November 7


It was hard to leave the beauty of Tate’s Hell and the Crooked River but there is plenty more country to see. As I paddled out of the river into the bay I took a look back. It’s always important to look back at where you have been. As beautiful and fun as it was doesn’t mean I was going to paddle back up the river. I have to keep going as I don’t know what’s around the next bend. The same thing as my recovery. It’s important to look back at where I was. I had a lot of great times drinking and drugging.  But I had a lot of bad times too. I can sit here thinking about the past and what I should have done differently. What if this, what if that. Instead I have to look back to remember the bad times and keep paddling forward around the next bend in life to see what it holds. I’ll never know what’s around that next bend if I don’t push forward. I made it across the bay to a RV campground to stay for the night. I had to pay for a spot but figured it was worth it to be able to shower and charge batteries. Plus they had WiFi so how could I pass?  They gave me a spot right on the water next to large campers. I set my tent up and started charging my devices. I made some small talk with my new neighbors but had to cut it short because the shower was calling me. There were only restaurants near by and one of them was a pizza place. I have been craving pizza for a while now so I started walking. Just my luck it was closed so I went to a little seafood restaurant. I stopped by the gas station to get a few other snacks before this next remote section. The clerk noticed my shirt and asked if I’m from Ohio. We made small talk and he said he had lived over in the RV park where I was staying. I asked what brought him down here. He said treasure hunting. He had me hooked. He said he drained all his life savings and came close to identifying it before he ran out of money. He said he has the manifest and captains logs for the old civil war ship. I asked a million questions except where it was since I know that’s the only thing he wouldn’t tell me. I walked back to the campground thinking about all the treasure I was paddling over and hoping that I could some how get my hands on it. When I got back to my tent the neighbors apologized for not offering to cook me steak and shrimp for dinner. I told them it was alright and that led to several hours of sitting around talking like long lost friends. It was like we knew each other for a long time. I truly believe the people I “randomly” meet along the way are the best part of the journey. We talked about everything under the sun and moon. We could have talked all night but I had to get some sleep. But if you have any question if there are any good people left in the country, just spend time at an RV Park.