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Boundary Waters Quetico Forum Trip Reports Trip Report - Broken Paddle, Tacky Boat |
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05/26/2022 04:12PM
New Trip Report posted by missmolly
Trip Name: Broken Paddle, Tacky Boat.
Entry Point: Other
Click Here to View Trip Report
Trip Name: Broken Paddle, Tacky Boat.
Entry Point: Other
Click Here to View Trip Report
I will paddle eternal, Kevlar and carbon.
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05/26/2022 08:15PM
I love how your story narrates the overarching story so well but still leaves plenty of room for the imagination to wander.
I kept saying to myself, "Isn't this something? Isn't this something?"
Thanks for taking the time to share.
I kept saying to myself, "Isn't this something? Isn't this something?"
Thanks for taking the time to share.
05/26/2022 08:56PM
missmolly,
You are an exceptional writer. Your story of this great journey is somehow both spare and lush. I've taken less of a journey with the writers of some 300 page books. Thank you.
You are an exceptional writer. Your story of this great journey is somehow both spare and lush. I've taken less of a journey with the writers of some 300 page books. Thank you.
“A lake is … the Earth’s eye, looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature.” - Henry David Thoreau
05/26/2022 10:02PM
KawnipiKid: "missmolly,
You are an exceptional writer. Your story of this great journey is somehow both spare and lush. I've taken less of a journey with the writers of some 300 page books. Thank you."
I'm sticking with "shucks," but as delivered by the L. Olivier of lions.
I will paddle eternal, Kevlar and carbon.
05/27/2022 07:41PM
Great report--love the alliteration ("...simply sat in the sand...") and all the images generated by your descriptions of people and places.
TZ
TZ
If you want to go quickly, go alone. If you want to go far, go together. African Proverb
05/28/2022 12:23PM
I was 19 and raised in Columbus.
Thanks, TZ.
Here's an anecdote I forgot to share. On the lower river, somewhere in Mississippi, I met a Baptist college music professor and his son. He sang "Old Man River" for me, which was a thrill. I asked him to sing it again and again and he generously did.
That afternoon, as we sat on the bank, butterflies arrived, hundreds of them. They landed on me until I was frosted with color. I kept very still and they stayed. Not a single one landed on the professor and his son. I've never had that happen again, but once was enough for I remember my quiet, near-trembling awe.
Thanks, TZ.
Here's an anecdote I forgot to share. On the lower river, somewhere in Mississippi, I met a Baptist college music professor and his son. He sang "Old Man River" for me, which was a thrill. I asked him to sing it again and again and he generously did.
That afternoon, as we sat on the bank, butterflies arrived, hundreds of them. They landed on me until I was frosted with color. I kept very still and they stayed. Not a single one landed on the professor and his son. I've never had that happen again, but once was enough for I remember my quiet, near-trembling awe.
I will paddle eternal, Kevlar and carbon.
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