The SS Shelley (Aug 2011)

Time for another edition of time seekers. In early August, my relationship with craigslist hit a new high when I bought a canoe. A sexy forest green 17 footer, named the SS Shelley. Because of the hectic summer I had, I only took it out once those last two weeks of summer, and since then it has been sitting back at home in Utica.
Soon all of that will change however. Once I am settled in my apartment on June 1, the SS Shelley is moving to Binghamton. From there my life as a Canadian privateer in the Bay of Fundy can begin.
Combined with getting a car next year, and finally being done with intro science labs and endless EMT class, I'll have so much time soon enough to take my canoe out on trips down the mighty Susquehanna to visit AG. The potential is unbounded, inviting other boat owners over for dinner cruises, wearing boating shoes UNIRONICALY, and did you know upon purchase you get inducted into the Nautical Nancies Club? It's true!

This all happened literally the day after getting the canoe. My sister and I took it out for a test run to see how amazingly awesome our lives would now be. It didn't disappoint. Really. No, seriously.

Driving with the canoe on the roof was the scariest experience ever. It makes the most painful noises and I swear to god it was slowly sliding down the car. For this reason, we only went a relatively short way for this pioneering expedition, to Hinckley Reservoir.

We paddled around for a while, and then looked for a spot to set aground and eat lunch. Thus, we paddled around some more for a while because half the reservoir is posted property, but because the signs are so small you don't know this until you're about to set down. Eventually we found a nice spot, right next to an older couple who I am pretty sure we cockblocked because 5 minutes later the old tiger and his rawhide of a wife went up over the ridge and I've never heard sea gulls give that particular warning cry before.

Swim away, just swim away

The place where we parked was sketch as hell. We got back to the car to see a ghetto ass note scrawled that said to pay a parking permit to the green house across the road. Coincidentally it was the house from The Hills Have Eyes. This house was your classic hick home, with overgrown weeds barely concealing enough rotting cars and farm equipment to give the fish in the lake a quarter mile away tetanus. It didn't look like a certified water permit dealer, is what I'm saying. Especially since the mess of a woman I paid stuffed the money into what looked like an old plastic tub of pretzels.

from pumsimon

We're pretty sure we got scammed horribly, we plan on going back this summer with my dad. Ie: The distributor of water conservation permits for the our region's DEC. Yea, we are sicking the environment police on her.

SWERVE!