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| “That time I canoed through a thunderstorm...” Linoleum Print, 18"24" |
“That time I
canoed through
a thunderstorm...”
It was June 2001—during the weekend of my high school graduation. As it so happened, my church scheduled its annual canoeing activity on that very same weekend. Now, I’ve never been a person who cared much for lines or crowds, and I imagined that a graduation ceremony would be abundant in both these things. Therefore, despite the schedule conflict with what would normally be considered by most—I assume—a pivotal moment in a teenager’s life, I decided to trade cap and gown for paddle and boat. Instead of attending an once-in-a-lifetime event, I went canoeing. Gotta have priorities, right?
Our church’s annual canoeing event took place on Arkansas’s
Buffalo River. It was a familiar river that my dad, sisters, and I had canoed at last four times before. That year, we also brought
along our new rat terrier puppy—rather than leaving her home alone for an
entire weekend.
The Buffalo River itself is fairly calm and easy—at least in
comparison to canoeing in oceans and white
water rafting down the Colorado River. Such is the calmness of the Buffalo River
that I once slept through it on a previous trip (forcing my sister to paddle
the final half on her own while I snoozed…but that is another story).
We arrived at the Buffalo River, that year, to overcast
weather and a fear that it might start to rain. There was some concern that the
activity would need to be canceled, yet nobody really wanted to turn back after
driving the hours it took to get there. As the resident meteorologist, my dad
was consulted on the matter. The forecast for that day had indicated only light
showers with partly cloudy skies. In the end, it was decided that a little rain
wouldn’t be a problem—we’d be getting wet, anyway. The paddled and canoes were then divvied
up among those in attendance, and off we went. Yet as is common with meteorological predictions, the weather turned worse than expected.
We were about half way to our destination with no sign if the
overcast lightening. The rain had been sporadic up until that point—mostly
light drizzles. However, it soon picked up, and with it brought the rolling of
thunder. We continued along the river in
hopes that we’d reach the end before the thunderstorm worsened. That plan only lasted until a bright bolt of lightning
struck close ahead of us. At that moment, dad quickly instructed my sisters and
I to paddle to the bank and get out of the water. Once there, we huddled under the canoe with
our terrified little dog and waited for the thunderstorm to pass. Maybe a half
hour had passed before the storm cleared and we were able to return our canoes
to the river.
We were about half way to our destination with no sign if the
overcast lightening. The rain had been sporadic up until that point—mostly
light drizzles. However, it soon picked up, and with it brought the rolling of
thunder. We continued along the river in
hopes that we’d reach the end before the thunderstorm worsened. That plan only lasted until a bright bolt of lightning
struck close ahead. At that moment, dad quickly instructed my sisters and
I to paddle to the bank and get out of the water. Once there, we huddled under the canoe with
our scared little dog and waited for the thunderstorm to pass. Maybe a half
hour had passed before the storm cleared. We returned our canoes to
the river and continued with the activity. When we reached the end, we shared some laughs
with our friends about how close that lighting strike had been, and
then went home.
It was not until the next encounter with a thunderstorm that
we learned our puppy had developed a phobia that would last through her entire life.
