I wanted to take advantage of Memorial Day, so last week I tried to plan out a canoeing trip with some friends. The water levels across the state were getting a bit low, but late in the week it became clear that it'd rain over the weekend. Unfortunately, that rain (and thunderstorm) chance got pushed to Monday, and then it turned out that we'd get charged for a 2-3 day rental for each canoe from IU Outdoor Adventures because they weren't open Sunday or Monday, but we still picked up the canoes on Saturday and got together at my place on Monday morning at 8 to figure something out. Involved were my friends Ben and Christy:



(pictured here paddling, perhaps somewhat quixotically, upriver--but hey, it was their first time ever)
Mitch and Tali:



(okay, well, you can see Tali at least)
and Sara and I:



We decided to head out despite the rain and gray skies, and to head for the West Fork of the White River, which was at a relatively average (for this time of year) water level and only a half hour away. So we got in our respective vehicles and headed to Martinsville, where we got out at the bridge and tried to find the entrance to the water. The book I'd checked out recommended the "SE corner of SR 39 bridge." There was indeed a road there leading to the water, but it came off of what was clearly someone's very long driveway and appeared to be marked as private property. I walked down to the water and it had clearly been used as an entry point into the water, but I called Dad, as an experienced canoeist, to ask his advice on what to do. He recommended we ask the farmer if we could use it, as the polite thing to do. So Sara and I drove down the driveway a ways until we saw a sign, "NO UNAUTHORIZED VEHICLES PAST THIS POINT." So we parked the car and walked a few yards until suddenly three fierce, muscular dogs sped at us from the direction of the house, barking ferociously and clearly threatening. We were pretty scared--I thought they might actually attack--but as long as we kept moving back towards the car they just growled. Well, we got in the car and backed out of there pretty fast.
So we drove en masse to a motel across the road, to ask someone's advice. There was a janitor outside looking at us suspiciously, and I got out of the car and had a conversation with him:

Me. Hi, we'd really like to canoe this river, and I was wondering if you have any advice on how to get to the water.
Him. Well, that guy over there, he don't want no one on his property. He'll shootcha. I know him, and he'll do it.
Me. I see. Well, do you have any suggestions?
Him. Well, I don'know. That guy over there, he definitely don't want anyone on his property. It's all signed and everything, he's got security cameras.
Me. Well, I guess he has his right to his property.
Him. Yeah, he's, well, you'll excuse my language.
Me. Of course.
Him. He's a bastard.
Me. Huh.
Him. Yeah, I mow the grass over here, and he's come over and tol' me if I need to get on his property I can do it, but if I see anyone else on there, I have his permission to shoot'em right there.
Me. Wow. Well, do you know where we could get on the river?

The conversation was longer than I would have liked--the guy definitely didn't want us to get away without the impression that we'd get shot if we went on the other guy's land, and he also definitely wanted us to know (several times) about the nearest places in either direction where we might get to the river. He also mentioned that we might be able to use the road I'd originally walked down to the river, but oddly enough we weren't too excited about being anywhere near the property in question. I think I won him over with my Iowa farmboy charm, because by the end of the conversation he was wishing us a fun trip, and to take care of ourselves now, because he knows if he'd get in one o' them canoes he'd definitely get wet, and he's 68, so he doesn't get around much any more. We thanked him and headed downriver to Paragon (pronounced PAIR-a-g'n, and ideally with a strong southern Indiana accent) and took a small road a few miles to the river. There were some people fishing there, and it seemed otherwise pretty deserted and pretty safe.

So we unloaded the canoes, accidentally breaking Ben and Christy's sideview mirror in the process, and Tali, Christy, Sara and I all drove down to Spencer, IN where there was a public access. We headed back in Tali's green Windstar (a good van if ever there was one) to find that as Ben and Mitch had been pulling canoes down to the river, the fishermen/women had left and so had their cooler. They were understandably upset and, I think partially just to vent, filed a police report. Apparently the Paragon sheriff's reaction was, "Yeah, people'll steal anything around here."

This whole time, the sky had been completely overcast and threatening, and it often rained, occasionally hard, though generally just for a few minutes at a time. We expected to have to pull over occasionally for such outbursts. However, by the time we had worked all this out, it was 11:30, and, though the sky continued to look threatening, it didn't rain once (!) after we got into the canoes. So there was one thing that went very right!

The trip was pretty uneventful. It was a good beginner's river (which was good for Christy and Ben)--the water level was plenty high, so we didn't have trouble with shallow water, but the current was still not overly powerful, so even if one was pushed up against something, one would not be capsized. However, it was unfortunately not a good beginners' distance. I was thinking of the previous trip Sara and I had taken, which was 8 miles and too short. So rather than the canoeing book's suggested route from Gosport to Spencer, which it claimed was 8.6 miles, I had us get in at Paragon (suggested by the janitor). I figured that added about 2/3 again of the length of the trip, putting us at about 13 miles. Well, google maps begs to differ (it looks like the book is wrong, and keep in mind that this route shaves off a lot of curves):



We got on the water around 11:40 and took out around 4:50, and Ben and Christy were looking pretty worn out by the end. (To be fair, between circles and zigzags, they had probably gone a mile or so farther than the rest of us...) It didn't help--at least in this way--that about an hour into the trip the sun actually came out and the sky started getting blue, and then bluer, and by the end it was really hot. In fact, the day had been so gray and rainy, and forecast to continue in that way, that most of us hadn't even considered bringing hats or sunscreen or tons of water. Fortunately, we had enough water to barely get us through despite the cooler theft, and Mitch and Tali had brought sunscreen. Still, by the time we realized it was necessary, it was too late, and we're all burned to one extent or another. Ah well.

To close, here's a picture of the whole group before setting out: