Down River Kayaks

CHUNG CHUNG!

In the outdoor paddling world, family canoe-based expeditions are considered especially heinous. In Northern Pennsylvania, the dedicated paddlers who undertake these vicious weekends are members of an elite squad known as the “bloggers who get tricked into other people’s family debacles”. These are their stories.

WARNING!  This is part 2 of a trilogy.  And in George Lucas fashion there is a prequel.  Haven’t read the previous posts?  Before you read this post, click here first: the Prequel and here: Part 1.

[Scene opens on a peaceful stretch of highway as four happy travelors head towards "The Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania"...a.k.a. Pine Creek Gorge.]

Zach:  ”Boy oh boy, three days in the woods with Brian’s family, this is going to be awesome!”

Brian: <groans as if he has eaten three-day-dead seafood>

Jackie: “I’ve heard such great things about these trips.  Is it true that every night we group hug and then eat smores?”

Brian: <knocks himself out to avoid answering>

Jess: “Sure Jax.  You’ll definitely want a hug tonight…”

"Keep smiling or no one gets lunch"

And so began the first part of our trip to the infamous chasm of northern PA.  Today I will cover:

1: The Worst Hotel in Pennsylvania

2: People Who Can’t Tell Time

3: One canoe, Two Captains

Because we set out from Virginia pretty late on a Friday night, we wouldn’t reach the put-in until one or two in the morning.  Our plan had been to find a place to pitch our tent near the put-in so that we could sleep until the others arrived Saturday morning.  But as the drive wore on, we made the weary-eyed decision to find a hotel so we could start our three day canoe trip rested and fresh instead of tired and broken.

And so with all of the nice beds in the world, chance guided us to

<cue dramatic music>

THE WORST HOTEL IN PENNSYLVANIA

Won't say the name of the hotel, but it rhymes with "Wenn Pells"

I won’t call them out by name, but if you recognize them from this cleverly taken photo, you might symphathize with me a little more.  We had gotten their number and were told a reasonable price that apparently did not include about a billion dollars in taxes, tourist fees, and charges per toilet flush.  So by the time we were standing in the lobby of this joint, which by the way, looked fairly classy, it was about 2 AM.  Far past the time when you can make rationale choices concerning what is too much to pay for a bed.  Apparently it costs more when four people are consuming oxygen in a hotel room.  About $50 more.  And then tax, and blah, and blah, and

“Shut up you foul old crone!  Take my credit card and give me the damn key!”

So I was a little tired.  So I let them take my credit card in the back and give it the Deliverance treatment.  I didn’t care, because the lobby looked classy, I could see where the coffee would be in the morning, and I wasn’t sleeping in the car or the side of the road.

Ha.  Should have slept in the ally.

Our first warning should have been this guy holding the door for us

As we went deeper into the hotel, it felt more and more like Jack Nicholson was going to jump out and start screaming about rum.  Imagine that movie, that amazing hotel…now remove the grandeur, shrink the hotel room down into a walk in closet, and dirty up the carpet with some port-o-john water.  Hold that image!  That’s were we slept for the cost of a small former Soviet country.

Wow, they spared no expense making this place suck

Oh well.  In the end, I woke up feeling more like Miley Cyrus and less like Lindsey Lohan (if you don’t understand that reference, try this: more like a happy young kitten, and less like a mangy, rabid, tick-infested racoon).

And now…People Who Can’t Tell Time

"Damn. I wish I knew how this thing worked."

“Good grief!  How long is this stupid post gonna last!”

Relax, this part’s short.

Now it’s Saturday morning, and everyone’s at the put-in.  This part is supposed to be quick and easy.  Unload boats, fill with gear and people, kiss the shuttle bunnies, and off we go for three days of fun and adventure!

Oops, guess no one told the shuttle bunnies.  So instead a couple of the paddlers (one being me) had to go with them to help move the large number of vehicles to the end of the line.  No problem, I’m told it’s not a bad drive.  WRONG.  It’s a three and a half hour round trip shuttle.  Suddenly, our put-in time moves from early morning to early afternoon, and while the others have spent the day lazily lounging at the put in with all the snacks, I’ve been trying my best to soothe the now grumpy shuttle bunnies who have been wrongly bamboozled into thinking they would have time for something fun after this was all over.

The Shuttle Bunnies stop to make minor repairs on our grueling 3.5 hour shuttle

But, even that came to pass.  Cars moved, and I’ve been assured that we will still have no trouble making enough miles each day to make it back to Virginia while I still have a job.

So now…One canoe, Two Captains

<Flashback>

Zach: “Hey Jess, you look lovely today.  What do you say we bring two boats on this trip instead of just our one big canoe?”

Jess: “Don’t be an idiot.  Taking a single canoe to share is obviously the single best option and will lead to the most optimal and serene weekend possible.  I can’t believe you would even suggest such a stupid plan as two separate boats.  Geez.  Moron.”

Zach: “Ok, you’re right.  Since neither of us ever likes getting their way, and since we aren’t stubborn folks, we should have no trouble working together in a single canoe.  By the way, did I mention that you look lovely today?”

Jess: <round house kicks Zach upside the head>

So of course, five minutes into our paddle, the two captains of this single canoe can’t seem to agree on the best way to travel down river.  I prefer to point the boat at rocks that would sink the titanic and paddle full speed ahead, while Jess prefers to take three strokes, turn her head around 180 degrees, and then shoot laser beams out of her eyeballs at me.

After I eat this paddle, you're getting eye lasers to the throat.

Somehow we made it to our first camp that night with my lifejacket only slightly singed from laser blasts (I have cat-like reflexes).  But that my friends is a story for Part 3.  Come back again soon for the final installment in my three (plus a prequel!) part adventure.

This post is the second part to a three part trilogy…continue the saga….here!