Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Packing List

I took my pistol and a hundred dollar bill
I took my pistol and a hundred dollar bill
I had everything I need to get me killed

Except as otherwise stated below, you only need to bring your own personal stuff. That means: lots of warm, dry clothes (lots); fishing gear if you want it; a sleeping bag and a pad. If you're not bringing a tent, make sure you've claimed a spot in someone else's. Put everything in a dry bag or doubled up garbage bags. And maybe a chair, but it doesn't have to be the world's biggest soccer mom chair because space is an issue.

Everything else, including food and booze, will be taken care of. Scroll down to see who's responsible for what. If you're not on the list, try not to bring things that have been assigned to someone else so we don't overpack, which we are already pretty famous for.

Exhibit A

Here are the rest of the assignments. This list will be updated throughout the rest of the week. NOTE: CANOE OWNERS, please drop your boat off sometime this week (i.e. before Saturday) so we can load it on the trailer.

- 1 canoe plus paddles, life jackets
- dinner, dinner bell
- 1 entire gourmet kitchen

- more dinner, Mountain Man breakfast
- 1 guitar
- water for cooking
- a match

- 3 canoes plus paddles, life jackets
- canoe trailer
- Big Daddy skillet
- utensils
- coffee
- maps
- saw

- 1 canoe plus paddles, life jackets
- beer, wine, liquor, water
- ice

- 1 canoe, plus paddles, life jackets
- Crown Royal
- Satellite radio

- Saturday lunch (for about sixteen, Mike)
- 1 thin t-shirt
- Chinaman drinking hat

- $37 and a Jap guitar

- 1 canoe, plus paddles, life jackets

- 1 canoe plus paddles, life jackets
- smokes

- 1 canoe plus paddles, life jackets
- 1 big ass axe

- swizzle sticks


In solitude one finds only what he carries there with him.
Juan Ramón Jiménez

By the time I pulled onto a sand bar below a narrow flat that lay between the river and a mountain, the wind on my neck carried flecks of cold rain. I set up the little tent under a twisted mesquite, threw my bed roll into it, chopped dead limbs into firewood, and finally carried up the other things from the boat -- the map case and the shotgun and the rods and the food box, heavily full, and the cook box and the rucksack, all of them battered familiarly from other trips long before. With a juvenile shame from those days when we had tried to model ourselves on the old ones, going out only with a blanket, tarp, skillet, ax, twenty-two, jar of grease, and sack of cornmeal, I knew that I'd brought too much gear for one man. But it was November, and our stomachs had been tougher then, and anyhow the point was no longer to show one's hardihood. The point was to be there.

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