Monday, July 1, 2019

Itching

     Whether or not I survived will be determined by the next few days.  My muscles are gimpy and I itch. Outside of the poor fishing, massive mayfly hatch, lack of wind, high temperatures, full sun, full fledged storm on the last night, the Coleman stove proving useless after blowing a gasket under the main burner (cheap Chinese crap), learning that no amount of bug spray or high-tech Thermacell could keep the mosquitoes off of our faces after sunset and forgetting to slather ourselves with bug dope on our last, after the storm and the little bastards were eating me alive and in general pissing me off portage, we had a good time. This morning it hurts to type and I don't have enough energy to brush my teeth. I scratch a lot and it feels wonderful. You know you're no longer youthful and spritely when you have to drag a sixty pound pack onto a stump and then crawl on your knees so you can slide your arms through the straps. There's little in life like swatting mosquitoes on the back of your head with a canoe paddle 'cause there's no way in hell you're gonna put the gear down and go through the loading routine again. Like I said, we had a good time. I always enjoy myself when I'm with Brian. We think differently in a lot of ways but it doesn't matter. Blood is thicker than Deepwoods Off.

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