When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.
Here Is My Son’s Facebook Post:
Getting ready to make my return to the BWCA after a 25+ year “break” from each other. As I was building the canoe carrier, sifting through old maps of trips my dad and I took when I was younger and gathering the necessities needed for an ultralight trip into the wilderness, I began to reflect on my previous experiences up there.
My brain keeps bringing up childhood memories of crystal clear lakes, endless portage’s, torrential downpours, flooded tents in violent thunderstorms, unexpected snow squalls, cold nights and even colder mornings, Taking an unexpected swim thanks to leather pant wielding relatives, paddling until my arms were spaghetti and finally the victory trip to McDonalds on the way home when it was all over!
Looking at those old maps of my childhood and seeing the notes from trips past such as “great camp” and “death march” on one of the portage’s, I realized that my dad and I did a lot of really cool things and I just was too young to fully appreciate it. This time I make my return with my family almost 30 years later and the one thing I am going to miss the most is sharing the experience one more time with my dad…. but those old maps are going to make that trip one more time.