For ten years a few* of us have been taking a solo canoe trip on the Wisconsin River every Autumn, usually the first or second weekend in October. The group changes and morphs, and while a few regulars are annual participants, there’s a fair amount of variability in the group composition. We call ourselves the Order of Wisconsin River Lovers. Sorry, OWRL makes a crappy acronym, so we drop the R.
Funny thing about this little overnighter/20-something mile paddle is how often it changes the lives of the participants in pretty dramatic ways. It’s often the catalyst to push someone over the edge, from idea to commitment, from passive to active, from contemplative to execution. Participants have chosen to quit jobs, move to new states, start new businesses, and generally make some pretty serious course alterations.
The rules of the OWL are as follows:
- No tandem canoes unless they’re paddled solo.
- No girls.
- No sniveling.
Of course, I get to paddle with Canoelover Jr., which over the years has changed from a little boy in the front of a tandem canoe to a young, strong man in his own solo. The kid has been paddling since before he could walk, so he’s a better paddler than me, and to see him in his own boat is a joy to me.
I enjoy a good meal, and OWL trips are a bit food-centric. Radiohead’s wife made Cornish pasties for dinner this year, and we’re grateful to Amanda for her culinary skills and generosity.
I learned quite a bit on this trip, mostly that we need better communication. As the group has grown, we’ve stretched out as is necessary to keep crowding to a minimum. Mostly the main group breaks up organically to little clusters of 3-5 canoes.
This year there was a weird wind, and the water was at 9 feet, just below flood stage. A microburst caught Inquisitor off guard, and he was blown into the drink. Since I usually sweep the group, I rescued him (and Chef B, whom he accidentally pulled in during the rescue). The front of the group was oblivious that this happened until we grouped up for a floating lunch, several hours later.
Lesson: We have marine radios, and we’re on the water. We should, uh, use them. Nothing life threatening because they were properly clothed, but still…communication.
I learned the Exponential Rule of Group Management, that is, managing the activities of 16 people is twice as hard as managing the activities and movements of 12. Again, not life threatening, but surely a lot more work.
Most of all, I learned what a little time on the water can do, even if it’s just an overnight.
Respectfully submitted,
Canoelover
P.S. Thanks to Beaglefur for his amazing pictures. For more examples of his work, go here.
*My definition of few has, shall we say, evolved.