I know there's an old thread about this somewhere. Maybe someone can point to it. I think Jimbo mentioned people using bentshafts backwards. I'd link to it but it seems I don't remember any useful words at the moment.

Have at it.

Puckster wrote on Jan 6^th, 2010 at 12:12am:

Somewhat related story...(stay with me on this...)  This might be a good segue to a new thread...the most stupid things you've done in canoe country.   prouboy

Prouboy,

Make a slight change in the header of your new recommended thread to, "The Most Stupid Things You've SEEN in Canoe Country" and I promise you some rich material.

It seems to be my lot in Life to appear at the right place at the right time for all sorts of weird happenings & goings-on.. which is suggestive of yet another possible thread re: "The Weirdest Things You've Ever Seen in Canoe Country".

Jimbo   8-)

OK, I'll start it off. Maybe a moderator can move this if one of you guys start a new thread.

One guy sitting in the bow seat facing the stern and the guy in the stern seat facing the bow.  :-?

jimmar wrote on Jan 7^th, 2010 at 12:48am:

One guy sitting in the bow seat facing the stern and the guy in the stern seat facing the bow.  :-?

Hey, wait a minute   (You need to Login or Register That's my wife BTW ;) but whenever I have a passenger and we're just fishing or out for an evening paddle, anytime one person's paddle power is sufficient ... it's so much easier to carry on a conversation, and fish, ... pass things, add facial expressions to whispers....


I split this off not because I was asked but because it reminded me of a story I have tucked away and I may need to refer to it someday so I'll keep it fresh by sharing. One very windy day a big group was camped in the narrows of Pickerel (Q). Three of the girls decided to have a race to see who could paddle the Grummans solo, into the wind, through a whitecap choked chute. It was windy!

They battled, seemingly forever, a good half hour at least. The lead switched more times than anyone bothered to count. Every time one of 'em, through sheer will, pulled ahead, she'd hit the pinch, lose control of the bow and weathervane to WAY back of the pack.

After a very long time of getting nowhere with no end in sight, after the rest of us thought - just give it up already - one of the girls tried a novel idea. As she weathervaned for the umpteenth time to the back of the pack, she turned around in the bow seat leaving the rest of the canoe wagging behind her. She proceeded to paddle right past the other two, who in turn, turned around and did the unthinkable as well. All three made it up the chute. It was pretty impressive to watch.


There are one or two times on every trip I'll mutter to myself: "Well that was stupid." I try to avoid people though so few might see whatever lapse in judgment I had. Even the guys in the garbage bag rain gear looked like they were having fun so I'm not real quick to judge. Hey, if it works....

jimmar,

Re: Your guy-in-bow-facing-guy-in-stern sighting

I'll "see" your hand & raise you one.  See page 9 of this story:     (You need to Login or Register

Hey, maybe it was the same dude???

Anyhow, observing these clowns was a priceless canoe country experience.  By the way, Stu Osthoff "omitted" this particular page from the story of mine that he published in the BWJ a few years back.  Alas, that guy is always yanking the very juiciest parts of stories I send him!!  Differing tastes, I suppose.

Fortunately, db has no taste......

Jimbo  8-)

Faking a diabetic attack.

On Cedar Portage into Jesse Lake (2007), a teacher leading a Toronto high school group staged a fake diabetic attack for them to deal with. In my opinion, this would be more appropriate at camp or anywhere other than on the portage.

--Goose

In 2007 coming back from Prairie Portage, there was a ruthless wind coming up the Moose-Newfound-Sucker chain generating 2' whitecaps.  I was very glad we had the outfitter tow us back, as it was definitely a day to stay off the water if you could.  

As we rounded the bend on Sucker, we saw a hapless yet determined group from the Boy Scout Base.  With a father in the stern and 2 small kids in middle and bow, he no doubt was following "canoe gospel" that the weight should be more toward the stern.  I guess he was fine with the tailwind.  However, once his direction change, he was battling a headwind.

After his canoe swung 180 degrees from where he wanted to go, the dad stood up, turned around, and like Washington crossing the Deleware, put one foot on his seat, and paddled standing up.  I hope he was heading toward shore to repack and distribute the weight, but I wouldn't be surprised if he paddled the mile to Prairie Portage that way, entering Canada as a conqueror!

:-? Two parents encouraging teenage sons to portage approximately 2 foot square x 5 inch thick rock slabs out of Q, to use for their "patio" at home.  
:o Same group fills up the aluminum canoe at the end of the portage and go to push off, Mom is in front, not quite sat down yet.  Guys give the canoe a good push and it immediately comes to a complete halt on a submerged rock (we all know how well an alu canoe slides on rocks).  Mom is launched head first into cold shallow water onto a field of underwater rocks...not a word was uttered, I guess because of the shocked audience of strangers watching.

Good stories.  Funny, weird stuff.  

But I'd suggest we try laughing at ourselves, and share the stuff we really aren't that proud of!  Really dumb things we've done, not seen others do.  This might narrow the topic too much, but it would be a good exercise in self-deprecating humor!   (If you're up to it....)

prouboy

Camped on island site on North Bay of Basswood one very warm July day. Four of us on a layover day just passing a lazy afternoon. Three of us sitting in the shade when we realized that our fourth hadn't been seen in awhile. Both canoes accounted for; nobody snoozing in a tent. Where could he be? Called out: no answer. Quick check of shoreline; nope. All fishing gear accounted for. Finally found him about 50 yards away on the far side of the island. Wearing only his BVDs, he was lying on his back in shallow water with his head propped on a small flat rock, his hands folded over his chest, hat slightly over his brow...absolutely sound asleep and snoring like a chainsaw.
I remember laughing so hard my stomach hurt.

::) On a trip down the Basswood River with a novice kayaker, we were lining down rapids instead of portaging.  She was having a hard time lining her boat and walking along the ledgerocks and finally dropped her rope.  We weren't at the next rapids yet so I, being still in my boat, chased it down and got the rope to her.  Not, unfortunately, before I was caught in the tow of water that would pull me down over the drop in the rapids.  Quickly deciding I had no alternative I paddled like mad to gain speed and went over the rapids, with no prior preparation.  Luckily it was a low water time of year so it wasn't too wild.  I bottomed out on one rock, but not hard enough to hurt my kayak and made it through upright and mostly dry  :-[.

Puckster wrote on Jan 12^th, 2010 at 12:15am:

...I'd suggest we try laughing at ourselves, and share the stuff we really aren't that proud of!  Really dumb things we've done, not seen others do.

Ooooh. Ooooh I got one!

I think it was my second or third solo trip.... I had just finished Elizabeth to Jesse or some similar longish (yet flat and easy) portage. I just remember that at about the time my shoulders were screaming for two trees I could wedge the bow into I met people coming the other way so pride came into play....

An hour or so later, once the canoe was all loaded up and we were set and ready to go, I decided I wanted a Snickers. Arrrgh!

Knowing the dayfood pack didn't have any left, I pulled out the food pack and grabbed the second half of my supply and culled two before replenishing the dayfood pack with what remained. I vividly remember closing the main foodpack and turning to sit down on it while ripping one open. After taking a bite while/and admiring what I had just accomplished  -  I looked up only to find out that my canoe had left w/o me. DOH! Both fishing rods and even paddles were in the boat.

FWIW - I don't expect that to ever happen again. When solo, that boat is everything to me. I'll flip it on portages and tie off both bow and stern painters when stopping for a Kodak moment or just a few hours but I will ALWAYS tie it down overnight. Always. Watching your canoe play na-nah,-na-nah,-na-nah, and "nah nah nanana" are two completely different things - especially if solo or a party of two.

DB: is this the one you were thinking of?

  (You need to Login or Register

I do think there is yet another similar thread here someplace.

Back in 06 or 07 my dad and I went up to the Q for our annual trip. I think we were on Shade lake at the time ( or another in the S chain with a LARGE hill behind the campsite on a penninsula...possibly Burke). My dad got up really early one day for his morning constitutional and hiked up the hill with trowel and TP. He dug himself a nice hole and dropped trow to admire his view from a truly magnificent thrown. Just as he was finishing up he heard a buzzing. LOTS of buzzing. His calm looking around for the source soon became alarmed panic as he saw not 6" from his freshly filled hole was a hornets nest in the ground. To this day I don't know how he didn't get stung but when he got back to camp he was still white with terror with what could have been a truly awful bee sting. I don't even know what we would have done to treat him had those hornets decided to attack his nether-regions.

To this day however, it provides quite a bit of comic relief and I assure you he checks about a 20' square area before picking a place to fertilize the woods now. ;D


BTW, what a great thread

Your dad was indeed lucky Drewfus!  I was up in Wabikimi, way back in.  Nature called for my friend, and back in the bush he went.  In just a few minutes he came crashing out of the woods (I've never seen him move so fast.)  Turns out he dug his hole over a nest of ground bees.  Didn't know it til too late.  He had 27 bites, from his legs to his head.  Bees were chasing him out of the woods!  Fortunately, he wasn't allergic, but ever since, I carry an Epi pen!  

prouboy

Puckster wrote on Jan 12^th, 2010 at 12:15am:

Good stories.  Funny, weird stuff.   But I'd suggest we try laughing at ourselves, and share the stuff we really aren't that proud of!  Really dumb things we've done, not seen others do.  This might narrow the topic too much, but it would be a good exercise in self-deprecating humor!   (If you're up to it....) prouboy

Prouboy,

You asked for it, you're getting it!  This is taken from an account of my very first trip to the Quetico/BWCA:
**********************************************************
We broke camp on our tenth and last day in the pre-dawn twilight, surrendering the site to the fishers. Tired and frustrated from our lack of sleep, we wound our way slowly along Nina Moose Creek, making our way towards our appointed rendezvous with our outfitter. Our thoughts drifted to civilization and to the first beers we might be able to get our hands on. Little did we realize that the Quetico held one more "newbie revelation" for our small fleet, adding insult to the injuries already sustained by our pride.

A weathered little old man, sporting ragged clothes, a white beard, and a baseball cap glided towards us easily in his solo canoe, apparently just heading into the Park. His short greeting quickly deflated what little self-respect we had accumulated as paddlers during our ten day trial.

"Hey, fellas!" he chuckled. "Why don't you flip those bent shafts around and use them the way they were intended?"

Ugh. We had never seen bent shaft paddles before this trip. I suppose it might be reasoned - in some universe - that the proper application of a bent shaft paddle is not exactly intuitive. Regardless, we had a full ten days and a 50-50 chance of making a correct decision on this question. Sadly, as newbies to the Park, we got this one wrong, too. Yikes!

Humbled, but wiser in the ways of the North, we flipped our paddles around and resumed our trek homeward. Somewhere, not far ahead now, there would be cold beer in which to drown our sorrows.
**********************************************************

The full story appears in QJ's "Stories" section.  It's called "Wet Behind the Ears".  Might well have been entitled, "Dumb & Dumber".....

Jimbo  8-)

I know your not the only paddlers that did the same thing ;)
One of the first time's I met QD, it was with the 3 other guys I used to trip with. While in Dave's Outfitter shack, paying our bill and getting fishing licenses and paddles, one of the guys picked up the "new" bent shaft paddle and was doing a "air" paddle demo of it.

Dave started laughing and told him that he had it backward :-[
Sad thing was, the next day on Beaverhouse, that guy and another one, Insisted on using them backward, arguing that it "seemed" better and that Dave didn't know what he was talking about :(

Another reason it was time for me to become a solotripper ;D

Jimbo -- GREAT story!  You're fearless.  I love it.

I will admit to a great anxiety during my first trip into the BWCA.  Went in on Round Lake, and just screamed through the trip til we took out at Seagull.  Was always worried about getting lost, intimidated by the big water, and in general just intimidated by the "wildness" of it all!  I couldn't wait to get back to a road, a truck, and civilization.  Ugh.

Not a "funny" story, but it fits in the embarrassing category I guess.

prouboy

Gimp -  ;D That's close, and useful (thanks) but I thought there was a longer one that made me a bit uncomfortable as a lot of things listed were, well, arguable.

Hey Jimbo - While I associated the backwards bent concept with you, I had thought you had just seen it somewhere. (Mine has a definite power face so it was obvious.)

A friend of mine, strong paddler, always kept his stroke for way to long and would even dig in at the end way past his hips. We'd bob down the lake and perhaps I'm not good at constructive criticism or he's really not good at accepting it. I finally gave up and my girlfriend and I bought him a BB bent for his 30th birthday. (She was a great bow paddler) Problem solved.

That reminds me of another unfortunate incident I not like to repeat. Her and I did a rather long day of paddling towards the end of a trip in May. The distance wasn't anything special but it was cold, rainy windy.... She had handled snow quite well in the past and our destination was THE favorite campsite of a friend of mine. This was back when descriptions/directions didn't even include maps much less waypoints. The part of the description I remember most was "keep going until you think you went to far and it's a little past that." Something like that anyway.

We paddled around quite a while until the clouds finally ripped open and just dumped on us. We called it quits and took the nearest campsite saying tomorrow's another day. She set up the tent and I the tarp, hung food and played with a belligerent snapper for a while.

I finally wondered what she was up to so I went to the tent: "Hey, are you sleeping?" The answer I received could best be defined as a whimper and a scary sounding one at that.

I don't remember how it went down but I opened the tent to find her sitting in the middle with everything piled high around her and she's crying and mumbling about there being water in a corner.

I wiped up most of what little water there was with a snot rag while asking where the towel was to give her something to do. Some Snickers followed a long hug and basic encouragement. Hot coco followed that and a freeze dried and blazing fire finally got her out of the tent and after fried fish she wasn't shivering anymore.

We found the campsite we were originally looking for the next day. It would have been perfect the day before. Other than the fireplace it was nothing special beyond the rather old garbage heap in back. It was a reedy swamp so the location was pretty awful IMO. The man did like to cook though so....  [smiley=thumbup.gif]

This is more of a mental error instead of plain lack of knowledge, and it pales on the amusement scale compared to an anchor in a pack or using paddles backwards, but on an early trip some dude with a new tent was making a big show of putting up the aforementioned tent.

All finished, he unzipped the rain fly to get inside and met a "wall." Seemed he put the door on the other side of the tent.

"Flaps go on the other side, flapboy," someone helpfully called out.

Henceforth, doing something stupid in the Q (sitting on your glasses, misreading a map, snipping off the working end of a line or rope instead of the standing end, or using the Nalgene with the clear liquor in it instead of the one with water to mix up pancakes, which happened this past trip) has been referred to as "pulling a flapboy."

-- kypaddler

As far as other groups, we generally try not to snicker too much at the things we see. Lord knows what other people think of us.

To prove his prowess, in 2006, QP revealed his penchant to carry precut RR ties to cook the first nights brats..., after they had served their initial purpose as 'pack extenders'. ;D

Never carry anything that isn't multi-purpose. ;)

On my first trip to the BW I was with my girlfriend.  I had just bought a very expensive fishing rod for this trip and kept reminding her to be extremely careful around it and to hold the tip upright when crossing a portage.

Well on the 2nd day as I unloaded at a portage I stubbed the new rod into a rock and broke off about 6 inches.  

Embarrassing wasn't the word.  She's now my wife and still gets a laugh out of something that happened 25 years ago.  :-/

Now here's an episode from a trip through southern Pickerel Lake a couple years back that I ain't particularly proud of:

***********************************************************
Humming away, we sighted the sandy beach and stroked our Souris River towards the campsite. It was almost empty—.

That's where we first saw The Creature.

"Yo, Jimbo!! Look! Under those trees by the beach!!" cried Matunik in a hoarse raised whisper.

I saw IT alright, sitting on a fallen log. Its sharp-eared face was slightly turned on its torso. The biology teacher twisted around to face me in the stern, still pointing excitedly at the figure.

"Bubo Virginianus!!" he declared.

"Bobo what?!" I responded, perplexed. I wondered if he was looking where I was looking.

"A great horned owl, Jimbo!!"

Yes! That's what I saw! Not a Barred Owl or a Gray Owl— this was a Great Horned Owl! Its head remained cocked ever so slightly to the left, facing us but not moving an iota. This was an incredible wildlife find, right off the bat! The large predator was perhaps 30-40 meters away, sitting right in the middle of the camp. We stealthily glided closer to the beach to get a better look.

Totem-like, it sat on the log, unblinking, unmoving— eyeballing our approach.

Trying not to make a sound, I slowly reached for and retrieved my digital camera from the pack strapped to our thwart. Deliberately, I aimed and snapped a couple shots as we drifted ever closer. Meanwhile, seated in the bow, Matunik did his level best to elicit a response, expertly cupping his hands together and softly calling, "Hoot ~ hoot ~ hoot!"

Nothing.

"This is spectacular, Jimbo! Did you get that shot?! Did you— ummmmm, ut-oh."

A LONG pause.

"Ummmm—" he continued. "Oh, brother—."

An even longer pause followed. Momentum carried our canoe silently forward until it scoured sand and slid up the beach.

"Yeah— oh, brother", I repeated from the stern, shaking my head in disbelief.

Whacking the side of his head, Matunik half-laughed, half-sighed, "Pretty sad, ain't it?! We're getting OLD, Jimbo!!"

"Blind, anyway" I moaned, nodding. I consoled myself, however. Secretly, I latched onto a notion that MY ancient eyes had detected our mistake first.

"A hunk of wood!" barked Matunik. "A hunk of wood!! Dang it... gotta get my eyes checked!"

Yet another pause. "Ummm, Jimbo... you don't think those other guys heard me, ummm— hooting, do you?"

"I kind of doubt it, Chief— they're pretty far back." Pause. "But hey— I snapped an excellent picture of you attempting to charm that hunk of wood off its roost."

"Very funny—."

We beached our vessel, grabbed our lunch pack, and sat down right beside "Bobo", as I came to refer to him. I patted him on the head. "Nice Bobo", I said, as if to my cocker spaniel, back home.

We continued to stare at our folly while we munched on sausage, crackers, and cheese. The others began to arrive at intervals and set-up their tarps and tents. Before long, the teenagers had a twenty-foot Wenonah out in the middle of our cove. Despite one very sore foot, they jumped overboard, carefree, splashing about, again and again and again.

By then, Matunik and I had abandoned Bobo for a much sunnier spot on the beach.

*************************************************************

This comes from a story called "Nothing but Blue Skies" that QPassage put out in his "Wilderness Passages" CD-based magazine a couple years back.  db recently put it up on the QJ Stories page.  Yikes, twenty-plus Q trips under my belt and I'm STILL capable of such bone-head stuff!  

I think the "power of suggestion" is particularly noteworthy in that little tale.  Matunik "saw" that damned owl first and made his comment.  My brain immediately filled in the blur/void before my eyes and shaped it in my mind as his stupid bird.  I was absolutely dumbfounded when reality kicked back in.

Oh, well.  Like I'm fond of saying: NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE MORON FACTOR!

Jimbo  8-)

AWE! I do this all the time. But then it those times that we are right that we live for right, poor vision or not. The moose that turns out to be a rock in the water mirages of high summer. Or the bear swimming across the lake that seems to be a log treading water, or vice versa. Or maybe.....the maybes are grand aren't they. MOron factors not, just a maybe that turns out to be not! Maybe, maybe not, maybe...oh man...how did I make that into what I did. Simple fun...bliss!

WTF are you talking about?  You know that local grown shit will kill you.

What is WTF? LOcal grown what?  :-[

[quote author=marlin55388 link=1263195047/20#25 date=1263866596]What is WTF? LOcal grown what?  :-[/quote]

OK PJ, Reel him in...

Jimbo:

I've been seeing bears in the woods for 50 years. Somehow they morph into overturned stumps. And I've got pictures to prove it.

Tim

Oh man the drag is screaming its a hog!

Nah - I just cut the line.  Looked like one of those redhorse.

A couple of years ago our group was doing some fishing on Hudson Lake and as we were heading in to a inlet I was so sure there was a guy sitting on a little bit of an island. It totally freaked me out, but as we got closer it was just a tree and bushes. I wonder what I would have done if I had been alone!!! :exclamation

I'm sure I have many of these to potentially add...

Once when speedily re-filling the stove and slightly spilling some fuel, I went to light the stove and ended up with a flaming hand instead of a burning stove. Thankfully the fuel I spilled on my hand went out with a few quick waves of the hand.

I have trekked through a few floating bogs that had me standing on top one second and then neck deep in the water the next. It really freaked my sister out one time, she thought I had just stepped off the face of the earth and disappeared forever.    

ryanmbeal...you darn near might have

Posted by: PhantomJug      Posted on: Jan 23rd, 2010, 10:13pm
Nah - I just cut the line.  Looked like one of those redhorse.

LOL

Hey, there's some newer voices chiming in- Welcome!

Back when a friend (same one that received the paddle I mentioned earlier) and I started bringing wives and girlfriends, his wife somehow used Tang as the au gratin part of some boxed potato mix (and Tang was never part of group food anyway). I don't know who's it was but I know it wasn't packed with the scalloped potatoes.

This was a long time ago but as punishment we probably made her do dishes that evening. I remember she used over half of the soap I packed thinking there was a little bottle like that for every day. Ummm nope, but it was still plenty.

To make up for things, she made breakfast the next day. The bacon was fine. The scrambled eggs, made in the same pan, were inedible. You could almost blow soap bubbles after the third bite. To this day I can't fathom how the bacon was fine and there was enough residual soap left in the pan to ruin the eggs - unless maybe they were scrambled in a separate pot or something instead of the pan? Huh, never thought of that possibility 'till tonight. Maybe that was it. I've told this story here before but I can't find it. I'll have to ask if she or the other three I'll see soon remembers the particulars. One of 'em is turning 50 next week and the paddle was a 30th b-day gift a few years later.

Jimbo wrote on Jan 16^th, 2010 at 9:19pm:

Now here's an episode from a trip through southern Pickerel Lake a couple years back that I ain't particularly proud of: "A great horned owl, Jimbo!!" Matunik did his level best to elicit a response, expertly cupping his hands together and softly calling, "Hoot ~ hoot ~ hoot!" Nothing. "Yeah— oh, brother", I repeated from the stern, shaking my head in disbelief. Whacking the side of his head, Matunik half-laughed, half-sighed, "Pretty sad, ain't it?! We're getting OLD, Jimbo!!" "A hunk of wood!" barked Matunik. "A hunk of wood!! Dang it... gotta get my eyes checked!" Yet another pause. "Ummm, Jimbo... you don't think those other guys heard me, ummm— hooting, do you?" Jimbo  8-)

;D ;D ;D ;D 2-1/2 years later, I got my answer....I knew that was not a real owl that I heard.....my ears were not playing games on me 8-)

I just thought of another humbling experience, this one belongs to myself however. Two years ago I was in the Q on Louisa on I think the 2nd or 3rd island headed north from the falls with my old paddle buddy. The night before we had some nasty weather so we had decided that lightening our load by drinking down some of the rum ration was a fantastic idea that would pay us back later in the trip due to lighter packs. In theory we were well sounded. However, the next morning, paddle partner was snoring away and I decided a dip in the lake would be a good start to the day and cure the slight headache I'd acquired. I stripped down, found a nice rock to launch myself from where it was nice and deep. (keep this part in mind as I'm sure you can visualize about a 3 foot drop into the water with deep water surrounding this piece of rocky shoreline for about 20' either direction). I hit the water, feel its fresh cold attack and come to the surface and start to swim towards shore. One problem...I can't get out. The rocks I jumped off of in my morning fog of a brain were higher off the water than I could pull myself out on. So here I was wearing my nothing but my birth-rite trying to scale a basically sheer rock wall. After several slightly painful, extremely embarrassing (thankfully it was late summer and NO ONE passed by, I can only imagine PJ, DB, or Jimbo paddling by and seeing the rare two-toned skinny water sloth and the comments that would illicit) I swam around to the canoe landing and scampered back on shore with very little dignity left, but thankfully very little hangover as well.

Drewfus wrote on Jan 27^th, 2010 at 9:14am:

I can only imagine PJ, DB, or Jimbo paddling by and seeing the rare two-toned skinny water sloth and the comments that would illicit)

No, this is usually when Holly Armstrong paddles by and wants to see your camping permit.

Sometimes we like to turn our bent shafts backwards when we're meeting someone on the water just to see if we get any reaction....

Some years ago on my very first trip into the Q, on the second morniing at a very nice island campsite in Agnes, I dropped the jar of instant coffee and dumped pretty much all of it on the ground. Fortunately, they make the individual packets now, but back then I was decidedly unpopular, given that we had about 7 more days with no coffee at all. I'm pushing 20 years with the same group of guys, and I was stunned I was ever asked back even the second time!

wrote on Feb 26^th, 2010 at 9:44pm:

Some years ago on my very first trip into the Q, on the second morniing at a very nice island campsite in Agnes, I dropped the jar of instant coffee and dumped pretty much all of it on the ground. Fortunately, they make the individual packets now, but back then I was decidedly unpopular, given that we had about 7 more days with no coffee at all. I'm pushing 20 years with the same group of guys, and I was stunned I was ever asked back even the second time!

Where's the problem?  Just sweep it up back into the jar the best you can and use as usual.  Whatever doesn't dissolve is clearly not coffee and can be filtered with your teeth as you drink.

Thank you, Snow Dog--I suggested that! The good news is, we're still generally the same group, if not a bit older! Going up through the Horse River, laying over in Crooked this summer...

Yes, it's a little known fact that the term "duffer" actually is rooted in the word "duff", for the mix of organic soil and decaying plant matter found on the forest floor in canoe country.

Historically, the duffer was the person in each canoe who had inadvertently consumed the most duff and thus was currently the least fit to paddle.

This also illustrates the importance of bringing a "jug" for medicinal purposes.  Strong alcohol will neutralize most of the ill effects of excessive inadvertant duff consumption for those who have not yet mastered the art of using teeth as a filter.

Hmmm..after 25 years, I'm still the duffer! But I do make sure I have plenty of the old medicinal  ;D

Guy I know used to like to put on a Groucho-Marx rig -- heavy black glasses, mustach, very large nose -- when paddling towards other parties, then stay just far enough off to keep em wondering...

Eat fish pizza.

Lessee.... first trip into the BW/Q.  Had novice family in tow.  Now I've done a fair amount of outdoors trips, but always on my own two feet backpacking.  Never canoeing, and I never needed to put food up in a tree to foil the bears.

So... doing as the outfitter advised, I found a suitable rock, tied it to the parachute cord, and promptly heaved it up into a fork in a tree.  Darned thing got stuck.  Y'know how p'cord stretches pretty good?  Well... you guessed it!  I pulled and pulled, and eventually the rock came loose.  And beaned me on the right temple as I tried to duck.  Had a good sized goose egg for a day and a half!

I use a barrel now ;)  

Drewfus wrote on Jan 27^th, 2010 at 9:14am:

I can only imagine PJ, DB, or Jimbo paddling by and seeing the rare two-toned skinny water sloth and the comments that would illicit

That reminds me of a family tradition that dates back to our first trip up to the BW:  I was taking a shower where I *thought* I was out of sight.  My adult kids now like to retell the tale of their sighting the great and sacred "Albino Moose" to anyone unfortunate enough to accompany us on a canoe trip.

woodstripper wrote on Mar 9^th, 2010 at 3:40am:

Lessee.... first trip into the BW/Q.  Had novice family in tow.  Now I've done a fair amount of outdoors trips, but always on my own two feet backpacking.  Never canoeing, and I never needed to put food up in a tree to foil the bears. So... doing as the outfitter advised, I found a suitable rock, tied it to the parachute cord, and promptly heaved it up into a fork in a tree.  Darned thing got stuck.  Y'know how p'cord stretches pretty good?  Well... you guessed it!  I pulled and pulled, and eventually the rock came loose.  And beaned me on the right temple as I tried to duck.  Had a good sized goose egg for a day and a half! I use a barrel now ;)

Now this is why using a  "leader" of lighter weight line is a good idea when rigging a food line, it breaks before your HEAD does  ;D

solotripper wrote on Mar 9^th, 2010 at 6:27pm:

Now this is why using a  "leader" of lighter weight line is a good idea when rigging a food line, it breaks before your HEAD does  ;D

I have a forty foot pine tree in my front yard that I installed X-mas lights on this year with this method; light-weight leader and rock method.  All my neighbors wondered how I did it, they thought I brought in a basket-truck to get them up.

Fortunately, I didn't throw any rocks thru anyone's window.

starwatcher

starwatcher wrote on Mar 10^th, 2010 at 5:47pm:

solotripper wrote on Mar 9th, 2010 at 6:27pm: Now this is why using a  "leader" of lighter weight line is a good idea when rigging a food line, it breaks before your HEAD does  ;D I have a forty foot pine tree in my front yard that I installed X-mas lights on this year with this method; light-weight leader and rock method.  All my neighbors wondered how I did it, they thought I brought in a basket-truck to get them up. Fortunately, I didn't throw any rocks thru anyone's window. starwatcher

 The weight and rock method has been around for a long time. There's a fine line between a weight heavy enough to go thru some foliage and so light it hangs up and becomes a projectile coming back at the person who is unfortunate enough to be tugging on the rope :o

I was stationed in Germany 68-70 as a telephone lineman. We were trained to climb poles/trees and string the field phone wires. Slow and in bad weather potentially hazardous to your life.

 A guy who had spent his first year in Vietnam showed me how they did it in the REAL world ;) We stole/borrowed sash weights from the barracks windows. While the other two man teams were climbing trees, we were done with our assignment and looking for the nearest Beer stand ;D
I asked him were he got the idea from? He said in Nam, you climb a tree stringing wire, the Viet Cong snipers get another notch on their butt-stock!
We never told the other guys about are "technique". My Lt. was so impressed with our "work" ethic, he would hold us out of KP/Cleanup duty in case they needed wire strung in a hurry.

When he rotated home, I was a Sgt by then, and broke in my helper the right way. I imagine he did the same?

The beauty of this technique was not only was it fast, when it came time to take down the wire, instead of climbing and cutting ties, we just hooked to electric wire spool and sucked it up like a giant piece of spaghetti ;D

Last year, while deep in Quetico, we hadn't seen a canoe in three or four days.  We decided to establish a two/three day camp and enjoy some fishing in relative isolation from the rest of the world.  I set up the camp, and my husband set up the extras, such as the Solar Shower.   For the latter, he found a tree on a point right out into the lake.  Lovely view for our evening ablutions.  The next evening, after a very warm day of fishing and paddling, I decided to avail myself of a hot shower.  No sooner was I standing, in all my sixty year old glory, which means (as my son put it, you can't tell the stretch marks from the cellulite) a crew of young American Boy Scouts hove into sight.  What could I do but cheerfully wave as I tried to wrap a towel around my sagging body.
I wasn't impressed, and neither were they, as they obviousl paddled away from our shore.  I no longer assume that even the most isolated lakes are "private" and I now select the site for our shower stall!!

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Prior to this early morning photo, I had smoked tobacco (peacepipe) on the water next to some pictographs. I also burned some sage. Still have the same habits.
The morning of Sept 11, 2001 was dead calm on Agnes. After finding this old fireplace, something compelled me to write the 'poem' down,  I tore the page out of the notebook and put it in the fireplace. This was unusual behavior. As I was hiking back to the kanu I saw a bald eagle pluck a fish up and a seagull came charging in to try and take it. I remember thinking "you're f***in with the wrong bird".  
By the time I was back in the kanu and paddling near the picto's again the water was a maelstrom.  

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