Man, it's bad when your friends ask you (or tell you) "what the hell is up with the blog"? So, here I am, and I write. Matter of fact, they are right/write, whichever comes first.
So, here we go.....A Friday Night Paddle it was. A small crew, but a worthy crew. Jimmy E and myself paddling from Franklin to Boscawen with the take out at Welch Park. An end of August day with weather 75 degrees and dropping from the 5pm put in, til 10pm takeout. Brisk and burred, we weathered our trip well with cold Buds (wife beaters) to soooooth.
A five pm shove off sharp! Yes, we are good. Good to keep on time that is. A paddle downstream into water so boney, I scratched my ride called "Envy". Something I seldom do. Eagles, Osprey, Cormorants, Ducks of many flavors and even a few Otter. Three to be exact. Froliciking on the river bank river left upstream from the County Farm.
Horn Pouten Men gathered river right just upstream from the Boscawen / Canterbury bridge, to only worry about their line, or more frantically me catching their line. "To hell with their line" I say, as we're paddling and paddling hard. My boat is more important than their line.
A full moon paddle it was. A good paddle it was.
