This post was originally posted at another blogsite of mine titled "Wanderlust and other lessen Geasan" which is now closed.

The Geas, or plural Geasan, according to wikipedia is a vow or obligation placed upon a person, usually a hero. Traditionally, the doom of the hero comes about due to their violation of such geasan, either by accident, or by having multiple geasan and then being placed in a position where they have no option but to violate one geas in order to maintain another. In my case, this vow is to visit every continent, every state in the U.S., and every country barring war zones and dictatorships. This blog shall serve as a Hemingway-esque recall of opportunities that allow me to fulfill my own personal geas (to slightly warp Terence Trent D’Arby).

This blog, like my corporeal body, is designed to wander. As my earthly self wanders the globe in search of that which I have not seen before, this blog will wander through the thoughts that are generated by said globetrotting. I hope to show others parts of the world through the written word that they may never see as well as shed alternative light on those places that millions see but never through another’s eyes.

My hopes are that this record of date will serve as a glimpse into the life of a father, and someday, grandfather so that my children and my children’s children will have insight into the thoughts and dreams of their ancestors.

As past travels are harder to recall and require more from me in the way of fact checking and dredging up of memories, I shall begin where most do not, at the present.

Adventure name: Riverboat Zombies: Yanks in the Wire

Length of Adventure: 1 day

Distance from November Base: 78.3 mi – about 1 hour 50 mins

Dawn came early as I had stayed up until midnight playing Super MonkeyBall with half toasted friends. I had also been called out at 2:40a.m. to fill a prescription for the hospital when I was supposed to be off of call. That put me back in bed around 4 a.m. too nervous about waking up at 6 a.m. to think properly or fall back asleep.

So it had been agreed to meet up in town at 7:45a.m. in order that we might be on the road by 8 a.m.

That never happens.

We did, however, hit the open road by 8:30 a.m. and make just one lengthy stop at Big Box Mart.

But I digress.

The whole reason this trip was planned was for my Yankee friend, Nam, to be able to experience the great outdoors Arkansas style. He had driven into town two days earlier to spend a few days visiting on his journey across America. He was well into day 18 when he hit Jonesboro and the oppressive heat. We had already taken him shooting the day before as he had never held a firearm. His journey to ‘American Tough Guy’ status was well on it’s way, hoping to edge closer by his experience on this canoe trip. We were prepared to hone his survival instincts.

So as Jennifer was pregnant and out of town anyways, we opted for the ‘beat toughness into you’ approach by strapping ourselves and some malt beverages into a piece of aluminum and hurling ourselves over rocks.

We headed North and West into the foothills of the Ozark mountains by 9:00 a.m. or so and didn’t stop until we arrived at Many Islands base camp. Here we applied ‘spray-on’ suntan lotion and rented our aluminum coffins. Just in time too, as we barely had time to lock all of our valuables in the truck and load the school bus taking us up river where we would put in.

Our group allowed everyone else to hit the water leaving our group to float down the river in relative solitude. Even though the temperature gauge was topping out at 106 degrees today, we knew the bone chilling water never faltered from 54 degrees F.

Most of us even looked forward to the occasional ‘fall’ into the river.

The first two hours on the river was actually quite tame, almost boring.

It was deathly quiet and the ‘rapids’ during the low water season don’t make you worry a whole heck of a lot. We stopped for dinner on a sandbank which allowed us to enjoy the cold water and relax our arms from the incessant paddling.

A couple of young fellows passed by and insisted on hurling crude language at the women in our group. A threat from us and the waving of a fish gutting knife later, they were on their way…on their way to a date with Karma.

After lunch, we were back on the river thinking we were experts, invulnerable to the effects of gravity on a canoe.

It all went downhill from there…literally.

We successfully navigated a few more small to medium rapids, the instant burst of speed that you get from flying over the faster rapids propelled Nam and I into the wall on a tight turn. The impact forced us sideways and upended our canoe making us the first canoe casualty of the day and ending my boredom.

I wouldn't go as far as saying I almost drowned but the thought does cross your mind as the water rushing into your back never takes a break or respite. Yes, we were the first casualty of the day, but far from the last. Just down the river where a more precarious section of the river lie, Nam and I successfully navigated what was supposed to be the most difficult portion of the river but not before we witnessed Keith going over it backwards.
I think he was as surprised as anyone to still be alive but he didn't have long to celebrate as Lori and Josh plummeted over the minifall only to lose their canoe in the process. We spent the better part of the next half hour trying to right their canoe and collect everything that had once been in it. A couple of hundred feet down the river, the bank of the river became a resting spot so we could watch others fall prey to the lamentable falls.
The young fellows who thought they would yell at our women just happen to be coming along next.
They completely wiped out.
It completely made up for our own mishap. Watching them scramble for all of their belongings and apparently being able to hurl insults is not a prerequisite for swimming.
They looked like drowned rats as they passed by us a second time and we got to hurl our own insults.
The remainder of the trip found us taking different avenues to the end as the river divided and there was more time spent reflecting on the day. I did suffer a gash on my leg trying to right Josh and Lori's canoe but beyond a sunburn that wasn't bad at all, I think I'll live.
We ended the run exhausted and glad to be back on the way home with no 'Deliverance' style memories for our northern friend.
Combined with the day spent shooting every type of firearm known to man, he can truly claim to be a southerner at least in heart.
And he's welcome back any time.
(I'll try to post pictures of the event as soon as I'm home.)