Delaware River Camping in the Kayaks

Just because you have a staycation lined up, it doesn't mean you have to lock yourself in the cloying walls of your house. Get out and camp or kayak... or both! My wife and I took vacation time for the first week of August, strategically timed before the onslaught of craziness that precedes the beginning of the Fall semester at the university I work at. We had some housework in mind, as well as trips to Ikea and Campmor planned. We also had a three-day, two-night river camping trip on our itinerary.

The trip we planned would traverse the part of the Delaware River in the "other" part of the Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area that we haven't paddled before. That is the section from Milford, PA to Bushkill, PA. We planned to use riverside camping spots defined by the park's official map, which can be found here. The fact that we live in Delaware Water Gap means we spend much more time on the section from Eshback access to Kittatinny access.

Day One

We awoke at the crack of dawn, all items packed and boats loaded. Just kidding, we arose at 9 AM and began to get our shit together. After coffee. I had gotten most of the gear out and ready in the garage previously, however. We also had our food planned and I mocked up the packing strategy for the two kayaks and the "tugboat" (more on that later). It came down to just packing it all.

We did this trip self-supported, so we left a car at the Bushkill access point and continued north together in the pickup with the kayaks. The trip from home to the Milford access point is about 30 minutes, so we began the unload sometime after 3:00 PM after screwing around all day. One element of time that gets underestimated or beguiling is the portage of people and kayaks along the river to accomplish these things.

It was a weekday, so we had the access point to ourselves. This allowed us to unload and drag kayaks, dry bags, cooking gear, some wood, tent, sleeping bags and numerous other things down to the water where we could sprawl all accouterments about willy nilly. This helps in packing, trust me. We hit the water around 3:45 PM.

Loading the boats was smooth enough, as we had just done an overnight river trip the week before along with my brother. The presence of the tugboat was a key factor. The lovingly-deemed "tugboat" is really a product called the Kayak Kaddy available from a sports outfitting company. See the image below for reference.

The first duty of the tugboat was to carry cold food. I'd need to stuff a cooler bag inside. You can use a product like the Icemule dry bags, but we ended up trying to find a solution the day before, in our typical fashion of last-minute. I found a good 'ol 16-can Coleman cooler bag at the local hunting and fishing outfitter. It worked because I could remove the rigid inside bucket and stuff it through the hatch in the tugboat. Once inside, I began to stuff kabobs, hot dogs, a 64 ounce block of frozen chili, a bottle of dijon, a 12-pack caddy of eggs, a bag of nine hard boiled eggs and two freezer packs in before zipping it up and stuffing it into the rear (rounded part) of the tugboat.

Once jammed rearward, it extended just a smidgen past the lip of the hatch. Most impressive. The rest of the space was used for cooking gear and various other items. I don't remember precisely, but items such as a folding bow saw, coffee peculator and grill spatula and tongs. Top it off with whatever else miscellany and the tugboat is highly effective.

We paddled about five miles during this first afternoon, coasting under the bridge you see above that carries route 206 from New Jersey into Pennsylvania. This section of the river is quite calm, devoid of rapids or very shallow sections. We were heading for Namanock Island to camp. The map listed four sites available for camping, but it plunged the indicator unreliably smack in the middle of the island. We decided to travel the eastern side of the island in order to find at least one site there. We did find one site - it had no shore, a steep embankment and overgrown vegetation and essentially no view of the river.

If you're camping on the river, you want a view of the river. Another rule is that if you're camping on an island on the river, walk around on foot to scope out other, better sites on the other side of the island. We did just that and found a great spot that would just require us to round the end of the island and paddle upstream for about 50 yards on the other side.

We set up camp, pillaged dead wood, drank wine, cooked kabobs, watched the sun go down over the hills to the West and meditated over the campfire with more wine until bedtime organically fell.

Day Two 

We awoke at the crack of dawn. Just kidding, that's a re-occurring joke that will never get funny. I made coffee on the percolator after emerging from the tent around 8:00 AM, and we sipped that while staring at the water and feeling the heat rise for a few hours. We dug into the hard-boiled eggs for breakfast, standing around the site eating salt and peppered eggs. We packed intermittently until we hit that point of no return, where you go into full bustle. Everything jettisoned down the bank!

We probably shoved off around 11:00 AM. The daylight in the photo above backs up that theory. Had we known that the day's trip would be quite a bit longer than expected, we would have certainly busted a move earlier. In the end, we spent a long, hot and humid time on the river during the hottest part of the day. Part of that trip was traveling through Dingman's Ferry and the toll-bridge of its namesake.

The Dingman's Ferry bridge is a quirky toll-bridge with a wooden slat surface. It's quite unique to paddle under while vehicles consisting of several thousand pounds of metal drive across, rattling the boards above your head. We took a break at the Dingman's access point just after the bridge and refilled our water and wolfed down snacks under a tree while the sun blazed.

Our next target camping spot was ideally at the Jerry Lees sites, which were 7-8 miles downriver. We scouted the Hornbecks sites anyway, since several hours of paddling in the midday heat was a sweaty endeavor. I was looking for a good site with a decent swimming spot down below. The Hornbecks sites didn't work out. While spacious enough, not all had a good view of the river and the swim spots were murky at best. We continued on without much deliberation. Camping there would make for a longer trip for day three anyway.

We'd essentially pinned ourselves to the Jerry Lees sites. According to the map, those were a few miles downriver, so we kept our eyes peeled on the western shore, even through some rapids that were more frequently appearing. Hot, sweaty and tired, we increasingly just wanted to make camp for the day. It was late afternoon at this point. After a few sections of rapids, we came across the non-mistakable signs of a campsite on the shore. This was about right for the location of the Jerry Lees sites. We struck shore and investigated, but it appeared like these sites were decommissioned. No fire pit, no signage. It became apparent later on that the map wasn't updated. I took a dunk anyway, since I had accumulated several hours of sunlight and sweat and felt like this could possibly be the last chance until I got home.

We moved on. Perhaps the sites were just a bit down the river. We kept this optimism close to heart until we rounded a slight bend and realized with wide eyes that we were at the Eshback access. We were only four miles away from the endpoint. Motivations changed quickly here as we realized we would stake our night's claim in the waters just a few miles upriver from our destination. At least we knew these sites still existed, as we were back on home turf, so to speak.

The swimming is better here anyway! Less foot-sucking mud, and the water had cleared even more after the recent storms. We camped on an island within a mile of our destination at the Bushkill access point. It was roughly 6:30 PM, we knew this was the last stop. Aware that we had a short paddle the next day, we quickly set up camp in the space that was a bit off the river and took our camp chairs and wine down by the river to watch the sun go away another night, The photos above are within this moment, as we sipped wine and watched a few river stragglers slide by on this languid piece of the Delaware. We finished the night again with a campfire and heating up the chili on the camp stove and the brats on the fire, along with watching the fire burn down with whatever wine we had left.

Day Three

It was hardly a day at all. I made coffee again, just to prove we are human, after all, and relaxed at the site while drinking coffee, reading and indulging in that idle chat you have once you get into a good outdoor kick. We packed like reckless fiends and shot our boats out onto the water for the 15 minute paddle to Bushkill access. There was scant time to experience anything here, but I took a few photos nonetheless.

And now we were back to driving. Bushkill to Milford. Back to Bushkill to load the boats and gear. Back to our real home. Home, but not before stopping at the deli near the entrance to the recreation area. There was this customary post-camping hunger that we all feel. A little dehydrated, a little sun-crisped, a bit wild-eyed and sleep-deprived. I'll unabashedly admit I picked up a foot long turkey sub to go, which I devoured at home.

Getting home feels a lot better when you get out.

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Quick Ride to a Beer

Just a quick ride on my home trail and a beer on the patio near sunset.

Trexler Nature Preserve MTB 6/30/2016

Sometimes, you are motivated by curiosity and adventure, and sometimes, you are motivated by the aforementioned plus a deadline. Trexler has been a location on my radar for some time now, renown for its punchy singletrack and a particular roller coaster ride of a trail deemed "Kill Dozer". Kill Dozer was recently assigned to doom, by way of natural reassignment of the landscape, so I knew I needed to ride it before July.

I did. I rode it. Part of it. I couldn't get the links together to ride the entire thing, despite consulting GPS and trail maps. The way to the top of Kill Dozer was just obscured and obliterated except for those in the know. There was some new alternate route to reach the top of the celebrated trail.

Firstly, it was a beautiful drive to the trailhead through parts unknown to me through the greater Lehigh Valley area of Pennsylvania. We're talking rolling hills and farmlands with distant vistas of Appalachian mountain ranges. I rolled along through hilly rural roads and tiny-town intersections and almost got lost in some slightly decaying small town that nevertheless had a weird integral draw on my psyche.

Once that was all in my rearview mirror, I rumbled onto the access road to the trailhead. The trailhead itself unveiled itself as a hot, dusty, baking bit of parking lot. I got my shit together, oriented myself and hit the trail with my ever-so-luddite paper map and notes in my pocket.

It's not always super fun when you go your own way on a new trail system, but I had fun here. I could get into the swoopy and twisting singletrack for nice sections before having to halt and check my location. There are some great sections not far from the trailhead that have pump track-like elements as well as skinnies to ride. Certainly sessionable if you want to get some skills work in.

Killdozer, the part of it that I managed to ride, was as advertised. It was a toboggan ride that begged for balance and carving huge berms. Without knowing the course, I couldn't get all the lines right, but it was a blast. Big dips that lead into hearty smooth-packed banked turns were plentiful. We can only hope that this trail survives despite the park's decisions on foliage changes.

Trexler Preserve is a nice trail system, but we'll have to see what comes of the changes that are undergoing. Unfortunately, I made the trip there only after the trail system was irrevocably changed already. I'll post my wandering, discovering, halting GPS map below. I'll try to get back there sometime soon, after the literal dust settles after the park changes.

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Hump Day Kayak, June 29th

Sometimes, you just have to slam the door on work life and get the boats loaded up into the truck and do an evening paddle. Thwart all the "work night" warnings, and throw two boats on the truck and do a short float on the river to clear your mind.

We have this go-to trip, which is Eshback to Bushkill. Four miles. Float more than paddle. Drink a few beers. The river is glass at this time in the evening. The wildlife comes out to play. We saw two groups of deer playing and drinking at the water's edge, as well as a bald eagle coast across the river and roost in a tree on a high branch above the shore. There are ducks and beaver, doing their twilight thing, as we are. They are smart, in their own tiny brain reasoning.

We stare at computers, go to meetings, talk shop and then you float your boat on the river and you get dangerously close to figuring out that something here doesn't matter. I mean, just a little close, but you know it just brings you back to the mean. Some kind of math that's ingrained in our being. Something like how the animals of the forest plug their day away just surviving, but come to exalt at the evening light, and just enjoy that cool, calm evening.

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Camelback MTB Pushed a Few More Miles

There is a lot of stuff to ride at Camelback/SG38. You can put down some serious miles. I've been riding a fairly short loop of sorts, hitting the trails named Three Bridges and Secret. I was then meandering a bit through part of Birches and looping back to the trailhead. That was equating to something around six miles of rolling about the top of the mountain.

The best seat is at the bar

However, there are other "deer paths" that I haven't been hitting this year so far. You can rack up several miles on these sections as they wander from one jeep road to the next through varying terrain like blueberry bushes, pine tree groves and otherwise root-infested knee-blasters.

These sections are all cardio-intensive. You have to pump those legs. In the case of this ride, I rode about a mile of these singletrack sections before taking the jeep road back to the parking lot.

Lens flare is all the rage, but I really was trying to escape it

There is a bunch more trail than this, and one day maybe I'll post it. In lieu of that here, I'll just post some more trail-related photos and drop the trail map down below as well.

The trail less travelled will get eaten by nature 

Tailgating is where it ends

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Early June Paddle Roundup

The season of Summer has finally hung up its coat and taken a seat in our region of the Northeast. This means more playtime outside, and likely more roundup posts about outdoor adventures in lieu of entries for each trip. That would probably be excruciating to read, anyway.

We hit the Delaware again on two successive weekends at the beginning of this month. Two relatively short jaunts in fine weather on what you could call bourgeois-cruises. OK, just "booze-cruise" works. The definition of which is casually paddling while drinking a can of beer.

Somewhere on the Delaware

At the crack of 1:30 PM on Saturday, June 4th myself and four others (Tara, Scott, Jaime and Eric) set out to paddle the Smithfield to Kittatinny section of the Delaware. Armed with a few beers and subs, we made it our mission to relax. I'd go ahead and even say we had a license to chill, but the cornball levels are already much too high.

This particular segment is 6-7 miles long. The ambiguity exists because I thought it was 6 miles, but my GPS track on this read almost 7 miles. It took us nearly three hours, which isn't that bad considering we stopped for lunch and very casually paddled.

Yes, these boats are secure

In fact, I'd have to say the most strenuous part is jamming five boats onto my truck. I've got it down to a science now... maybe more like a pseudo-science. At this point, a trailer would be actually worth the trouble. I'm thinking of something like a utility trailer that I could fabricate boat cradles and thingamajigs upon.

I will take selfies now and again

Mixed among these photos are evidence from the June 12th trip, whereas we navigated the Delaware from the Eshback access point to the Bushkill disembark. This makes for a good four-mile float where you are implored to not paddle too hard, as you'll knock it out in less than an hour. We had a strong headwind, so there was an impetus to work those shoulder muscles, after all. We packed this one in with a sedan left at Bushkill and jamming five people in the extended cab of my Tacoma to put in at Eshback. And I'd really perfected the sardine arrangement of the kayaks in the truck bed, so the looming threat of a boat trailer was kept at bay for a little bit more for the weekend.

 I've got too many projects as it is, so I can table the trailer discussion for now. And since it's Friday and another weekend is upon us, I'll wrap this up, sneak out of work and go generate some more photos. I'll leave the GPS track below for the Smithfield to Kittatinny trip, for curiosity's sake only, it's not very interesting. And certainly not athletic.

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Big Pocono Hike

This 90-degree heat gets me thinking about getting high. No, not that kind of high. I'm speaking of the altitude kind of high where the temperature is ten degrees cooler and you've got more than a fair chance of a breeze. Big Pocono State Park near Tannsersville, Pennsylvania fills this role perfectly.

We're looking at Delaware Water Gap taking on water

Big Pocono is also just a little bit "around the mountain" from one of my prime mountain biking locations, which I have written about as well, this post being a recent example. There are several miles of hiking (and some biking) trails skirt the mountain top and interconnect here and there occasionally. The trail markings are pretty decent and feature some great views, with several sweet spots.

My wife and I decided to make it a Sunday picnic/hike a few weeks ago. There was a small threat of rain, as you can see in the photo above. A funny note about this photo is that we're actually watching from afar as our house in Delaware Water Gap is getting poured on. You can see the Gap in the center, and our house is a bit to the right. It remained dry in Big Pocono, despite the storm clouds threatening on the three sides of the peninsula.

Scenic vista on Indian Trail

We ended up hiking for about 3 1/4 miles on part of the South Trail and the entirety of Indian Trial, which included the viewpoint from the photo above. It's certainly an easy hike, with parts of Indian Trail being somewhat rocky, but with some great glacial boulder droppings to be seen. The South Trial also features some wonderful viewpoints, as seen below.

South Trail, featuring a view of Delaware Water Gap 

Me, with the 'Gap above my wonderful hairdo 

 Tara looks out over the South

I believe that's Mountain Spring Lake behind me

We did get a few raindrops, and we had a few meager wildlife sightings, whereas you can see an alert chipmunk below, who circled around this tree trunk while we observed him.

I'll post the hiking track below. It's a nice spot to hike and explore, and you're at the top of the Poconos, so it's the best vantage point in the vicinity.

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Camelback and the Gamelands

The trail system known commonly as"Camelback" at the state gamelands near Camelback Mountain certainly has its fair share of rocky sections. I mean, there is sandy jeep road, smooth singletrack, pine needle singletrack, rocky doubletrack and rooty and rocky singletrack as well. Rocky sections are a hallmark of areas like this Allegheny Plateau at 2,000 feet above sea level. It's glacier action, people!

A slice of singletrack at SG38

And here we are again, discussing trails that lie in the "gray area" of the legality spectrum. Bike riding isn't prohibited in the state gamelands, but the building of trails is, however. It's OK, the skinny paths are deer trails, we all know that. I will be straightforward here, and give credit to the relationship, albeit tenuous, that the riders, hunters, fishermen and gamelands personnel have organically come upon for the usage of the area.

I believe that there is a gentleman's agreement on the gameland usage when peak (read deer hunting season) arrives. I've had my own fair weather October or November encounter at the trailhead with a gameland official, and he was cordial, offering the advice that if I had just a fishing license on me, there would be no problem.

Honestly, deer hunting season corresponds with my offseason anyway, where I'm snowboarding or just drinking a lot of wine and watching Netflix. The hunters can gladly have the land unabated.

But we're back to the rocks. A good rum on the rocks or a glass of wine, I've passed the time through hunting season and I'm back onto the rocky and rooty gameland trails. There's a lot to ride up there, with punchy ups and downs, or the case where a riding buddy named Alan and myself dropped most of the 2,000 feet down into Reeders, Pennsylvania only to have to pedal all the way back up to the car.

You'll get your mix there of roots, rocks, sand and dirt, and you'll also get to spy some great views upon some vantage points. I certainly don't ride just for exercise, adventure and escape are key elements. Below I have a photo from a powerline break that divulges itself as you wheel the last few meters to the trailhead to your waiting vehicle. I almost always stop, or at least slow down here, to take a deep breath and gaze at the view.

I may post the map below, I'll think about it. Some of the trails are in a gray area of sorts, so I want to be cognizant of that. It's a shame, it's a pretty decent place to ride.

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MRT Monday Nine Miler

A different day, a different configuration of the close-and-convenient McDade trail. I pushed out nine miles by riding from Smithfield access to the park headquarters and back. The stretch between Smithfield and the River's Edge access point has a bit of cornfield boring-ness, but the warm weather is still fresh, so anything rocks right now.

North of Smithfield

I decided to spice up the ride by endangering my cell for a quick video of the parking lot cruise back to my truck at sunset.

Everything survived, I didn't crash broadside into my truck and destroy the phone. I'll embed the map below.

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McDade HQ, hills and 20k Taco

There's a little bike trip on the McDade Recreational Trail that is short of distance, but packs some climbing alongside a great scenic view. I take the Riverview parking lot up to the park headquarters, which requires a couple hundred feet of climbing to the HQ and ride back the way I came. It's a my fitness ride, of sorts, that only works because I enjoy the view the entire way. You see, I'm not really that big a fan of fitness for fitness sake. More like FFS, the typical interpretation of that.

Beware of the mastodon, at park HQ

There is a good little extension on the way back to add more elevation, in that you can take the spur up to Turn Farm and back to climb and descend about 100 feet. If you're feeling froggy, you can pass Riverview, where you're parked, and head towards the Smithfield access to extend your trip, maybe get some sun on the way in the corn fields. Sometimes there's corn in the fields, I should say.

I completed the ride by driving up the dirt road by Zion church, only to realize that my Toyota Tacoma just surpassed 20,000 miles, which begged for a photo op.

20,00 miles, still cherry, not even broken in for a Tacoma

This dirt road is an easygoing bit of offroad that carries you near the top of the ridge on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware. Take a left at the "Y" and you'll roll onto the unpaved portion of Mosier's Knob Road, which travels along the top of the ridge. There are a number of fields and an abandoned farmstead along this road, with some views of the river valley sprinkled in.

Mosier's Knob dirt road empties onto it's paved rendition, and that takes you back nearby Shawnee on Delaware. It's a nice little piece of "out there" driving to finish up a ride. Although, I do have to start remembering to bring a growler with me to fill it up on the way home with some Shawnee Craft brew at the Gem & Keystone or the brewery itself at Shawnee.

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The DWG Loop

The "DWG Loop" is my home loop. It's one of those sought-after affairs where your doorstep almost spills out directly into forested mountain bike trails. The ideal is this holy grail situation where there is no car commute to the trailhead, it's a short stint from your garage to some amazing network of singletrack upon the same fat tires that you'll be rotating on those trails.

I'm almost there. I roll out of my garage and ride for a few minutes on pavement around "the block". Suddenly, I swing my wheel towards the woods and I'm on my local trail network. It's not fantastic or big, but it's right there. It's magical. No car keys, wallet, bike rack, locking mechanisms... just jump on the steed and go.

No, the trails are not all magical singletrack, and there isn't 100 miles of it, but it's been evolving and improving as a small group of local riders trim up the trails and slowly add more. And like a lot of local stash ride spots, this all exists in a gray area. And it's also hard.

Immediately after leaving the pavement, you begin to ascend a rocky, gravelly and somewhat blown-out path. You gain a bit over 200 feet of elevation in only about 1/2 a mile. This used to be an old road traversing the hilly national park, interestingly enough. This levels a bit for several hundred feet and then up we go again. Old power lines still run the path, many of the small poles have fallen down from disrepair and dead-fall trees taking the wires and poles with them.

You make a right after passing some downed poles and deceased wiring and once again you ascend for a while. This leg will take you from about 785 feet and top out at 1020 feet at a pipeline break at the top of this ridge. This stretch is just a bit over 1/2 a mile as well, but from here, it's all downhill, as they say.

The top of the ridge "behind" my house

It's downhill in the direction of the photo above. It's basically a steep hill with some humps designed as runoff or ATV deterrents. They kinda work as jumps, however. Grin!

For my "normal loop", you head left at the bottom of the hill and descend gradually on doubletrack. At this time of year, the vegetation is still at its wishful thinking stage of choking the trail until it becomes a veritable tunnel in spots. You're headed for where you started now, but before you completely retrace your steps, you dive back into singletrack at an unmarked location for a bit over a half mile of varied terrain. You've got some log-overs, rock gardens, swoopy stuff and a few dirt mounds. You bounce out of the singletrack onto the old road and you're out. If you time the ride correctly, you can grab a slice of the sunset.

It's nice to take a few breaths and watch the horizon here before pedaling back home on the pavement to my doorstep. That photo kinda summarizes the feeling after the ride following a work day full of bullshit. Just wind it down and calmly stare off into space... maybe crack a beer on my patio where I can see some of this same sunset, albeit lower down the mountain.

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Kayaking kickoff with the DWG crew

We had beautiful weather two Sundays ago, and it was time to get the kayaking and paddling season underway. Yeah, you can go when it's colder, but I'm doing this for fun, remember? It was time to get the rig on the truck and give the kayaks a bath. We still had plenty of bare branches out there, but it was hot and sunny enough to get fully crisped by the sun. At least for me, that is.

The homemade boat rack - "the rig"

The kayaks after a bit of a wash

This turned out to be the Summer in the 'gap kickoff meeting of sorts. Among the six of us were some Delaware Water Gap locals as well as an honoree 'gap local visiting for the weekend. We put in at Smithfield beach on the Delaware River and set our destination at the Kittatinny access point in New Jersey. It's a six mile trip and great for an afternoon trip. I'll just throw some photos out at this point.

 Rachele and Scott, left to right

Monica, paddling an excitingly-colored kayak 

Left to right, Jaime and Tara, bumper boats 

From the bow of my boat, watching Rachele and Scott 

As we begin to pass the bridge to Shawnee Island 

Scott, in full manly action 

Jaime and Scott run aground at Kittatinny, the destination 

Ahoy, Kittatinny, the ending point for the paddle session   

This leg of the Delaware is an interesting on several points. Firstly, you paddle past the historic Shawnee Inn, which includes a golf course that extends from the Pennsylvania side of the river onto Shawnee Island. The bridge in the photo above is the link between the two land masses. Shawnee Island is a sizable island, and you can now gawk at the "glamping" sites they now have established on the island. These are bourgeois yurts with electricity for your hairdryers and ground support in the terms of food or something.

The second interesting features are the trestles that remain embedded in the river that once supported an elevated train track. The location of this feature is where the Brodhead Creek empties into the Delaware near the Delaware Water Gap. I have a photo below of a kayak trip last summer.

 Train trestle at the mouth of Brodhead Creek and Delaware River in Delaware Water Gap

The third interesting aspect of this portion of the Delaware is the fact that you pass underneath Interstate 80, possibly one of the most traveled routes in the Northeast Corridor. The river is deep, and the bridge pylons are massive, and you certainly feel an unsettling sense of might over natural matter that was required to put this into place.

Of course, I've had a few beers at this point and have been fried by the sun, so dehydration plays an important part in any kind of psychological evaluation. There was also the fact that we had to save a crew of non-english speaking people from a serious grounding of their rented bass boat on a sand bar.

I suppose I can't leave without putting a few words down on this. We had rounded a soft curve after Shawnee Island and came across an aluminum bass boat with several people onboard and the high -horsepower motor spinning frantically halfway out of the water. We offered a few volleys of help, and realized that, yes, indeed, they needed help. We parked our boats and waded to the bass boat and immediately told them to cut the motor, otherwise somebody would lose a limb. We then instructed them to get off the marooned boat, since that was basic science.

They had missed the channel, essentially. Like really missed it, as the best channel was on the other side of the river and lead-in of this island. We had to basically lift the boat off the rocky sandbar and get in into the most appropriate channel available to get their craft and party to float along. Once we had a free floating status, we bid them adieu, had them jump back on the boat and wished (hoped) them happy trails.

On the 10-yard walk back to shore in waist deep water, I obviously tripped and dunked myself entirely. The water is cold in April, but the sun and temperature where both quite radiant that day, so there wasn't the typical fear of exposure. Hey, no good deed goes unpunished.

This should mark the beginning of a great summer. That's what the planets aligned here or whatever. We kicked this thing off right. We paddled, we talked, we bailed some people out, we went to the Minisink, we got some (too much) sun and we just hung together like brothers from another mother. I'm feeling good about this.

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