You would think I would have all my dates and figures together before I started this, but I planned on documenting this and it's already starting so... here we go!
In the summer of 1974, at least I think it was '74... I was pretty young and like I pointed out I am not currently loaded down with facts. Let's just say it was the early mid 70's and pork chop side burns, bell bottom jeans and granny glasses were all the rage. In our little neck of the woods canoeing started to gain a popular foothold. At least it seemed that way to a 4 year old! I suppose it could have been bigger than the frisbee and I wouldn't have had any idea. To me canoeing was really taking off. About that time my Dad, two Uncles and a friend of theirs embarked on a VERY ambitious canoe trip.
When I say ambitious... I want to make clear that when they retell the misery of their trip it seems like they literally made NO ATTEMPT at any real planning. Granted it is much different now. I can pull satellite imagery of the entire river in mere seconds, search thousands of expert's opinions on best tactics and the best food to pack. They had a launch point and an approximate time frame that was, I believe, based around when they all had to be at work on Tuesday morning and beer. A lot of beer. By their telling not enough beer.
The Allegheny River is a main tributary of the Ohio River and it joins the Monongahela in Pittsburgh, PA to form said Ohio. This adventure takes place far north of the Steel City, starting in Warren, PA following the Allegheny to East Brady, PA with about 100 miles of water between them. Four days and three nights, one hundred nautical miles and all the beer they could carry... with no plan.
I don't remember dropping the guys off to start their journey, maybe I wasn't there for it. I do, however, remember being there as they paddled into the boat launch in East Brady. Pouring rain. Four beaten down, but not defeated, men. I don't really remember much talking or celebrating. I actually believe we drove home in silence.
Years later after hearing the stories about the trip I'm certain we drove home in silence. The whole trip was a big sunburnt, soggy, snaky, drunken, soggy, bug bitten, drunken, exhausting mess. A funny thing would happen though when they talked about it. You could tell they loved it. It was tough and it sucked most of the time but they really had fun. They even did it again a year or so later!
Jim, my father, my Uncle Harry and my Uncle Bruce would entertain the entire family with the retelling of the "Canoe Trip" for years to come. So, to no ones surprise, almost 40 years later we still had them telling us the story of "grapefruit breakfast"* and paddling in circles. We enjoyed these stories so much that a few of my cousins and myself jokingly talked about doing the trip. So we could "join the club" if you will. So we could compare notes with our fathers and swap stories. I don't think any of us really thought we would actually consider doing it. Just the thought of it was enough. Right?
On December 22nd 2012 we laid my Uncle Bruce to rest. Tears, a folded flag and 21 guns. A family unsure what to do... how to get through this. Lost.
It was right about this time my cousin Seth, Harry's son, leans into me and whispers "We're doing the trip." His eyes told me it wasn't a suggestion.
Today is February 5th 2013 and here is the plan: Seth (still Harry's son) and myself (Patrick, Jim's son) in boat #1 and Mike and Mark (Bruce's sons) in boat #2 and maybe some more... we'll see. Memorial Day weekend we will attempt to trace our fathers' trip. Maybe we'll remember the stories a little better. Maybe we'll get to know our fathers a little better. Maybe we're saying goodbye the only way we know how.
Welcome to our River Quest.
* The story of "grapefruit breakfast" will get retold here at a later date.
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