Today I weather the aftermath of a great time. I wonder why great times so often come with a period of penitence and recovery. At least I don't have the hang over that's always accompanied canoing in the past. No, I'm only enduring the microbial attack on the length of my gastro-intestinal system that serves as coda every year. I will spare detail, but to put a point on it, it would be irresponsible to stray too far from my rest room today.
I couldn't have wished for a better group. Cliff jumping was minimal. Bill has never fallen out of his canoe before and I've never been rammed as hard. (Although Cheryl was behind it-it's not what it sounds like). We were rather adult this year, enjoying hummus and bagel chips with the steady intake of beer. I don't think we've spent so much time tied together shooting the shit in a long time. I know we've never come home with beer before, a testiment to our rather surprising foresight. Four of the group had never been on the water before, but I think everyone did an outstanding job and from where I sit, it was the best time in a long time.
I like the metaphor of everyone kinda slowly drifting and tied to each other. I rarely get to feel that close to people and I didn't want to seperate at the end to get back into dock. Thank to everyone who carved time out to be with me and Jay on sunday, and on such short notice, I sometimes don't have any clue how I'm gonna get y'all back for all the good feelings you give me. I never have a clue, I guess. Thanks to everyone who helped plan it -Greg and Krista, Cathy and Bill made it great. I missed those of you that couldn't make it, but you missed more.
But next year everyone uses "port" and "starboard".