Off the Grid— Canoeing the Clarion River

“The Clarion River flows into the Allegheny River, which flows into the Ohio River, which flows into the Mississippi River, which flows into the Gulf of Mexico, and that’s geography for you!” A young boy was canoeing with his parents not far from where I leaned back in my canoe, peacefully drifting toward the Gulf of Mexico on a warm and sunny afternoon.

On the riverbanks, the Cook Forest was bright green with early summer. I was with friends on the Clarion River in the Pennsylvania Wilds, the largest stretch of public lands between New York and Chicago.

My friend Andrea and her boyfriend Merlin had planned the trip. They are getting married in August and invited friends to enjoy a weekend of canoeing together on the last weekend of May.

We met at 5 a.m. on Saturday morning and loaded up several pickups with supplies for the trip. I had purposefully packed very light, fitting a borrowed 30 degree sleeping bag, toiletries, and clothing all in my brand-new 5-gallon bucket. No excessive weight in the canoes from me, I reasoned, and the bucket had a watertight seal in case we tipped.

After a long drive, we got to the put-in spot and headed down the river. There were twenty people in our group. I wound up in a canoe with a guy named Nate from Ohio I had never met before, but he steered the canoe just fine and assured me that “if you tip on this river it’s because of mismanagement.”

Some of the others in our group used kayaks instead of canoes. My friends Regina and Emily had brought their fishing poles along. One guy, named Jimmy, had his own fancy kayak with pedals so his hands were free take care of his fishing gear.

Late in the afternoon, we found a camping spot. After setting up tents and eating a supper of hobo dinners, antipasto salad, cookies, and fruit, someone suggested, “Let’s make a sauna.”

Merlin, Nate, and the other guys gathered a huge amount of dead wood and some large rocks. (Some of the guys were former camp counselors from Bald Eagle Boys’ Camp.) They even cut down a dead tree for more firewood.

They stacked the firewood log-cabin style with huge rocks spaced in between the wood and lit the fire. “After a while,” they warned us, “You’ll want to back away from the fire. The rocks can split when they get hot.”

Once the fire had gotten really hot, it was sauna time. We stood back and watched as the guys loaded the red-hot rocks on the fire grate and carried the grate and glowing rocks with welder gloves to a large flat boulder at the river’s edge.

By now, it was getting dark and chilly. Normally saunas are inside of buildings or tepee-style tarps, but this was a makeshift sauna, “So we’ll all get underneath the big tarp,” explained Merlin. “Then, we’ll pour water over the rocks and let the steam pour over us, when we’re good and hot, we jump into the river!”

Since it was a co-ed sauna, it had to be done fully dressed. “I don’t have enough dry clothes,” I explained, grateful for a good excuse to get out of this one.

Those us of us who declined to participate stood on the bank and watched as the tarp buckled and shook, laughter and steam pouring out. When the people inside the tarp were completely steamed, they threw off the tarp and jumped into the cold and muddy Clarion River, and rose out proclaiming how marvelous they felt. “It feels so good!” said Emily.

After the sauna, we all settled around the campfire again and talked as the night grew late. I sat on my bucket, which had proved to be not only great luggage, but also a comfortable seat. It kept getting colder. Good thing I borrowed that cold weather sleeping bag from my sister-in-law, I thought.

I was staying in a tent with Regina and Emily. I fell asleep, and woke up a short while later, freezing cold. Apparently my body temperature had dropped, and the sleeping bag and long t-shirt I was wearing was not doing the trick. Regina awoke too, and I told her I was really cold. “I thought my sleeping bag would keep me warm, so I don’t have much extra clothing along.”

Regina’s loving nurse heart went into action. “I have an extra pair of socks. And toe warmers. See? You peel them off and stick them on your socks. And I have a jacket with a hood.”

“I’m sorry to bother you,” I whispered sheepishly, pulling her jacket over my t-shirt. “I wanted to pack light.”

“It’s no problem! I have been so cold on backpacking trips already, so now I always bring lots of extra clothing along.

“By the way, where’s Emily?” Regina asked me.

“She said she’s sleeping next the campfire in her sleeping bag.” I said.

“She’ll freeze! The fire will die down. Well, maybe she’s in Melissa’s tent.”

The next time I awoke, light was pouring into the tent. After waiting until the day had began to warm up, I crawled out of my tent and was glad morning had arrived.

Later, Emily told us the story of her night sleeping at the campfire. “I was in my sleeping bag, listening to the others talk. After a while, everyone had gone to their tents, and I was so warm and cozy, I decided to stay sleeping by the fire until it died down.

“I awoke, and felt the fire was nearly out. But suddenly there more wood on the fire, and I got warm again, so I feel asleep. This happened several times.

“It was like an angel kept putting wood on the fire.

“Then, I heard a loud noise. I sat up and looked, and on the other side of the campfire, there was Jimmy, sitting up. I asked him if he had fallen out of a tree! Turned out the noise was a tree falling some distance away.”

So it had been Jimmy the fisherman, who’d forgotten his sleeping bag, and not an angel keeping the fire going. “He was sleeping with his head propped on a cooler,” was how Emily put it. (I’m still trying to figure how an Igloo ice chest can possibly be used as a pillow.)

Never had a breakfast of sausages, hash browns, and eggs tasted so delicious.

After breakfast, Merlin led devotions and we discussed how we can best relate to others, including government authorities during these crazy times. Then we split into pairs and prayed for each other.

By eleven, we were back on the river, sometimes floating, sometimes paddling. We paddled next to others in the group and talked about all kinds of things.

Late in the afternoon, we got off the river in the little village of Cooksburg. We cleaned up our gear, loaded up the vehicles, and said our good-byes to each other and thanked Merlin and Andrea for the hard work of planning the trip.

All in all, it had been a great weekend off the grid.

But next time, I’m bringing two buckets, and one will be filled with extra clothing!