My Dad.

We always had a canoe..or two..and my Dad, a carpenter by trade had the frame of a canoe in his shop.
He had that thing in there for years. Plans for it. The beautiful wood laid out in strips....
I never thought he'd actually finish it. A few years ago, when he was close to retiring, he did.
It's a beauty.
He promised it to my sister...but she lives in Alaska. So I ought to "hold it" for her.
And also before his new gold-digger wife decides he ought to sell it... :(

Canoeing with my Dad was a special time for me. He and I always kind of had a hard time connecting. I was a good daughter...not as much trouble as my sisters but kind of the fight-the-establishment type.
I spoke up when they were too chicken.

I had problems with my Dad.
But when we were in a canoe.... I didn't. I always went.
I loved Priest Lake, Idaho the best. Camping there. Telling stories around the campfire. He would always tell us that they put bears from Yellowstone in that area. Bears that were trouble. I never saw one though...kinda wanted to.
I remember one morning, we got up early and paddled to Upper Priest.
It was so early, not even the birds were up. Not one sound.
You can't get to Upper Priest with a motor boat, there are no roads, so it is very wild looking. Untouched, really.
The lake was like glass. We put our all into it just flying. We were both grinning with each pull of the hand made oars.

Gliding to a stop in the middle of the lake. I remember, it was so beautiful...I had a lump in my throat. We just sat there do a long time. Not saying a word.
That's my Dad. Not much of a talker....
It wasn't too long and he pointed out an Eagle above us. We watched in awe, as the eagle swooped down, right next to us plucking out the biggest fish I had ever seen. Huge.
It flopped so much..the eagle almost lost its prize.
Struggling with the weight, thrashing, shocked fish.
It flew off...determined to keep its meal.

It was one of the most memorable moments in my life.
I'm gonna get that canoe, Dad built.
I'm telling him tomorrow, I want it.
slsr slsr
41-45, F
4 Responses Jan 12, 2013


Being on the water transcends the daily drudgery of life and if you are like me, takes me out of myself.

Building a boat, a cedar ***** canoe, is a labor of love, of respect for the wood and the clear lines of the boat. It is a journey as much as a completion for use. I've built two and am starting on a third. Thinking about it brings back the feeling of touching that wood, feeling the curves of the boat as one sands the hull to a fine finish before setting up the fiberglass. The final and complete satisfaction as one puts it on the water for the first time.

If you have had wonderful and loving times paddling that boat with your father, then it is something worth asking him for. Explain to him the tradition that you want to continue with the boat.

I wish you luck.

WOW,this story put a lump in my throat,it made me think about my daughter :)

Sweet story! Great daughter you are...

Not always....but we have some great moments :)


Just tell him what that trip meant to you.

Once you have it, please post photos

I will. I know my sister will have a big, fat cow about it. It's unlikely she will ever get to use it.
I would.
Ohhhh, it is the most beautiful thing.

What's the point of a canoe sitting in a garage. It's not a canoe unless its being paddled