Have you ever gone on a camping trip that looked like a disaster from the start? Kathryn and I and were invited by our friend Rich Roman to go canoe camping on Stillwater Reservoir in the Adirondack Park. As we drove from our house to Stillwater the light sprinkle transitioned to a heavy downpour. With a feeling of impending disaster Kathryn and I made up this poem as we bounced through potholes on the dirt road into Stillwater.
This is sung to the Cowboy Ballad “I Ride An Old Paint” (I lead an old Dan).
Crazy Rich Roman had a wonderful thought:
“Let’s go canoeing with the maps that I bought.”
So to Stillwater Lake we all did proceed,
now it looks like some dry clothes we all soon will need.
Ca-noe-ing, Ca-noe-ing in the rain.
Our hands are all callused, our shoulders in pain.
We paddle on the left, we paddle on the right.
Jim calls out “Hup” and we paddle through the night.
It’s dark and it’s gloomy, the clouds fill the sky.
We search but we can’t find a campsite that’s dry.
Everyone got wet, but only one didn’t care.
That one was Choice with the waterproof hair.
He sat in the middle with a smile on his face;
The rest of us wondered why Rich chose this place.