In the Watershed by Ryan Schnurr

Author:Ryan Schnurr [Schnurr, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-9989041-0-8
Publisher: Belt Publishing
Published: 2017-09-07T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

I was becoming tired of dragging myself through water. Jason was too. Our arms and shoulders burned, then stung, and eventually—mercilessly, I thought—went almost completely numb. My right shoulder had begun to make a popping noise, and my wrists were tingling. Exposed skin was red with sun. Jason and I paddled on, alternating sides. As the afternoon wore into evening we began to switch more frequently to give our bodies a break. By mile twenty we were shabby.

Our ambition had gotten us into a long intermediate stretch of river in which there was no place to stop. On either side we faced expanses of state forest, interrupted only occasionally by a bridge, or by a mansion and flawlessly manicured lawn. Neither of these was the kind of place you could pull up a canoe and camp for the night. We didn’t feel like trespassing, and even if we had wanted to, the forest was thick as jungle all the way out to the edge of the water. Exhaustion set in. Even talking felt like a chore.

We did not stop out of fear that our arms might take the opportunity to go on strike. Three more miles. Then two more. The sun began to set, though I do not remember when or what it looked like. In my memory there is only forward, an unbroken ribbon of water wrapping out ahead.

At last, we came around a bend and saw a cluster of RVs on the southern bank. I had never before found an RV park to be beautiful, but I had also never before canoed twenty-five miles against current-less water. The trip had taken us more than eleven hours. Jason said it was the worst he had ever felt after a day of paddling. Even my bones were tired.

There was a small boat launch near one end. As we pulled closer, I could see that all the lots along the river were full.

“Uh oh,” I said.

Jason said, “I will sleep on this ramp if I have to.”

We ran the canoe up the ramp, got out, and pulled the boat far enough out of the water that it would not slide back in. Then we went looking for an open lot. The park consisted of rows of campsites separated by long gravel paths. Next to the park were cornfields. Every single spot was taken. I learned that people rent out sites for an entire summer and leave their RVs there. It is a whole lifestyle. Surrounding boats and RVs were sets of outdoor furniture, tables, and umbrellas. Flagpoles and flags. Some people had built wooden decks that looked to be more permanent than the actual dwelling, and probably more structurally sound. One person had even put up a trellis. But the park was basically deserted. We could not find an office. It was a Tuesday, so everybody must have been at their homes elsewhere. Most of the RVs were dark and drowsily quiet. There were a few holdovers: down one row we could see a fire going, and a ring of people.

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