Kayaks

My Dad and I went canoeing many times. I think the first time I took him on Big Creek in the Explorer canoe hooked him. We got in just north of town and got out near old highway 34. It was after a rain so what was normally a rocky stream was a raging boat ride. Actually the creek was only a few feet deep in most places but it was still a fun trip. He loved it.

We floated down Big Creek, Big Cedar, and the Skunk River from Merrimac to Oakland Mills. I still have a piece of ancient pottery I found on a sandbar in the middle of the river. Floating down Big Creek or any float trip was like a trip to another place. The rocky bluffs on both sides of the creek made us feel like we were in the wilderness. The abundant wild life was a constant source of beauty. The whole thing was like a vacation to Colorado.

One of Dad’s neighbors, Clarence Rouse, introduced Dad to kayaking. Clarence had two kayaks that he built from kits. They had a wooden frame and were covered with a vinyl like material. They were very sturdy and could withstand major whitewater conditions. Dad went with him several times including a trip down the Buffalo River in Missouri.

That convinced Dad he should build one of his own. He ordered the kit from Folbot. It was very similar to a kit they still sell called the Greenland II. He had all the equipment he would need and was an experienced woodworker. The question, then, was where do you build a boat that size in the wintertime. Building it outside in an Iowa winter was not an option.

The basement at our house was suggested as a possible location. To make sure they could get it out of there once it was built they first brought over a 17 foot board. It would easily go down the steps and into the basement. Ever cautious, they brought Clarence’s boat over and put it in the basement. It had room to spare! So, our basement on Clay Street became the building site for the boat.

Clarence and Dad worked on it diligently for about a month. I helped when I could and when spring came we had a kayak. It returned to the basement only for winter storage and was just turned over outside in the summer. Although Dad used it a lot it was usually stored at our house and he encouraged us to use it.

That boat took the place of the Explorer canoe for us and we used it a lot. I still have two of the paddles but the boat itself is long gone. I miss it but it was heavy and vulnerable to puncture in rocky waters. It repaired easily but it was always a concern.

The last trip we took in it Dad and I got caught in a rainstorm between Rome and Oakland Mills. We waited it out standing under an overhang at Neil Panther’s cabin west of town.

Canoes

When the Explorer Scout Troup disbanded in Mt. Pleasant much of their gear went to whoever wanted it. Clint Rila kept the seventeen-foot canoe and would loan it out to any Scout or former Scout who wanted to use it. He would even let you keep it for extended periods because there just wasn’t much demand for it.

We borrowed that canoe a lot! It was easy to lift up on top of a car, strap it on and carry it off to a river or stream somewhere. We usually used it on the Skunk River, Big Cedar Creek or Big Creek. It was fun to get some other couples and more canoes and go on a float trip. Most of the time the weather was good and we had few problems. At least once the weather was bad.

One time we planned a trip with two other couples. Each couple had their own canoe. We thought we would float down Big Cedar and have a picnic on the way. When the day came it was cool and rainy but we were determined to go anyway. We loaded up our gear and headed for the starting point. By that time it was evident that one of the females was less than excited about going even if the weather got better.

As luck would have it she got wet just getting into the canoe. It went down hill from then on. Becky and I were experienced and dressed for the occasion. I can’t say the doomed couple was. The third couple were prepared and not getting bothered by the circumstances. The male taunted the now discouraged couple and after awhile pulled up next to them and rocked their canoe. The victims over compensated and were in the water in an instant! The female let out a stream of expletives that only fueled the bully.

When they were back in the boat and headed downstream he started in again. Seeing that this could only get a lot worse I encouraged him to leave them alone and he did for a while. By that time the poor couple wanted nothing than to just get out of there, dry out, and get some warm clothes on. We were in the middle of a stretch of the creek between the only exit points, which were simply bridges. There was really no choice but to ride it out. We had planned to go a lot further but the couple and the other two females in the group had enough.

When we did get near the exit point the bully started again with the taunts and then moved in for the boat rocking. Trying to get away the couple tipped again. By then the female was so mad she was spitting bullets. We got out at the bridge, trudged through ankle deep mud and flagged a ride to one of our cars. Eventually we all go home safely. We thought maybe we all just go someone’s house and eat but that was quickly nixed.

The very sad part of this whole story is that the couple that had so much trouble soon divorced. I doubt if it really had anything to do with the canoe trip but I am sure it didn’t help.

My Dad and I canoed a lot together and he even, with the help of a friend, built a kayak. More on that in the next piece.

Rabbits

When Angie aand Heather were young we raised rabbits. They, of course, multiply so quicky you have more than you bargained for. That happened to us. I thought maybe we could sell them to people for food. I probably should have known better since I raised rabbits as a kid.

The trick is to have a litter and raise them to four or five pounds and then sell them as pets or for food. A female rabbit can produce 1000% of her body weight in food in a year. You wean rabbits after about 8 weeks and the female can then be bred for another litter. They usually have seven to ten babies per litter.

Dad helped me build a terrific two-section cage for the rabbits. The buck lived on one side and the mother and babies on the other. They were only allowed together when it was time to make babies. There was a door between the two cages that could be opened at the right times. The cages had narrow mesh wire floor and wider chicken wire on the sides and top. The floor mesh was wide enough to let the manure fall through but support the rabbits’ feet. I was pretty proud of the design and construction.

The cage was located just off our patio and under a small redbud tree. Feeding and watering were easy and rabbit food was cheap in those days. They also loved leftover lettuce and carrot and potato peelings.

Early one morning I heard a rabbit scream! It’s a horrible sound! We had a litter that was about six weeks old at the time. I went out to the cage and found that one of the rabbit’s had got a paw somehow twisted in the wider chicken wire on the side. The rabbits twisting and squirming had only made the situation worse. Its leg was broken and pulled out of joint. I had to cut the wire to get it out. The whole thing saddened me! I gave the rabbit to my neighbor who I am sure had it for dinner.

Shortly after that incident I decided to sell or give away the whole bunch. An old friend, Billy Jackson took the rabbits and cage and I thought I was done with it. That wasn’t the case because he returned it all the next day saying his landlord wouldn’t let him keep them. A few days later another guy took the whole thing off my hands and gave me ten bucks, too. The cage was probably worth twice that.

That was the end of my experience with rabbits. I often think I would like to have a rabbit. They produce the most incredible fertilizer that would be great for my garden. For a while I had a friend whose kids were in 4H and supplied me with a feedbag full of manure two or three times a year. I need to find someone like that again or start rasing rabbits to produce my own.

Bank Poles

I wouldn’t call bank pole fishing a sport. It is more of a harvest of available food. It involves baiting up to five poles and sticking them in the muddy bank along the river. Thus, the name bank poles. All of the poles must be tagged with your name and address and be checked regularly. If you don’t follow the regulations you are very likely to get a ticket. Typically, the poles were just five to six feet long branches cut from trees. On the big end it was chopped to a point so it would stick easily in the bank. On the other a length of line is tied.

I usually used some strong line or string not much longer than the length of the pole. My bait of choice was always a three or four inch sunfish that I had caught in a pond somewhere. I would stick the pole in the bank and let the hooked sunfish swim around near the surface. It was best to fish with a bank pole when the river is rising as the fish feed on what is a new area for them so the lines are often only a few inches from shore.

Most often I did this kind of fishing with a group of two or three friends. We would each put out our lines early in the evening and then go and run them every four hours or so for the next 24 hours. Five lines usually yielded two or three catfish each time and sometimes more.

One guy in our group was particularly annoying. If he knew where your lines were he would run them before you got there and then show the fish off as ones he caught. He was soon out of the group. Another guy liked to do the fishing but didn’t like to do any of the work involved. He always had something he had to do right now when it came time to clean the fish or anything else that required much effort.

I remember once when I put out poles down river about a mile from Oakland Mills. A run of the lines about eight o’clock that evening had produced good results including a three pound cat. Nobody was willing, that night to run them again around midnight so I ended up going out to run mine by myself.

It was pretty dark but I thought I could see well enough with the light of the moon and stars so I left the flashlight in the car. I am actually kind of fond of a dark night in the woods. If you couldn’t see the fish you could certainly feel it when you grabbed the pole.

Anyway, this first pole had a pan size catfish. I rebaited it and moved on. The second was empty. As I approached the third I could tell it must have a fish on cause the line was moving around wildly. I grabbed the pole and I could feel the fish or, at least, what I thought was a fish.

I lifted the pole and reached for about where I thought the fish would be. Just a split second before I grabbed the line I saw in the moon light something that was four or five feet long and not much bigger around than the pole. It was a snake! I dropped the whole thing on the ground and took about 10 steps backward falling in the brush.

I got to my feet as quickly as possible and went to the car to get my flashlight. Back at the pole I found the huge black snake angrily trying to get off the hook. How do you get a snake off the hook in the middle of the night? I didn’t know either. I ended up cutting the line as close to the snake as possible and then I got out of there as quickly as possible.

When I returned in the daylight the snake was nowhere to be found. I pulled all of my poles out and went home. I fished with bank poles after that but was a lot more careful when I ran the lines.

Changing Schools

After two years at Saunders, a K-6 grade building, the district decided to move to grade level buildings. For some reason they decided Saunders would be a K-2 building and Harlan would be a third and fourth grade building.

To this day I am somewhat mystified as to why they did it. I have never read in research or professional opinion that one is significantly more effective than the other. I was also surprised that if they were going to do it they would put the smaller kids in a building on multi-levels with lots of steps.

Anyway the district moved me and the third grade teacher, Nadine McCoy, to Harlan over the summer. Becky was set to be the building secretary at Harlan, too, but took a job at the Coop over the summer to be Lawrence McCoy’s (Nadine’s husband) confidential secretary. That was probably good because she probably would have killed me if she had to live with me and work with me everyday.

I loved my top floor room at Saunders. The big window on the north looked out over the playground and the south facing windows in the hall outside my room were perfect for starting tomatoes. Every spring the windows were lined with the little milk cartons with plants sprouting out the top.

Harlan was a much newer building on the north side of town. It was over a mile from our house on West Clay. Not a really long walk from home but a lot farther than the three and a half blocks Saunders was.

At Harlan they put me in the classroom at the end of the north Hall and on the left. The new principal was Philip Speidel. The windows along the north side of my room looked out on the street. It certainly wasn’t the pleasing view that I had at Saunders and I lost the advantage of being able to watch my kids on the playground during recess.

Gertrude Miller taught 4th grade across the hall from me and the other 4th grade in the room just south of mine was Mrs. Morrison. She passed away that year. It was a very sad and sobering thing for the whole building.

Nadine was teaching 3rd grade along with a new teacher to our district, Marilyn Strohman. I can’t now recall who the other third grade teacher was. There was also a kindergarten in the building.

You couldn’t see the playground from the windows of my room but could from the teacher’s lounge down the hall. Teachers would gather there during their breaks and watch their kids outside the window even though there was plenty of supervision out there. You could learn a lot by watching your kids in that environment.

One warm spring day I saw a group of fourth grade boys in a tight circle near the far edge of the playground. I could tell they were looking at something but couldn’t tell what. I walked out of the building and in their direction but tried to avoid having them realizing I was headed toward them. I got within twenty yards before they spotted me and panicked. I zero in on the kids who had the goods and soon had them all. One boy had quite a collection of material.

It included two adult magazines, a package of condoms, and three Polaroid photographs of a naked woman in a lawn chair. I took the bundle into the teachers lounge and told the other teachers what it included. They were on me in seconds and took it all away from me as if I was one of the students. Eventually, it all got handed over to the principal who, in turn, met with the boy’s mother and handed it all over to her.

The stories of Harlan are many and I will tell some more another time.