|Sage, on the Black River, Summer of 1975|
This is another of post about my early canoe adventures. Unfortunately, I don’t have many photos from this era of my life. As for the title of this post, it comes from a book by Patrick McManus that I came across many years after this event. When I first saw the book, I thought he’d stolen my story!
Walking out of the store with a bottle of Coke in one hand, I ripped open a bag of peanuts with my teeth and shook a few in my mouth. Looking up, I saw a Chatham County sheriff’s car over by our vehicles. My stomach knotted as I walked over to where Larry, my uncle was waiting. The deputy, wearing a protective rain cover on his billed hat, walked up from the other direction.
“Ya’ll boys ain’t going to run that river today, are you?” he asked my uncle in a slow drawl.
We plan on it,” Larry answered.
“That ain’t a good idea,” he continued. “We’ve gotten a lot of rain and that river is angry.”
“We’re going to check out the gauge before we put in,” Larry assured the man.
“Well, if ya’ll boys go down that river, I ain’t gonna go lookin’ for you,” the deputy said.
“We’re not asking you to,” Larry responded.
The deputy looked at the canoes on the two cars, then padded his pistol and said, “I ought to save ya’ll boys lives and shoot some holes in those canoes.”
“Please sir, don’t do that,” my uncle responded.
It was in the spring of 1975 and my brother, my Dad and I had met up with Larry at a country store and gas station outside of Pittsboro, North Carolina with the thought of running the Haw River. None of us had ever been on the river, but Larry had talked to some who had and we had a plan to run it if the water wasn’t too high. We drove over to the US 15-501 bridge and parked beside the road and walked down the slippery back to check the gauge. The river was running at 3 feet above normal. Larry’s sources had told him not to try to run it in an open canoe if the river was more than six inches. A few years later, I would run the river when the gauge was at 3 feet, but then I was in a kayak and had sharpened my paddling skills a bit. It was an incredible run with an eight foot standing wave below Gabriel’s Bend swallowing us whole and then spitting us out. We could have never run that river successfully in open canoes. That deputy was right; he’d probably been looking for us as that river would have eaten our boats and struggling in the middle of boiling water. But on that day a few years later, I was in a kayak and the river was a blast.
Although he was my uncle, Larry always seemed to be more of an older brother to me and he was much closer to my age than to my dad’s age. When he graduated from high school in 1969, he joined the Navy and spent four years as a corpsman and somehow managed to stay out of Vietnam even though for half his enlistment he was assigned to the Marine Corps. When Larry got out of the Navy, I was in high school. He started attending a Community College and would later transfer to Appalachian State. Unbeknownst to each other, we both purchased a canoe within weeks of each other and through our college years we often paddled together. The failed Haw River expedition was just the first of many.
Knowing we couldn’t safely run the Haw, we decided to try the Rocky River, which parallels the Haw. The Rocky River eventually merges with the Deep River which later merges into the Haw form the Cape Fear River. I’m not sure how we decided on the Rocky River. Maybe the deputy suggested it, but I remember we looked at maps at the Haw River Bridge and decided to check it out. From the bridges, the Rocky looked promising, so we dropped the boats and shuttled the cars and began the run. If the water had been much lower, we’d be walking much of the river. There were lots of ripples and rock gardens and some short and exciting drops. Larry and my brother were in his canoe; my father was in the back of mine. It was the first time we’d paddled and, as far as I knew, my dad had never paddled a canoe on a river.
At one of the last pieces of fast water before we got to the 15-501 bridge, we were swept up into the trees. I thought things were going ok as I got low in the boat and tried to steer us back into the flow, when I realized my dad was out of the boat and holding onto the canoe with one hand and to a tree with another. I never figured out how he got out of the boat without me knowing it, but I tried to stabilize the boat as he crawled back in. But as he let go of the tree and jumped into the boat, it rolled and we were both in the freezing water being swept downriver. Larry was yelling for us to hold onto our paddles and he and my brother were collecting stuff from our boat that was floating downriver. At the bottom of the fast water, with everything collected and the water dumped from the boat, we got back in and fifteen minutes later arrived at the bridge. We’d talked about going further down the river, but with my Dad and I both being wet, we decided that might not be the thing to do. As for my canoe, it had a ding on the keel that continued to remind me of the Rock River. After this canoe was stolen, I would often look at the keels similar looking canoes tied on top of vehicles, hoping to find my old canoe.
Over the next few years, Larry and I would often paddle together. Sometimes my brother would join us (my father never did join us on these trips even though he did on occasion paddle with me). We did several trips along the Black River, including an overnighter where I was in the bow as we floated down the river while fishing upstream. In a quiet but serious voice, my uncle instructed me not to move. I wasn’t sure what was up, but the out of the corner of my eye, I realized we were about to bump up to a log. Curled up on the log and looking at me, at eye level, with his tongue darting in and out, was a fat Cottonmouth. Had we bumped the log, the snake would have been in the boat. Larry safely maneuvered us around the log. On another trip, we explored the Uwharrie River (where we were surprised to find a dam that required a difficult portage). And then there was long day my brother and I joined Larry for a long paddle on the South Fork of the New River. It rained so hard that day that we had to regularly stop and dump the water out of our canoes and the only respite we found were under bridge abutments. Like trolls, we ate lunch under one such bridge.
In the spring of ’76, Larry called me and asked if I would be interested in a kayak. He’d just purchased one and a friend of his had another one to sale. I brought the boat and we then began another chapter of our lives.
Monday, November 28, 2011
"They Shoot Canoes, Don't They?" More of Sage's Canoe Tales
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I can only imagine you have quite a lot of great chapters from your life...and hopefully you'll post them...I bet you had an exciting childhood mostly, from I've already read! An angry river is one I would for sure stay far away from....but I know how the boys always toughed everything out! These are great adventures to read too, even if you ate lunch in the same places the trolls did! ha ha!ReplyDelete
Sound like you had some fun exciting times canuing in your younger years! It was fun reading. Thanks!ReplyDelete
I'm really glad you managed to bypass the cottonmouth!ReplyDelete
It sounds like you and Larry had quite the adventures together over the years. Exciting tales, Sage.ReplyDelete
Ain't no life like one that is being lived to the max.ReplyDelete
I'll never forget my first canoe trips--Current River in the Ozarks. Little did I know it would lead to a lifetime fascination with running clear streams.ReplyDelete
What a wonderful story and I can just see the whole thing, including the deputy.ReplyDelete
That photo is perfect, too - at least you have that one!
This comment has been removed by the author.ReplyDelete
Hahaha...Love that picture of you...it's perfect...needs to be on the cover of your book;)ReplyDelete
River expeditions bring out adventure- AND the best in personalities;) I had to laugh at picturing your dad somehow getting out of the canoe and hanging on to it and the tree:)
My boys went on a mountain/river rapid/ canoe trip this summer. I am surprised they made it home from the stories they told.
Nicely written...I could picture it all!
Sounds like the beginnings of Deliverance 2ReplyDelete
Karen, I've been writing chapters in my life here since 2004! I still have many more chapters to writeReplyDelete
Tim, I've had a good time throughout my life--I've been blessed that way
Judy, I told that story (in more detail) in a post about snake encounters
Hilary, yes, we had some good times and hopefully they'll be more
Walking guy: You're right!
Randall, have you wrote about your first canoe trip? You're right about the draw of a clear running stream
Lynn, that photo is a little damaged from the years--it was taken by a friend of my uncle's on the Black River--he's a professional photographer and after the trip sent me a 10 x 14 b&w photograph
Dawn, yes, it is a good picture (I didn't have a beard in those days)
Charles, thankfully, the "deliverance aspect" didn't continue BUT (as I'm thinking about this), just like in Deliverance, they did dam up that river and part of the great white water on the Haw is now a part of the B. Everett Jordan Lake. I haven't heard of any hands floating up above the surface, yet!
i hate to imagine what we would have done with a canoe before we were a little more mature...we did canoe on trips as i shared before but...fun story...ReplyDelete
You have some great stories. I'm laughing a little about the "Deliverance" comment...ReplyDelete
Oh, and I don't know how many seconds ticked by in your morning meeting, but if it was like any meetings I have to go to, the seconds probably seem infinite
Oh, this brought back so many memories. I love river canoeing. I worked as a guide for about 10 years for a local outfitter. Mostly the Rio Grande through Big Bend and the Pecos in west Texas. Lots of stories to tell.ReplyDelete
Great stories. My first canoe trip was with a friend in the Adirondacks; we couldn't figure out which end we were supposed to steer from. Shortly after, my friend went off to do Outward Bound and eventually become an instructor there and most excellent canoist. I stuck with sailing.ReplyDelete
Over from Hilary's to say well done .. and what a great post .. I think you've got the basis of a cool movie here!ReplyDelete
While the rest of you were thinking "Deliverance", I was thinking "A River Runs Through It".ReplyDelete
Nieces, nephews and grandkids who may never know you will have your stories and think you are an amazing fellow who lived in the best of times, before the rivers were glassed in and the cottonmouths got lawyered up.
Great photo of you. I should post a companion photo of me in 1975 when I was 4. ;-)ReplyDelete
Brian, I vaguely remember you writing about a canoe tripReplyDelete
Caty, remember, Deliverance was supposed to be in Georgia and filmed (appropriately, if I remember correctly) in SOUTH Carolina :)
Ellen, I'd love to hear your stories of working as a guide on the Rio Grande & Pecos. Thanks for stopping by.
Meg, I enjoy sailing too, but don't have as much experience with a sail boat as I do with canoes.
Daryl, thanks for stopping bye and if there is ever a movie made of this, I will see to it that there are no guys squealing
DEK, that's one of my favorite movies!
Murf, go for it!
Thanks for the nice comment this morning!!ReplyDelete
wonderful slice of Sage's life story :)ReplyDelete
Just made it over from Hilary's place to read. You would enjoy kayaking in springtime in my neck of the woods.ReplyDelete
While some were thinking "A River Runs Through It" or "Deliverance", I was thinking of the 1981 book by outdoor humorist, Pat McManus. He has a series of books full of short stories and one of them is titled the same as your blog post.