that tent.
Nope, no way, no how, not gonna happen, so the tent was eventually tied and strung sort of upright with haul lines tossed over nearby branches. It was a sad, crumpled rumple of semi-erect canvas, the Salvador Dali of canvas wall tents.
It looked much worse the following morning when R and his girlfriend slept in, and his companions hatched a plan to release all the haul lines on a silent one-two-three NOW count.
I have a photo of R emerging rather disheveled from that pile of canvas. He looks hung over and unhappy.
He should have used a list, and checked it twice.
Obviously not true. I (ummm, “We”) have forgotten things, including the kids clothes on one trip.
We were on a longish wandering road trip that included a week paddling the Adirondacks. The kid’s clothes were in stuff bags, ready to be dry bagged when we launched.
I was seriously not even out of my canoe at the campsite landing before my wife discovered our children would be naked more often than usual. Which, at that age, was saying something. I unloaded my boat, paddled back to the launch for the missing stuff bags and paddled back to camp, turning a 6 mile day into 18.
On the good side camp was neatly set up when I returned, so that was a win.
On the weird side we had chatted with the paddling Ranger at the far end of the lake just before making camp and he was perplexed when I encountered him once again later in the day as I began paddling back.
I have witnessed lots of companion’s memorable forgotten gear mishaps. Friend R borrowed a canvas wall tent and poles from his sister. Sadly, not the right poles for that tent. He, his girlfriend and eventually a helpful group of a dozen friends tried every dang which way to use those poles with that tent.
Nope, no way, no how, not gonna happen, so the tent was eventually tied and strung sort of upright with haul lines tossed over nearby branches. It was a sad, crumpled rumple of semi-erect canvas, the Salvador Dali of canvas wall tents.
It looked much worse the following morning when R and his girlfriend slept in, and his companions hatched a plan to release all the haul lines on a silent one-two-three NOW count.
I have a photo of R emerging rather disheveled from that pile of canvas. He looks hung over and unhappy.
He should have used a list, and checked it twice.
