Monday, November 20, 2006

Spring 2007

The dates: April 27 - 29 (two-nighter).

The river: Green River, Kentucky (where Paradise lay).

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Tomorrow Night

New plan. We'll still meet at Cronin's at 7:00, but after cocktails and the slideshow we'll walk down to Sportsman's Grill instead of trying to cook out in the rain at Mike's. We can order the Big Boy Dinner and we'll be that much closer to The Villager, where Rob has a warrant to search the kitchen for his dinner triangle.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

White Elk Speaks

Some of you may not know this, but the solo Friday Guy saved the day on the Elk River. Actually, he saved our night. Jim only recently disclosed that the fishermen camped across Beans Creek from us were intending to set up in our field, and would have if it wasn't already occupied. He had to use scalding Huckleberry sauce to keep them from scaling the mud banks. So extra Coors Lights for our one-man advance party at the Banquet Thursday night.

"I would rather sit on a pumpkin, and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion."

Henry David Thoreau

("Saint Henry" in Goodbye to a River)


Sunday, November 05, 2006

Post-Trip Banquet

...will be Thursday, November 16, 7:00 pm at Cronin's house.

We could divide the group into Jims and non-Jims, but to be fair we'll stick to the method from the last banquet - so this time if your name is not a verb, you're bringing beer on the 16th. Everyone else just bring whatever gear you ended up with that doesn't belong to you.


"This is my brother Jim, and this is my other brother Jim"


Wednesday, November 01, 2006


The appetizers came out of the kitchen about midnight.

I skinned and quartered the old squirrel, thick-hided and with testicles as big as a dog’s. Since the war, somehow, I don’t much like to skin them. You cut them at the wrists and make a slash or two and peel away the tough pelt, and what you have suddenly in your hands is a bug-eyed, naked, dead homunculus whose looks I do not care for.

Goodbye to a River p. 33

whatever you do.

And as if the Elk could be any fresher....

Next year we can float the Big South Fork of the Cumberland, add high powered deer rifles to the packing list, and Kirly can hunt from his camp chair. Guitar players will just have to know when to duck. The Cumberland, by the way, is one of three rivers we need to float if we're going to live out our sub-title. Because so far we've only gone down "the rest of them Rebel rivers."