Rustic Undertakings on the importance of preparedness

I am not sure where to begin about this weekends adventures but here it goes. The plan(which really was only a 3 minute conversation at the local watering hole) was to head up to Battleford and canoe down to Borden. The venture was supposed to take three days. As you will find out in the subsequent paragraphs, sometimes plans do not always work out, but they almost always have great endings and they most certainly always produce great stories.

I would like to start off by saying that the weather liar was only forecasting between one and five millimeters for the area, and the five was the worst of the forecasts, oh and it was not supposed to come at us until Sunday.

So we made the trip up to the Battleford, two canoes strapped to the ladder rack on my new 430 dollar Ford Ranger and one to the top of Tanners beater which was scheduled to become a cube as soon as we got back on Monday when his new truck was supposed to come in. The ride went off without a hitch, we slept the night at Tanner's dad's place and woke up the next morning with visions of a weekend full of fun and manliness.


We launched on an overcast morning but the temperature was still nice and the rain was nowhere to be seen. Hooks in the river we trolled down the mighty North Saskatchewan, glimpsing Moose crossing the water and seeing no other humans whatsoever. The valley was mind blowingly beautiful and was just as secluded as the rivers far up North in the Shield. It was a perfect day really. We discovered a couple old rustic hunting shacks along the river, one made of cotton wood logs chinked with mud from the surrounding area, and definitely still in use. I spotted a patch of wild onions which were completely foreign to me so we dug up a bunch of those which were absolutely tantalizing.

We caught some fish.... and then it started sprinkling. -"You guys did bring rain gear, eh?"
-"Nah but we'll be fine, we have garbage bags, its a Lutz family tradition." replied the two brothers on the excursion.

We headed to shore eventually that evening to make camp... And then it started raining.

We somehow managed to get a fire going, luckily someone had the foresight to bring a torch, while somehow neglecting rain gear.... And then it started pouring.

We got out the sausages and cleaned up a fish that we ended up cooking over the fire as if it were some sort of hot dog, which actually turned out to be an essential method of cooking fish.... and then the torrent of rain began.

We headed to the designated party tent where some beverages were shared.... and then the hurricane ensued.



The tent housing the brothers who were already very soaked managed to collapse in the middle of the night. The poles actually broke the wind was so fierce. It was a cold wet and miserable night. I woke up in the morning with the realization that we needed to get somewhere warm so we could dry our bones and not catch hypothermia in the middle of bloody nowhere. We packed up camp and headed downstream to battle the storm.

I'm not sure if I have ever feared for mine or my fellow paddlers safety quite like I did this morning. The wind was so crazy that the water was actually white capping..... ON A RIVER. The less experienced members of the party were having a very difficult time guiding the boat down the river without being turned around, and being broadside to the angry waves was not a place you wanted to be. That's how boats turn over, and how people get really awfully cold really awfully fast. It was actually getting scary when Tanner's partner had her fill and started to loose it (which is 100 percent excusable in this situation, things were getting pretty real) we quickly headed for the shore. As we put in on the side, a roof appeared just over a grove a trees. There was a cabin! Only once have I been happier to see people, the other time is for another story. We hastily climbed up the stairs to the cabin and knocked on the wooden door pleading for entry.

A dazed and confused man with appropriate long hair hiding an appropriate red neck answered our calls of help. It was obvious we had awoken his hangover, but he quickly shied us in. Kyle is his name, and Kyle is the most helpful and nicest man I know. As fast as we could take off our wet outer layers Kyle whipped up a fire in the wood stove and we were soon comfortable once again, hypothermia had failed us. I was sitting around making small talk with the other fellow there, Rick, when I asked him what he did in the Battleford. At this point he mentioned he was a mechanic. At this, Tanner's ears perked up, he was still in his wet outer clothing and so was still standing in the porch. He poked his head in, mentioned that his cousin was a mechanic in the area and began to introduce himself. When he got to introducing himself to Rick he looked at him and realized that Rick was in fact his cousin whom he had not seen for five years and that Lisa on the couch was also a long lost relative. I'm not making this up, the dude has no other relatives in the entire area and we happen to get rescued by a long lost cousin. Rick and Kyle helped us out a great deal, using their 4x4 to get our gear up to the top of the hill and inviting us back for some warm weather canoeing.

As I said. Sometimes plans don't work out... but they always end in great stories.