Took my first canoe trip of the year on the St. Croix this week. It was a solo journey except for the company of my eight pound wiener dog, Floyd. He had never camped before and did surprisingly well. He spent most of the time in the boat either sprawled out on a big rubber dry bag, or, when the surface grew too hot, on the unoccupied front seat of the boat, on which I tied his fleece pad. Small dogs are strange creatures--one must watch them to make sure they do not wander off into the jaws of a coyote, but they do have certain benefits like being able to nest at the foot of one’s sleeping bag like a warm furry heating pad. The only scare was when Floyd, whose swimming abilities had never been tested, leapt from the boat as we neared shore. He came up paddling with a confident look on his face, but the current then swept him under the canoe. I had been keeping him on a string, so was able to pull and retrieve him as through he was a nice sized fish. Once on shore he repeatedly sprinted across the sand beach and rolled in the dirt with enviable pleasure.
The above photo is from the first night’s camp, between Rush City and Wild River State Park. Ominous clouds blew in before the sunset, but the following morning was clear.
