We got the kids out of bed and kicked preparations into high gear. "How far are we going to float?" I asked Dan as we drove towards the river. "From the bridge to the park," he said. "How far is that?" I asked. "Not sure," was his confident reply.
We have this problem. We love adventure, but we forget sometimes that small children are involved and bite off more than we can handle. I didn't want this to be one of those times. I felt a little relieved as the drive from the park to the bridge was only about 12 minutes. "It can't be that far by river, " I thought to myself.
Dan pulled off onto the side of the road near a small creek. "We're paddling that?" I asked. I was pretty sure we would be walking in that trickle. "No," he said, "that's where we're putting the canoes in. It will meet the river eventually, I think..." "Oh," was my heartfelt reply. We drug the canoes down a long steep embankment to the creek. And by drug, I literally mean "Dan is the only one of the Van Pattens that's actually strong enough to carry a canoe farther then, oh say, five feet. So we push, pull, and drag." That's how we roll, and I vow to workout more every time I do it.
We put the kids in the canoes and Dan and I "drug" the canoes down this small trickle toward what he said would be the river. After we had been doing this awhile, I had my doubts and started committing to more exercise if I made it home again. We passed a dead snake. I don't mind snakes, especially dead ones, but Dan doesn't like them at all. He informed me that if we came across a live one, he and his canoe would be sailing across the water at high speeds past me. "Every man for himself," were the words I think I heard him mutter.
Thankfully this crick did eventually empty into Crooked Creek, which was fairly high and flowing quite nicely. We were all glad to see it, and gratefully hopped into the canoe to float instead of drag.
The float started out perfect! It's a beautiful float, and I hoped it wouldn't be too short. The wildlife was abundant. It started out with a bald eagle flying right over us. Then there were deer, fish, turkey, lizards, snakes, turtles, and the most exciting of all - a black bear! My first sighting in Arkansas.
After we had been on the river about three days, I decided that the float was definitely not too short, and may never end. Crooked Creek got it's name for a reason! That 12 minute drive by road was absolutely NOT a good judge of the distance on the water! I was getting a little agitated because the child in the front of my boat was not pulling his weight with the paddling. Understandably so though, because we had been paddling for so many days by then. I think he was tired, and he wasn't the only one.
Every few minutes he would decide to rest from paddling and fish. Fish! I was happy to let him fish when we set out days ago, but by this time all I wanted to do was paddle down this crooked river to the end. Why fish when you can paddle to your car and comfort and real food! But, fish he did, and I tried to humor him. He threw his line in the water as I paddled furiously to try to keep up with Dan, which if no one has noticed is twice my size and has four times my strength. It equals to one paddle stroke to my fifteen..... Zack was in no real hurry to help as he relaxed in the front of the boat and slowly reeled his line in.
"Mom, stop!" He shouted seconds after he begin to fish for the forty-third time. "My line is stuck." "Really? Now?' I thought. Dan was too far ahead to paddle back and help. I was going to have to be a big girl and paddle back up stream to save the line and lure. I was not happy about it. "What did you do that for?" I asked harshly. He looked at me like I might be a crazy woman. "J=
Please just paddle, Mom," he said. We got somewhat close to the stuck line, and he jumped into the river to see what he could salvage. I got out of the boat to hold it in place against the current. As I watched my son wade out into the middle of the river, I heard a commotion on the bank across from us. It sounded like a large animal lumbering through the woods. "That can't be a deer," I thought to myself. I was quite distracted watching the bushes bend under the weight of this creature while Zack was still busying himself with the fishing line. All of the sudden it burst through an opening in the trees - a black bear! I couldn't believe it! Right there, on the other side of the river! Excitement turned to fear as I realized there was a black bear right there on the other side of the river!
"Zack! Zack! Get in the boat!!" I shouted a little frantically. If the bear didn't know we were there before, it did now. I had just made sure of it with my shouting. I was pretty confident that fat black bear was going to come down to the river and eat my child as he collected his fishing line. "Now!!" I yelled, 'There's a bear!!" Of course Zack stopped what he was doing to look because, who doesn't want to see a bear? That made me a little more frantic and caused me to do a bit more yelling. I finally got my son, the fishing line and the pole in the canoe. I grabbed my paddle and took off with the renewed energy that comes with the knowledge that there is a bear swimming after your boat and about to eat your children. If the Olympic committee had been there, they would have signed me up, no questions asked.
Of course, the bear was nowhere to be seen by this time, but I wasn't taking the time to turn around and make sure. I had already let him know that we were on his river, and I was going to do my best to get off of it.
I caught up with Dan quicker than we all thought possible. He was extremely disappointed to have missed the bear sighting altogether, and was much more calm about the whole affair. He suggested we paddle back up the river to take a look. I gave him a "look" that promptly made him decide heading on down the river was by far the best idea he could come up with.
We paddled for another two or three days when we finally came upon the first pull out we had we seen. A road! People! I was excited. "Dan," I asked, "do you know how much farther it is to the car." "No idea," he answered. I was determined to find out. I found a couple of paddlers that looked like they might know the river, and asked how much farther we had to go. "Oh, it's about four more miles," they said nonchalantly, "should take you about another four hours." The look on my face must have been something because they immediately offered to give us a ride out. I didn't hesitate. "We'll take it!" I said. I walked over to Dan to give him the joyful news that we had an out. He wasn't thrilled at all. "No, we can do it," he said. My heart sank as the canoers drove off in the comfort of their car, leaving us to paddle four more hours.
I looked at Dan with the attitude of a martyr. I took in the situation, and came up with what I thought was a fantastic idea. I suggested we ditch my canoe and all six of us ride in his. He looked at me like I was a crazy woman. I was beginning to feel like I was one! "I'm tired," I whined, "I want to go home. I don't want to paddle four more miles with a non paddling helper!" "Why not? You used to not be so wimpy," was the only reply he could come up with.
Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands. I thanked God for cell phones, and called my sister and begged her to drive over and bail us out. I even bribed her. I admit it.
She came. God bless her.
We've talked about finishing Crooked Creek ever since that day - it has yet to happen. Maybe when the children are older and the bears are gone.....
