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More Ask Grateful Ed
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Cazart! Last night some nimrod dropped a cigarette butt into my pig fodder
bucket, and before I could say "Joe Camel" the whole thing went up in flames.
I beat the fire (and the culprit) out with an old tie rod, but I lost most
of the questions which have been sent in to me via the Information
Hyper-Sueway. Only a few survived the blaze, and here they are.
"Dear Ed: Would you recommend naked boating to a beginning paddler?"
Oh, absolutely. Paddlers are the emperors of the river, and emperors should
frequently go without clothing. Keeps 'em humble. Besides, most of my
friends would scare their own shadows if they were stripped off bare naked in
the bright sun, which means that vanloads of fat tourists could be repelled
from any whitewater zone if only more of us were willing show up starkers.
Tourists can be a pain in the ass, you know? The other day I was loading up
my boat at Hellhole and one of them asked me if I paddled in the Olympics.
Now, I weigh 150 pounds soaking wet and fully dressed (which I just happened
to be at the time), and I had to seriously restrain myself from jumping up
and down and jabbering in foul tongues. I had an uncle who used to jump up
and down and jabber in foul tongues at his church, which was way out in the
boonies of East Tennessee. I'm convinced East Tennessee should someday be a
state by its own rights. It's not now. Some of the best whitewater in the
world is found in East Tennessee, and we need to protect it from tourists,
religious freaks, and most of all, wigged-out paddlers. Maybe someday I'll
write more about that.
"Ed, is it best to plant your paddle at ten thirty or at eleven o-clock when
you're attempting a counter-clockwise cartwheel? Also, would a 198-45 paddle
be better for rodeo boating than, say, a 200-80?"
Well, clearly this is a sad case of that damnfool attitude I call "All
Science, No Philosophy". Listen, paddling without love in your heart is
senseless. If you're not in the moment, in the now, in Zen, then you're just
wasting time. All of the gear in the world can't miracle your silly behind
into six linked cartwheels. You have to do that for yourself, and no boat,
or gear, or technique will overcome an unworthy mindset.
Send ten bucks (Jamaican) for an instructional tape to "Ask Grateful Ed",
care of this newsgroup.
"What has the Mule Boy been up to lately?"
Jee-hosophat. We were doing a little yardwork last week, and here's what
happened...
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mAnkeD by beEZ!
whiLe the MULE BOY aNd i weRE OuT RaKIn'
soMMe MuLCh in A fiNe suMMer brEEz,
oF a SUDden we FoUnD ouRSelvZ flEEin'
foR feaR WE'd gEt mAnkeD bY beEz!
froM a PiLE of STrAW in THE korNER
rOArED a CLoUD tHAt wAs bLAck and aLIve...
SO we FluNG doWn oUr RaKZ AnD we vANishED
aNd GOT chaSed bY the WHole gol-DaNGed hIVe!
wEll, thEY buZZed uS, and BEe'd uS, and BIt uS...
SO we JUmpED in tHe PoNd aNd we SWam!
thOUgh our NOSEZ weRE saFe unDERwater,
oUr BUTTZ wEre a MEal of BeE-spAM!
o, we'Ve PAddLEd thE PeakZ oF PoughKEEPsie-
we'Ve stoMPed thRough the SWamps of BELIze
we'Ve kuDDleD kING kobRAS in kAsHmIr,
buT the WUrst of IT aLl waZ thoZ beEZ!
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You had to ask.
On a slightly more serious note, the Cinnamon Girl and I are tying the
proverbial knot on September 27th at the Ocoee Whitewater Center. There's a
rec release that day on the Upper Ocoee, which means there will be water at
the Olympic course during the ceremony. I will not be paddling that
afternoon, but will be that morning and possibly again that evening (although
behind lock and key and far away from prying eyes, to be sure).
I'm writing the ceremony, and although I'm trying to avoid pagan mysticism
outright (her folks are Catholic and mine are Protestant), I find that there
are just a few things which were meant to be permanent in this universe, and
among those things are rivers and soulmates. Water always flows downhill,
and love always flows between kindred spirits.
And what else can I say after that? Go play.
Ed
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