A friend, who joined us last summer for our annual Quetico trip, sent
this story about his visit to his dentist. Our canoe trip, which ended
as the hygienist's trip started, was blessed with no mosquitoes (got
down to 30s at night) and beautiful cool weather during the day. The
hygienist's name has been changed to protect her charm.

quote
This morning I went to the dentist and had my teeth cleaned by Paula,
my dental hygienist of the past fifteen years or so. (She is very
cute, very Asian and reminds me of girls I once knew in Korea. But,
that isn't the point of my story.)

Making small talk, I asked Paula if she had any big plans for the
summer and she said no. She said her husband wanted to go on a canoe
trip with some friends, but that she wasn't interested. She said it
would take her a few years of therapy to get over her last trip. I
told her that I'd gone into the Quetico last summer and, other than a
wet start and a cold, windy and wet trip in, we had a great time,
remarkably nice weather, no bugs, good fishing, great food, etc. I
thought she was going to stab me. She wasn't sure, but, thought it
was either the 18th or 19th of last August when they started paddling
from someplace north of Ely. She started out calmly describing a six
hour paddle into a raging head wind, heavy rain, bone chilling cold,
bailing the canoes to keep from swamping and making camp in the rain
not very far from where they started paddling. By that point, I had a
mouthful of metal instruments and was entirely at her mercy. She got
louder and more agitated as she described trying to get a fire going
in the rain, trying to keep the tents from blowing away, wearing
everything she owned trying to keep warm and dry. She spent most of
the next five days in camp because the rain and white caps on the lake
were too heavy to attempt to paddle in. She never saw a fish let
alone got a chance to eat one. As she described getting colder and
wetter and hungrier, her hands started to shake and every once and
awhile she'd stab the air with one of the cleaning probes to make a
point and swear about her husband, his friends, paddling and rain.
She said the temperature dipped down into the thirties every night,
the rain stopped for a total of two or three hours during the five
days they were camping and that just hearing the word 'canoe' made her
apoplectic.

So I said, with a mouth momentarily free of water jets and polishing
paste, at least there weren't any bugs. And she said, through her
angry spit speckled mask, "**** you." Fortunately, we are friends and
I didn't take that personally, although I confess that I will have a
great deal of difficulty in fantasizing about going camping with her
any time soon. (Not that I fantasize about paddling anywhere very
often).

/quote

---
Mark

thought she was going to stab me. She wasn't sure, but, thought it
was either the 18th or 19th of last August when they started paddling
from someplace north of Ely. She started out calmly describing a six
hour paddle into a raging head wind, heavy rain, bone chilling cold,
bailing the canoes to keep from swamping and making camp in the rain
not very far from where they started paddling. By that point, I had a
mouthful of metal instruments and was entirely at her mercy. She got
louder and more agitated as she described trying to get a fire going
in the rain, trying to keep the tents from blowing away, wearing
everything she owned trying to keep warm and dry. She spent most of
the next five days in camp because the rain and white caps on the lake
were too heavy to attempt to paddle in. She never saw a fish let
alone got a chance to eat one. As she described getting colder and
wetter and hungrier, her hands started to shake and every once and
awhile she'd stab the air with one of the cleaning probes to make a
point and swear about her husband, his friends, paddling and rain.
She said the temperature dipped down into the thirties every night,
the rain stopped for a total of two or three hours during the five
days they were camping and that just hearing the word 'canoe' made her
apoplectic.

I understand her frustration. I was one of the unfortunate there during
the same time. It froze on several of the nights. And the wind simply
did not let up. The jet stream whistled overhead and the tops of three
trees snapped off in one camp - one just in front of my wife as she was
walking on the trail back from the toilet. There was little or no
progress to be made on the water. Finally, after 4 days, we pulled the
plug and headed back out from whence we came.

Blakely LaCroix
r.b.p. clique member #86.
Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA

The best adventure is yet to come