Solo Sucks
by Phantom Jug (continued from page 2)

I didn't know whether waking up the next morning was heaven or hell. The view was heaven but I felt like hell. I knew I had 2 long portages this day to get to where I wanted to be. The first one was a few hundred rods if I remember into a small lake called Townsend. This was a small lake with another hundred plus portage after it. The first portage went well enough given my physical state. I then started the second portage. Because I had that stupid water jug with me it prevented my from what would be easy "1 trip" portages. But, this time I decided to try and make it in one trip. So, I secured the paddle to the canoe, strapped on the packs and secured the water jug under the back seat and headed down the trail. About half way through there was a 2 - 3 foot down step between the rocks. Gingerly I navigated my right foot down the step with my left following. As my left foot hit the ground, the canoe was jolted on the stern end which caused my portage yolk to snap in half and the canoe slammed onto my head. (Insert expletives here) I put my gear down, found the Crown Royal and started drinking. After consoling myself for a while and trying to figure out how I was going to finish this portage, 2 older gentlemen, coming from the other way, stopped and surveyed my predicament. "Bummer." one said. "Bummer" I replied. "If you need a hand we can grab some of your stuff and help you on our return." I thanked them and told them that would be a great help at this point.

As the 3 of us stood at the end of my portage, one of the men noticed my water jug was identical to theirs so he inquired into what was inside. "City Water" I replied. "Whats in yours?" "Wine" he said.

Score after 2-1/2 days: Wilderness=4 Me=0 2 Old Timers=10