Quote:
Originally Posted by Rex E.
Three nights only....that is sad to hear. I miss my "once a month, every month" float trips on the rivers of southeastern Missouri. Winter in the snow and ice was the best as you had the river to yourself......
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In my circle, float trips became a dare. Late on a Friday night, usually a keg party of course, someone would blurt out "Black River" or "Jack's Fork", and anyone who was not a wimp would file out the door.
Canoes and coolers were loaded and we were off on a 100 mile or more drive.
One particular trip, a buddy decided he wanted one of the "curves ahead" road signs that look like a snake, so we pull over at the next one we see and spin the nuts off the back and pull it down. Headlights are coming around the corner, so the sign is quickly tossed in the ditch and we all act like we're finishing up taking a good whiz.
It's none other than Iron County Sheriff C.W. "Cub" Rubell, with the county judge in the back seat (I shit you not, total Dukes of Hazard stuff).
So they want to know what we're up to, because farmer Smith had some guns stolen earlier in the evening. Searched our car and took about 2.5 cases of beer since none of us were 21. They never even noticed the sign post had no sign on it, and when they drove off, we retrieved our curvy arrow sign from the ditch and headed for camp.
We went back in to Lesterville about 6 a.m. and bought 3 cases from the local store through the back door before the place was even open, with the promise that we'd never tell where we got it.
Ah, memories!
Earlier in my youth, my parents took us camping all the time. Family of 5 and tent and dining fly and all our gear in a Plymouth Valiant. Dad knew how to pack. We saw every state in the union and a couple trips to Canada before we were teenagers.
One summer, when our home burned down, we camped in that tent for 3 months. As Bill Cosby says, "How can you not know you are poor?"