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Submitted by: Pete Paddlia
Before I ever went canoeing I had no hope to try it. The notion of canoeing never occurred to me when I was younger because I had no friends who paddled canoes or kayaks. And Bob, a pal of mine was recently curious as to why some folks go canoeing rather than doing other things in their spare time. For a few minutes I tried to teach co-worker Bob on the best aspects of canoeing but it just wasn’t happening. As I explained to Bob the finer points of canoeing, he just wasn’t getting it, or possibly I wasn’t painting the precise impression. So with only one alternative remaining to convert Bob’s views on canoeing, I invited him out for a few hours of canoeing downward the local creek, in central Pennsylvania.
June was nearly exhausted. And I had some concern that I chose the wrong weekend to show Bob how to canoe because the weather was going to be overbearingly humid, according to the local weatherman. I sometimes paddled the section of the creek below Glen Hope and thought it would be a good stretch to break Bob in on. We unloaded the canoe from the car and got ready to launch. The forest canopy growth over the creek provided plenty of obscurity from the red-hot sun, and I knew it was going to be a good canoeing experience for the both of us. And I knew I could rely on my knowledge of nature to keep Bob’s interest up. Fishing from a canoe is always fun, so I planned it that Bob would have plenty of time to put his line in the water and catch a few fish, and then he’d be really into canoeing for certain.
Into the trip I mentioned to Bob that we had a few rough spots in the river, but Bob didn’t seem to care. He seemed to care less. Later on that day we paddled upon some really nice farmland and wooded hill sided that did actually impress Bob. I like this part of the creek. Bob was more interested in hunting as he mumbled something about finding the perfect tree for his portable tree stand. I showed Bob the remains of the old Lions Club swimming area, and I told him the story of the accidental drowning that eventually led to the closing of the Lions Club swimming area back in the 1960s. He was really only interested in finishing up this canoe trip before the sun came out at full strength. We then paddled on to the location where I would occasionally camp overnight. Bob said there was a better spot on the other side of the creek and my spot was likely on private property.
The trip was a good trip. On our journey we caught a few carp, pulled over to shore and built a fire for sausages; I also pulled out a few cold beers, which Bob did like. We decided it was time to quickly paddle the two mile stretch home because Bob really seemed to have his fill of canoeing.
Several weeks later we had some rain that raised the creek to a nice paddling level, and I returned to the creek with several other paddlers for another paddle. I really didn’t want to do the identical trip again but I knew we might only have a few more weeks of canoeing then the water levels would begin to drop on all the creeks in the area, so I said to myself let’s do it one more time. On that second canoe trip, while launching my canoe I saw another canoe launch just minutes ahead of me. I knew I’d catch up to them in no time, and as I floated around that bend I did catch them. And it was Bob.
Since then Bob and his wife have wilderness paddled in the Adirondacks.
What a surprise from bob. He is great at hiding his emotions. He never suggested to me once that he would pursue canoeing ever again.
About the Author: Learn more about canoeing at the Moshannon Falls Canoeing Resource.
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