In college, Jenny and I took a course called Canoeing and Sailing with another couple, Sarah and Bruce. All 4 of us knew how to do both, but it seemed an opportunity to have a fun break from the rigor of our other classes, so we jumped right in. Most of the other students in the class had not had experience of either canoeing or sailing before. Because we knew how to do it, we hung out together, laughing and having fun, and left the teacher free to concentrate on those who really needed instruction. The teacher came to refer to us as “the radicals’, not that we were very radical, but he used us to help those who needed support the most.
The class was great fun. Getting on the water at Cowan Lake is always fun. Maybe a month after the class, we were sitting around one night, and decided to plan a canoe trip for a weekend, on the nearby Little Miami river, and gave an open invitation to other students to join us. The response was good, and soon we had a weekend chosen, and reservations for 10 canoes from the canoe livery.
When the weekend arrived, it was a motley crew, of mostly students from the class, and a couple people who had never canoed before, and we radicals. We met the trailer full of canoes at the drop in point on saturday morning, and had planned a trip where we would pull out about halfway, and camp for the night, and finish the trip to the pullout point midday sunday. Short and sweet, and eminently do-able. Everybody was excited.
We dragged the canoes down to the riverside, and the trailer drove away, and we spent half an hour putting coolers and sleeping bags and stuff in the canoes, and launching them. We radicals were first on the river, with our coolers tied into our canoes, and our gear loaded in the middle, and we hovered nearby coaching the others on launching. Two canoes, no sooner launched, then ran right into other canoes and tipped over, their gear floating away. So, for an hour, the rest of us paddled around, fishing sleeping bags and coolers and beer bottles and the various accoutrements of the tipped canoes out of the water and getting the canoes righted again, and loaded, and we set off downstream. The 4 people from the tipped canoes were soaked. But it was a sunny day, and we took off toward the island where we were camping for the night.
About 4 o’clock clouds blew in, and it started raining. We finally got to the island, and unloaded, and set up camp. It had stopped raining, and being a Boy Scout, I scrounged for firewood, and soon had a nice fire going. We radicals shared our dinner with the unfortunate ones whose food had gone down the river. The poor wet people were suffering. All their clothes and sleeping bags were wet, and they hovered miserably around the fire all night.
The next morning dawned coolish, but not raining. The wet people looked so miserable. I built the fire up again, and got to cooking breakfast. Most of the wet folks took off their clothes and hung them around the fire to dry, except for Karl, who was very modest, and who was the most miserable. He was shivering uncontrollably. I put my dry sleeping bag around him and took out my secret weapon, a quart jar of crepe batter, which I had made before we left home, and took out my crepe pan, and made everybody Crepes Suzette on the campfire for breakfast. How often has anybody had Crepes Suzette on a campout? In spite of the wet, most people were in good humor, and we ate Crepes Suzette until the batter was gone.
Crepes Suzette for Camping:
1 1/2 cups of flour
3 large eggs
2/3 cup of milk
1/3 cup of water
pinch of salt
a small jar of orange marmalade
powdered sugar
Put the first 5 ingredients in a quart canning jar, shake it up until everything is mixed, and keep it in your cooler. When you go to cook it, shake the jar good, and use a pan with curved sides. Heat the pan good and hot, melt some butter, and pour enough batter in so that when you tip it side to side, the batter covers the bottom with a thin layer of batter. Maybe 1/4 cup of batter.Cook it until the bottom is a little browned,(less than a minute if the pan is hot) whack the pan on a log, to break the crepe loose, shake it down to the edge of one side, and then with a quick flick of your wrist, flip the crepe over. You can use a spatula to flip the crepe, but that is for wussies, and is not as impressive to people who are already surprised that you would cook Crepes Suzette on a campfire. Brown the other side for 30 seconds. Slide it out on a plate. Spoon a line of orange marmalade on the crepe, and roll it up, and sprinkle powdered sugar on top, and serve. Yum Yum. Quick and easy. Kids love it.
You’re welcome.
We loaded the stuff back into the canoes, and I put Karl in the middle of my canoe wrapped in my sleeping bag, with Jenny paddling stern, and put his canoe partner in the bow, and I took over their canoe, and paddled it by myself. We got to the pullout place about 11am, and just in time. Poor Karl was at the edge of hypothermia, and fortunately the pullout was right by the Morrow Fire Station, and the EMS guys took him right in, and warmed him up, and put his clothes in their dryer. We got a ride back to the drop in point, and headed back to college.
I never tried to set up a canoe trip again with unskilled canoeists. I worried about Karl all the way to the pullout point. There wasn’t much I could have done for him. He was ok, and went on to be the artist for a small newsletter that we formed, called The Bullsheet.
Ah, college days. Always adventurous.
Poor Karl. <3
Dry Clothes Matter. <3