Hey Reader,
My son reached out to tell me he and a friend were coming in this weekend, and they wanted to go kayaking down the Blue River.
A great Father's Day idea, but the forecast doesn’t look conducive for the run. We’ll likely have to reschedule.
I used to operate a kayak rental service on the Blue River—back in my younger days.
I had 17 boats and would rent them out to smaller groups for trips down the lower section of the river.
It was a lot of fun, a lot of work and a lot of not fun.
The very first group that ever used me for an excursion met me at the drop-off on the river. I had the virtually brand-new boats on the rocky riverbank ready to go for the run, and the first thing this group did was open one of the storage holds to fill it full of ice and drinks.
One of them had a brand new iPhone (the very first iPhone), and I mentioned it was probably not a good idea to take it. He did anyway.
I sent them on their way, wondering if my new boats and new business would be done on the first day, but about four hours later, the boats came into view, all accounted for.
Minus one iPhone.
I met a lot of great people over the three summer seasons I operated, but interestingly, one question kept popping up as I was about to drop them off.
“So, we’re just going to meet you back here?”
Like the river was a big circle, I guess.
I always met with folks and showed them where they would end up. One time, a couple met with me for what was supposed to be a romantic little float down the beautiful Blue River. They were nicely dressed and even had a picnic basket with a bottle of wine.
The trip they chose was a short jaunt through some of the most secluded areas of the Blue River. It ended at what locals call the Old Iron Bridge, which is literally marked by the remnant of an old iron bridge.
I sent them on their way, and at the appropriate time, I headed to the bridge take-out expecting to see them coming down the river within about half an hour or so.
But that moment never happened. They didn’t show up as expected.
Hours of frantic searching and attempted phone calls go by until I finally get a call from the man.
They had missed the Old Iron Bridge and continued down the river to its end.
I met them at an Ohio River boat ramp. Unfortunately, the low water level on the river meant the ramp was separated from the water by about 30 feet of black mud--amorous intention ended in sulfurous contention.
Other adventures included evacuating a boy scout who smacked a football size yellow jacket nest with his head (I had warned them about it); searching for lost gear including a life jacket I still look for everytime I am in the area and a paddle lost in Patoka Lake (I am pretty sure the person who lost it also peed in my boat—the less glamorous side of the business is cleaning up) and even a missing pair of swimming trunks; recovering boats after the bottoms gave way from too many scrapes and other not so fun moments like heat stroke and sore muscles.
Overall, it was fun, and to this day, I love going on the Blue River.
It also led me to this job, for which I am eternally grateful.
From Dubois County with love.
Matthew and Amy Crane
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