The Brushy Creek Incident (Part One)

Whether we're out camping, canoeing, or at home telling misadventures to friends old and new, one story that has come up many a time has been from my very first "river" adventure, on Brushy Creek in Round Rock, TX.

Let me take you back in time, to the early 1990's, when the internet was not yet commonly known, Bush senior was still president, and I was only 19 years old. At the time, I was living the starving student lifestyle, my only means of transportation was bus and/or bicycle, and I was in a lot better shape because of it. Earlier that year, I had ridden my bike from Austin to San Antonio, straight down I-35, because I needed to transfer my bank account to something local. Of course, it wasn't until 75 miles and 5 hours later that I found out they had a branch in San Marcos.

But that's another story.

This story begins when my best friend from high school, Chris, came for a visit. He and I used to go hiking regularly in San Antonio, although of course, those are other stories, as well. For a while, he had been in an advanced study program at the University of North Texas, where he earned college credit while still technically in high school. This is where he had met Mike, who later attended the University of Texas in Austin, and was currently my roommate in an off-campus apartment. While Mike wasn't quite the bike-rider that Chris and I were, he was getting used to the kind of mileage that I considered a casual day ride -- I'd managed to talk him into joining me for that ride to San Antonio.

One thing that had kept me curious for a long time had been the descriptions Chris used to give of the woods when he had lived in Round Rock. Well, he was here, we had free time, and Round Rock was only 22 miles away. Why not head up there for a camping trip?

So, we loaded up the bikes. I grabbed the C.A.K.E. Bag (in Case of Any Kind of Emergency) that we always took with us on our outings...it had a first aid kit, slingshot, rope, a Ninja Grappling Hook™, and various other items that in our naive late teens we thought were useful when going on long hikes.....I think there was a canteen, mess kit, and firelighters in there....no food though. Hm, guess hindsight can easily make you look stupid. What can I say? I was young.

The other key element we had with us were two inflatable rafts, the $25 "Two Man" rafts, in which "man" translated to "preteen child"; each boat only held one person in reality. I had bought these in the seasonal item aisle in H.E.B., for use paddling around Town Lake (the section of the Colorado River that is dammed on its way through Austin), since it was basically across the street from my back porch. I don't know why I thought I'd need it -- Chris had never said anything about any bodies of water -- but I guess it was just lumped into the category of "outdoor stuff" to always carry around, along with our hiking staffs. Those, of course, we carried slung across our backs with simple elastic shock cord.

We took off fairly early in the morning, straight along I-35 for most of the way, and once in Round Rock, we discovered that enough had changed that Chris could no longer pick out any landmarks to find his way to where he used to live. Rather than consider the trip a total waste, we pedaled around some back roads, and soon spotted a trail leading into a wooded area, so we decided to see where it went.

Jackpot!

We came across a clearing by a small creek, where the trail continued along the bank downstream. We didn't want to camp this close to the road, and Chris and I decided this was as good an excuse as any to pull out the rafts...our bright idea was that we would scout downriver until we found a campsite, then make our way back up the trail to retrieve Mike, who volunteered to watch the bikes, since he couldn't swim.

Did I mention the creek was running high and a bit swift (with some noticeable rapids just audible downstream), due to recent rains?

The last thing Mike heard of us for quite some time was my voice exclaiming in joy as we hit the first flume. The river bucked and shifted, and we struggled to steer at the beginning, but after a few exhilarating minutes, the flow settled down and we started rowing. Of course, one thing we couldn't help but notice was when we passed the point where the trail dead-ended into the river and we found ourselves now floating between impassable banks.

After a bit, we saw a small cove that looked promising, and we maneuvered in to have a look. Sadly, what we found was a muddy mess that wouldn't suit our purposes at all. Back to the river for us.

For quite some time, both banks of the river looked exactly the same -- sheer walls of dirt or clay that meant climbing out was not an option. We knew we'd have to keep going until we found shallow, flat banks, but had no idea how far that would be.

Worse yet, we saw that we were rapidly approaching a fallen tree that completely blocked our path. In moments, Chris thumped into it, and the water pressure capsized his raft. Fortunately, he managed to clamber up onto the tree, pulling his boat up after him. I tried to see if I could slip around and under a hump in the branches, but I quickly was dumped in the water, as well.

Note to self...if you have something you plan to use as an anchor, tie it to the boat before getting in the water.

While handing the raft and CAKE bag up to Chris, I hung onto the tree and tried to feel around with my foot for the grappling hook or rope, as I could *just* touch bottom. Unfortunately, that water was running much faster than I thought, and I very nearly got pulled under. I climbed up onto the log with Chris, and we took stock of our situation. We were stranded on a fallen tree above a dangerously fast-moving river, with no way to climb up either bank or go against the current if we tried to return the way we'd come. Downstream, there was a whole lot of brush that looked like it would probably capsize us again, but we could see there was a branch that hung out over the water, pointing away from the brush. Maybe if we sat in the raft and went hand-over hand along that branch, we could get far enough out that we could avoid the obstacle.

Chris volunteered to try first. I held his boat for him while he climbed in, and he got hold of the branch. He announced that he was ready, and I let go so he could start handwalking.

There are some downsides to being short sometimes.

After a couple of grabs, he lost his grip because he couldn't easily reach, and he was swept into the brush. I saw his boat capsize and I was wrapping my arm up in the rope on the side of my raft to use it as a big flat to jump in after him, when I heard his eagle cry from somewhere further downstream. This was an old trick we used to use when we were separated and trying to meet up...he'd do that call, and I'd head in his general direction. I could usually hear it from about a quarter mile away.

So Chris was all right. That was a relief. Now it was my turn to try my luck at it. Of course, this presented a whole new problem, as I didn't have anyone to hold my boat for me, and I didn't have the armspan to hold both it and the branch.

I rummaged around in the CAKE bag for a moment, and pulled out a cheap yellow nylon rope. Looping it over the branch, I crossed my fingers that friction would hold while I used the rope to hold the branch, and held the boat with my other hand to climb in after putting the CAKE bag into the raft. (By the way, I've since taken the trouble to learn to actually tie proper knots so this could have been avoided.)

After clambering in and seating myself, I reached up and got hold of the branch. Then, I carefully guided myself all the way to the end. Then I let go....

....and the current immediately shoved me toward the brush, the boat flipped over and took off down the river ahead of me. Simply reacting, I started swimming after it, thinking only of not wanting to lose my only means of transport.

I caught up to it just as the flow was slowing down into another pool, and where I saw Chris sitting on some rocks on shore, his boat beside him as he waited for me to come along. As I was about to climb up, he started laughing and pointing behind me. I turned around and saw that the CAKE bag, which I'd abandoned in my haste to catch the boat, was floating a couple feet behind me. It wasn't going past with the current....and with the hole in the top and all the waterlogged stuff inside, it should by all rights have sunk, but there it was.

"Now, that is some loyal luggage!"

We had a good laugh, and while I poured 5 gallons of river water out of the bag, we cheerfully ranted about all the things that had gone wrong since we'd gotten into the water. This was one of our running gags after having seen Willow several years before.

"We haven't found a campsite, or any way to get out. We've lost our anchor. We're soaked to the bone and have no idea how far we've gone. We've got no food, and no idea how to get back to Mike."

"Are you suggesting we go home?"

"Nah, this is more fun!"

With that, we loaded up, grabbed our paddles, and continued downstream.

Labor Day Canoemping! (Epilogue)

As I finally put the finishing touches on that story and post it, I realize that it has been almost 6 months since that trip, and we haven't gone camping again yet. We had planned to go one more time before the weather got too cold, but then Angela was suddenly working 10-hour days at work, 7 days a week, and the only chance there was to see her at all was Saturday and Sunday mornings before she left for work. So we chose not to go out on overnight trips, and even our day trips were limited in distance.

Around the beginning of October, we splurged and bought a used canoe from an ad online...it may not be as nice as the ones we've rented, but it was only a couple hundred bucks and should suit our skill level nicely for a while. We've also invested in a dehydrator, with which we are still experimenting, in the hopes of turning out some really good camp meals without having to deal with perishables.

We've decided to split up our tax refund and spend it as we wish -- I happen to be building a dream list of camping gear I plan to buy as soon as that money hits the account....this season promises to be much more comfortable and lightweight. Oh, and dryer -- thank you girls for buying me some more dry bags for Christmas!

The point is that we're getting twitchy. We have been spending the winter looking at places to go, ways to camp, stuff to take, food to cook, and forums to tell the stories. We've taken a couple driving trips, but nothing in which we stayed out, to enjoy the park at our leisure, knowing we wouldn't have to drive home until the following day -- our home for that night was just a short walk from whatever we were doing in the park, fishing, hiking, or whatever.

Spring is coming -- we had our first taste of it last weekend (yes, look for another post soon), when we were all over East Texas looking at history and the various parks in the area. I'm willing the universe to cooperate and give us a third nice weekend in a row -- the first, Brandy was sick, for like a week. The second, we had a different quest in mind, as it was Angela's birthday weekend, and she's more into history than camping. The next nice weekend, whether with the gear we have now, or with the new gear I plan to buy, we will be out of the house and gone, spending more than a full day luxuriating in our passion for the outdoors.

Wanna go!

Labor Day Canoemping! (Sunday)

The funny thing about camping is that somehow, you are almost guaranteed to wake up shortly after the sun rises, and this time was no exception. As is our usual habit, Brandy quickly got dressed and got started making coffee and breakfast, while I got to work breaking down camp. In the process, I managed to pack things into the backpacks much more efficiently than before, and they were no longer wobbly.

Paused to scarf down Brandy's offering, which was considerably better fare than mine the night before -- scrambled eggs, bacon, and a potato and onion hash on the side. My appetite was at a very high ebb, as it would be when I'm getting as much exercise as we were enjoying this trip. Gonna be rowing all day? Make sure you have a hearty breakfast.

After cleanup, we loaded everything back into the canoe, and also found that I had managed to get a bit of a sunburn the day before, as had Brandy where she hadn't been able to reach with the sunscreen. We coated ourselves as best we could with the remainder of what we had, and agreed on the plan that we would pretty much stay wet....if we felt overheated, we'd pull ashore, go for a brief swim, then continue on our way.

From what we could tell, we figured we had only gone about 4 miles on Saturday, out of the total 20 miles that the trip would be. We wanted Monday to be a relatively short day, so as to have plenty of time to go home, unload the car, do laundry, and all that other real world stuff before having to go back to work on Tuesday morning.

We looked at the map, and the only useful landmark we could determine near the end was a lifeguard chair at an old Boy Scout swimming beach....this was supposed to be at the 15 mile mark or so. That meant we would be rowing roughly 3 times the estimated distance we had gone the day before. So, yeah, the goal was to make up some lost time.

It was around 9am when we hit the water, paddling down a wide, slow-moving section of the river. There was a slight breeze, and we were enjoying the cliffs and trees on either side of us. For a while, it was easy to think we were the only people on the river, as there was nobody around us, and it was very quiet.

Soon, we saw a couple of figures ahead on the bank. As we approached, one suddenly jumped up and ran back toward their campsite. When we got closer, I couldn't resist calling out, "What's the matter? Needed to throw some clothes back on?"

Laughing, the guy replied, "Nah, she saw a snake."

We struck up a conversation with the couple, and at one point they commented that they may have to end the trip early, as they had run out of ice and had perishable items. Well, far be it from us to let people suffer when we're pretty well prepared -- we'd left with 2 large frozen gel packs. We gave them one of ours, and also preached a bit about how nice the microfilter bottles had been in terms of the amount of stuff we had to carry. They're planning on buying a couple of their own now.

As we departed, I joked to Brandy, "now let's see what the next mission is for River Rescue."

Aside from glorious scenery, our time was spent quietly paddling, with no major events, as we were looking for the "yellow and black pipe" that was supposed to mark the halfway point. We were a bit confused as to why they didn't also mark the power lines, as those were considerably more obvious. Next time, I plan to bring my own map.

Eventually, we met some nice folks who explained that what was probably meant was a dock, that once upon a time had a cooler, and sold ice and a fresh meal to those poor souls who had just spent 10 miles on a river. At that point, we were starting to realize that while not having to lug bottled water was nice, we could also really go for a cold soda.

So we paddled and paddled, visions of sugar highs dancing in our heads, and we finally saw a dock in the distance. As we approached, however, it appeared that the cold drink thing was not going to happen. There was a covered area with picnic benches, and a grill is horrible disrepair, a rusty refrigerator, an overgrown playground that hadn't been used in years, and now us, two disappointed canoeists. I went up the dirt road a bit, but it didn't look like it connected to a main road anytime soon, which meant that a short hike to a convenience store wasn't what was meant, either. Note to self: don't believe that it's still there if the information you're getting is from a vague memory.

No big deal, though -- we certainly weren't having any hydration issues thanks to the water bottles, and we still had plenty of food. Course, we weren't really hungry, but it did seem like a nice place to sit down for a while and relax in the shade. Both of us were starting to feel fatigued from all the rowing, and we wanted to rest a bit before starting on the next 5 or so miles we were estimating. Besides, some other canoeists showed up, and while they pretty much stayed down by the beach, the view was worth hanging out and watching -- ah, bikinis and the Texas sun...

Soon after they left, a truck came barrelling down the road. Hm, maybe we had just been early and this dock had hours? Nope -- they had a cooler, all right, but it was a group of young men with their beer, out for a swim off the public dock. We rested for just a bit longer, but then decided to go ahead and get back underway.

Time can be a funny thing on the river. We hadn't brought any timepieces with us -- the cell phones were safely stashed in the car (no signal anyway), and neither of us wore a watch. While I couldn't simply look up at the sun and tell you it was 2:18pm or anything, I had picked up somewhere a simple way to figure out how much daylight you had left. So far it's worked out reasonably accurately, at least when I can check it against a clock. Assuming it's the afternoon, when your arm is fully extended (it doesn't matter which one), count the number of open handspans between the bottom of the sun and the horizon. That tells you roughly how many hours you have until sunset. If you know about what time the sun has been setting, this can give you a fair idea of what time it is, too.

This, of course, is relevant because after paddling since early morning, with one more dropping of a paddle while zipping through some minor rapids (a tree branch knocked it out of my hands while I was ducking -- fortunately, we maneuvered and recovered the paddle without capsizing again), and passing a few campsites (although I didn't recognize anyone from the group we had set out with....so I was wondering how many groups passed us), we finally saw the tall wooden lifeguard chair from the overgrown area that used to be a beach. Oddly enough, we'd come all this way and it looked like it was only about 2pm (the sun was just barely past the middle of the sky).

We had a problem. Someone had planted the thought in our heads of a store where we could get some drinks or something at that midpoint, which turned out not to be there. We still had supplies, and if we wanted, could put together a fairly nice dinner for camp food, especially compared to stuff we'd seen other people bringing.

We knew we were only 4 or 5 miles from the take-out point. And a Chinese buffet was starting to sound more and more appealing. Hm....we loved being outdoors, though....but....chinese buffet.....

The hell with it -- we rationalized that we could get all the stuff washed and otherwise rest on Monday so we were prepared to go back to work -- we'd already paddled 12 miles; what was another 4 or 5? So we got back to it, paddling, paddling, paddling....

Along the shores, we noticed that we were apparently past the good campsites, anyway. The shoreline was now either fenced off, or contained cows. Lots and lots of bovine bunkmates didn't really appeal to us in choice of campsites.

Speaking of cows....one thing they didn't warn us about was that we'd go through a six inch deep patch of water right where it was a favorite crossing path for the herd. There a a slightly tense moment as we veeerrrryyyy sssssllllooooowwwwllllyyyy passed a large bull with vicious-looking horns. He was maybe ten feet from us, and if he had decided he didn't like us, we pretty much just had a pair of aluminum and plastic paddles to defend ourselves with. Fortunately, he seemed content to merely watch us and make sure we didn't make any sudden moves at the other cows crossing the river....we floated by saying "nice cow, good cow...."

In the home stretch, we passed some families that were out for the day, that had apparently started at Rochelles and just gone upstream a mile or two. We also finally passed someone that had been in our original group! A few more fun riffles and paddling, and ah-hah! The bridge!

We make our way to shore just after the bridge, and Brandy heads up to get the car while I'm unloading the canoe and making sure that all our stuff is accounted for (except the griddle we'd lost a few hours into the trip). We left their gear in the boat, with it pulled well up onto shore, loaded our stuff in the car, and said goodbye on our way past the house. Course, it was a bit after 6, so we were gonna be charged for the extra day, but that's okay -- we were suddenly ravenous, and looking forward to that buffet. We made our way back to the nearest main road, and as soon as we were in town, there was a dash for the bathroom, followed by the purchase of some Powerade. I guzzled mine and a liter of Dr. Pepper before we made it to the next town, 15 miles away.

Pulling in to Mineral Wells, we decide to clean up a bit before appearing in public, so after a brief stop at the state park (ah, showers!), we made our way to the buffet and gorged ourselves....I think I made 5 trips through the line. Course, on the way home, I apparently hadn't yet taken in enough calories, as I had a large soda and a pound of Skittles.

Yeah, I burn a lot of energy....high metabolism + lots of physical activity (you know, like rowing 16 miles) = one very hungry Jacob.

Got home, said hi to Angela, and promptly passed out....we saved all the unloading of the car, laundry, etc. for Monday.

Yes, we were exhausted, and yes, while we packed well, we noticed a few things we could improve upon....and I can't wait till we go again.

Labor Day Canoemping! (Saturday)

6am, and I'm up, showered, and guiding Brandy's semi-comatose form into the car. We head out, stop for donuts and some coffee, and then we're on the road! We stop briefly around Weatherford, where the coffee caught up with us. For fun, I try the harmonica out, just playing a random melody running through my head. Seems I have a knack for melodic doodling, although I'd need a lot more practice to play a song people would recognize.

We eventually make the turn to head north of I-20, but soon discover that a bridge is out, so we asked for some directions to reroute (we weren't in the car with the gazetteer and Roads of Texas). The amusing thing was having to ignore the detour sign which, according to the woman who gave us directions, was actually pointing the wrong way.

Finally, we were on the right path, approaching the country we'd soon be floating through. Winding around a mountain, passing small towns that weren't much bigger than a couple of buildings by the road, and growing more and more eager about our trip the closer we got. Fooling around with the harmonica, stopping at a little wooden building for some last-minute bait, and at last, we crossed the final bridge and made our way into the parking lot at Rochelle's.

We paid for the rental and shuttle fees, and fended off a half-dozen attempts to sell us cheesy souvenirs or things we'd already brought with us. He dug out the little paper map, and scribbled on it in red ink while describing landmarks, half of which I didn't remember, to give us a rough idea of when we'd be where along the trip.

Last chance to pee in a civilized bathroom!

Then it was back to the car, unload our gear, and take it over to the shuttle truck. To judge by the looks on other people's faces, we were woefully under packed. We had no water (everyone else had at least a case of water bottles), and all our gear fit in 2 backpacks, one of which was just a regular schoolbag, with the minor exception of the camp stove, griddle, and small cooler (which basically just held some meat, eggs, potatoes and onions). Brandy sat in the cab, while I went back to my Mexican roots and made myself comfortable in the pickup bed.

I'm not sure how far we drove, but I know it took probably 20 or 30 minutes before we were at the put-in. With as little gear as we had, Brandy and I were the first boat actually in the water. Paddle out a little bit, and dunk the water bottles into the river. Take our first drink of filtered river water - hey, not bad! It actually tasted a little sweet...interesting.

Blue skies, a light breeze, beautiful canyons, trees, and pretty green water -- yeah, it was a gorgeous day for paddling. We started off at a nice slow pace, and saw where some people were planning a nice, relaxed pace for the weekend -- we were barely around the first bend, and they'd already set up camp (unless they hadn't broken camp from the night before).

We got a good laugh, when we passed a broken rowboat left ashore from who knows how long ago. And a little bit later, we were almost bumped into by a couple of guys that were apparently on their first canoe -- they hadn't yet gotten the hang of going straight...it probably didn't help that one of them was practically lying down in the canoe and trying to reach up to paddle. We joked in our best pirate voices about ramming speed and plundering their boat, but that was about all the interaction we had with them for a while as we soon left them behind.

In just a little while, we were passing a rocky shelf that just cried out that fish were probably hiding there, so I guided the canoe closer and held onto a rock while Brandy cast into a quiet cove. Not much action going on, so she had me continue paddling. No sooner were we back in the middle of the river than she has a fish on her line. A good size one too! Sadly, just after she got the hook out, it jumped out of her hands and swam away.

She kept trying for a bit, but didn't catch anything worth keeping, so she had me row on, with her in the rear of the canoe kinda trolling her line, until we saw a quiet spot, where off in a small hollow, there was a patch of algae providing natural cover. Brandy cast into that a few times, then asked me to back up a bit.

A brief "oh, shit" was all the warning I got.

Scarcely were the words out of her mouth when I found myself underwater. Within seconds, we had surfaced, righted the canoe, retrieved the paddles, and dug out a couple of pots from the mess kit to begin bailing, and only then did she get a chance to explain what had happened. It seems she had dropped her paddle and tried to reach for it, overbalancing the boat and giving us a chance to go swimming in the Brazos.

"Oops," I grinned, as I began taking stock -- thank goodness we'd had the foresight to double-bag the camera and put at least the sleeping bags in a dry bag. Unfortunately, we didn't take the same precaution with towels and spare clothing. We were also missing a few heavy items -- camp saw, stove, griddle, and the like.

Flash forward an hour and a half...the boat is bailed, everything is found except for the griddle (the hard way...note to self, get a saw that doesn't expose the pointy bits), we've been passed by a few people, including our fellow pirates from earlier, and our bare feet are covered in mud from sliding them along the river bottom in shoulder-deep water (for Brandy), searching for everything. I hop up and back into the canoe (who would have thought all those ladder-less exits from the community pool would have resulted in a useful skill?), and paddle it closer to shore so Brandy can rejoin me.

The revised plan for the day? Find the next good campsite so we have time to dry our things out, then put more effort in the next day. Besides, we were operating on two hours of sleep. A short day sounded like a good idea.

So we paddled for a bit, but soon came across the two guys we joked with before. One had the canoe up on a rocky shore, looking puzzled, while the other was obviously swimming in fairly deep water, with water bottles floating all around him. Having just been through it ourselves, we knew they had capsized, and started rowing over to help.

The one swimming seemed to be okay...he was mainly gathering the water bottles, while the other one was trying to figure out how to tip over a canoe full of water. I grabbed our pots and stood on a bit of rock that jutted out under the water and started bailing. He tried to join me, stepped off the rock and was immediately underwater. Spluttering as he surfaced, he asked how I was standing like that. Poor guy, musta thought I was Jesus for a second there.

Eventually, we got the majority of the water out of the canoe, and I told him it'd be better to do the actual tipping after they unloaded for camp later. Funny, though, it looked like they had packed more poorly than people assumed we did -- all it looked like they had to eat for 3 days was some snack-size bags of chips.

Meanwhile, the buddy in the water was calling for his friend to come and pick him up.

"No way! You'll just tip the boat again! Just swim over here."

"There's leeches in this river, dog!"

Eventually, they sorted themselves out, and we were on our way again, Brandy and I still giggling about the leeches line.

About thirty minutes later, we were approaching a trail leading up the shore of a sandbar through some thick brush. We were still with the buddies, and all of us started looking around when we heard a loud roaring sound from somewhere upriver. A few minutes later, we saw an airboat approaching -- turned out to be the game warden.

Hm...guess it's a good thing that fish earlier had gotten away, as we were able to play off the fishing gear as a misunderstanding, which it was -- we'd gotten so used to being able to fish in any state park that we had forgotten about needing a fishing license to go elsewhere. We promised to put it away, and the warden let us go with a warning. Then they started up their propeller and continued downriver, while we dragged the canoe ashore and said goodbye to our travelling companions.

First thing's first, set up camp and start laying all our wet stuff out on the gravel to dry in the sun. Eventually, we ran out of gravel and started draping things on the bushes. Meanwhile, I aired up the mats and took out the nice dry sleeping bags (yay for at least a little forethought). Lunch was a packet of pre-cooked salmon and some bread, which thankfully had managed to stay dry during the dunking. After that, we curled up and took a much-deserved nap.

Later that evening, we found that the stove had dried out enough to be usable, so after we stowed our mostly-dry gear, Brandy explored a little bit, and I threw together a pot of chili. Funny, even on low, the stove's flame was hot enough to turn the aluminum grill blue. I learned a lesson this evening -- when you're used to guesstimating spice measurements by the volume of stuff in the pot while it's cooking, don't try to put these guesstimations into a pre-mixed bag to add later. Sadly, the chili turned out to be so peppery as to be inedible. Oops.

After "dinner," we cleaned everything up, and we realized why it would be a good idea get a scrub brush for the cleanup supplies list instead of a sponge. In the wilderness, you're using just-boiled water, not merely hot, to wash dishes. Ah, another lesson learned for next time.

After dinner, I was still pretty tired, so I basically put away the camp stove and such, and made my way into the tent. Brandy hung out down by the river for a while, then came into bed sometime after it got dark.

I don't know what time it was. All I know is that we heard a snuffling sound, like a dog, wandering around our camp. Before I could be all manly and such, Brandy had already hopped up, grabbed the flashlight, and was opening the tent to go outside, buck naked, and shouting at the errant raccoon to skat.

Yup, that's my wife, all right.

Labor Day Canoemping! (Preparation)

Labor Day was coming....a guaranteed 3-day weekend. What did we want to do with it? A camping trip out east...Daingerfield or Caddo Lake sounded like a nice plan, since we hadn't been to either in a while. But then another idea struck...to do something we'd only done together once before -- canoemping! The Brazos River wasn't as far as Village Creek had been, and it would be a completely different type of terrain -- a wider river, cliffs, gravel, and considerably less sand....or so we hoped. I suggested this on the Wednesday before said weekend, and we were going to browse Academy for fun while mulling it over...but after 3 wrong turns and thus a very scenic route, we realized that our heads were really already in the river. The hell with it, we're going!

But first, we needed some changes to our gear. We remembered what worked well and what didn't with our first canoe camping trip. Ponchos = good...having only a basic rain cover cinched shut to hold towels and sleeping bags = bad. Our first time, we had a torrential downpour that made sure everything was soaked. We also realized we had over packed, treating it like car camping. We decided we needed to do a little homework, so we continued on to Academy.

I've said before how bad I can be when surrounded by camping gear. We did try to rein it in...honest! We managed not to blow our wad on the kayak we saw. Instead, we noted items that would be useful: a decent camp stove, individual air mats that were smaller and lighter, a waterproof bag for things we wanted to keep dry (like sleeping bags), a griddle for a cooking surface that would eliminate the need for the big mess kit (or so we thought), microfilter water bottles (that sounded promising), and shortly before we left, we saw a backpack that looked like an incredible deal - external frame pack, about 2700 cubic inches of storage, and only $40. Wow. I tried it on, and it was easy to size to me...fit well, didn't feel awkward to carry. Yeah, I needed one of these.

But we were good! We didn't buy a thing that night. Instead, the plan was to do a little research (whether microfilter bottles work well, among other things), and swing by the army-navy surplus place to see if they had anything to beat the prices we saw. If not, then I would pick up stuff based on a list we would compile during my lunch hour (yes, we'd have a gear checklist for once).

So Thursday, I compiled the checklist as best I could...it used most of two columns in a 10-point font, and even then, we were still adding things as we realized we'd need them (oh yeah, no bathrooms...put toilet paper and a camp shovel on there). According to das intarwebs, mainly backpacking sites frequented by people who go way out into the wilderness, microfilter bottles are a very good thing to have, with maybe some iodine tablets as an emergency backup. So, crazy as it may sound, 2 microfilter bottles were to be our only water supply for 3 days.

Of course, by the time I got out of work, I had an appointment to fix someone's computer later that evening, so I glanced around the army/navy place (sadly, I wasn't too impressed with their camping or backpacking equipment...it may have been rugged, but it was a bit heavy and overkill for our needs). The guy running the place was pretty friendly, though...it was like visiting the lonely kid whose only desire in the world is to personally show you every single odd item he's collected in his lifetime.

So, with an hour and a half till my client, I whipped into Academy and quickly got everything on the list as well as a few other useful goodies...good thing we'd been there the night before and decided on everything we would want. Heck, I was still early to do some work and earn a bit to help pay for the trip.

Late Thursday night finds the girls and I wandering around in Walmart. They were searching for fabric, while I gave in to a whim and bought my very first harmonica. Brandy giggled at me, while Angela took one look and said, "oh, hell no..." What? It's a camping instrument! I had never played one except for a little bit of blowing the whole thing when I was a kid, making horribly discordant music as kids often tend to do.

Friday at work could not move any slower. I swear, it felt like I had finished all my work for the day by 8:30 am and then had nothing but extra time to kill until Brandy picked me up around 6:30 that evening. To make it even more frustrating, the boss said everyone could go at about 2pm....leaving me alone in the building for over 4 hours...yup, the universe wanted to emphasize the wait.

At long last, we were on our way home, although we did stop again at Academy for "just a couple more things." Then we spent the next several hours gathering everything together, sorting out what food we would take, and getting it all packed up. I don't think I packed the backpack as well as I could have...it was a little wobbly.

Just as the packing is finished, there turns out to be a bit of drama with the roommate, so we didn't actually get to bed till well after 2am. It was hard enough to fall asleep -- we were pretty much wired...but we knew we'd need to sleep at least a little, or we'd kill ourselves the next day from fatigue.