Not too long ago my parents bought a canoe. They could be planning on being extras in The Very Last of the Mohicans but I’m pretty sure the purchase had more to do with their proximity to a navigable lake and their bunch of energetic grandkids.
Jason and I took our maiden voyage on this worthy vessel during the Labor Day weekend. My brother Will was visiting from Idaho so he supplied the eager kids while we supplied most of the manpower. The majority of our nieces and nephews were enthusiastic sailors but Porter, who recently turned 13 and therefore suffers from teenagerness, did not want to row the boat. This made him an excellent candidate for teasing and involuntary labor. Jason and Will forced him to paddle solo on their return voyage across the water just because he didn’t want to. Complaining ensued and consequently more compulsory rowing. Few joys in life equal that of annoying a grumbling adolescent.
Unlike Porter, I’d classify canoeing as a relaxing activity even as the oarsman. And, incidentally, I’m ready for my call from Daniel Day-Lewis. Anytime he wants me to start paddling I’m set.