Boys in the Wilderness
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I don't have any idea how old I was, but I'm guessing about eight or nine when I was going to go on a trip with my aunt and uncle and my three cousins. My cousin Bud, his two sisters, and I were going to be a tight fit, apparently, because for some reason unknown to me now, Bud and I got to ride on this particular road trip in the trunk of their car. As I remember it, Bud's dad tied the trunk down loosely and left it open a little for us. We didn't think a thing about it at the time, except what fun it was. I also remember us sticking our hands out from under the trunk a couple of times and laughing as we waved to cars behind us. What a hoot. To a couple of boys it was just another adventure.
When we got to where we were going, Bud's dad untied the trunk and let us out. I had no idea where we were but it must have been some relative of my uncle because I thought I knew all of my aunt's relatives since she was mom's sister. We were in the woods somewhere and there was a small house or cabin. It was quite primitive as I recall because I was impressed with the big old wood burning stove for cooking. A small lake was there too. Although I don't know for sure I think the adults were here for the fishing. Bud and I were there for exploring in the woods and running around down by the lake and any place else that struck our fancy.
It was terrific fun being near the woods and water, and I was a little disappointed when our time was up and we had to climb back in the trunk to leave for home. Little did I know at the time but I had a souvenir with me. Later, perhaps the next day, I was at my grandparent's house, in the bathroom, when I discovered a funny looking black spot on my testical. Where in the heck did that thing come from, I wondered. I tried to flick it off, but suddenly I realized it was attached tightly and was alive. Oh no, it must be one of those blood-sucking wood tick bugs they all talked about back there at the cabin in the woods. What an embarrassing location to have a wood tick. Now what? How do I get the critter off of me?
I finally had to holler for help and much to my amazement my aunt and my grandma burst in. I was mortified and told them I needed mom or dad, but grandma said they were outside in the garden. Stop yelling and tell her what my problem was she insisted. I tried to explain it as delicately as I could because an eight year old doesn't have the right words to name such things to his aunt and grandma. Before I could finish I was grabbed and attacked by the two women with such vigor I wondered what had hit me. They made it seem like I was going to become impotent for life if they didn't act soon. I'll never be able to have children. Calm down and stop squirming, they insisted.
To my great shame they were checking, touching, poking, tugging, discussing options for extraction, and having animated motions as if I had no say in the matter. It was like an emergency surgical procedure to them and time was critical. Eventually they got the tick removed and left while I gathered my wits about me, pulled up my pants and beat a very hasty exit out of the house and into the yard.
I discovered from this experience that Mother Nature has a twisted, weird sense of humor now and again. Sometimes she gets the last laugh. I've also learned to carry and use liberal amounts of insect repellant to ward off the nasty buggers. I hate them with a passion. Stupid Mother Nature.
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About the Book
This is a light-hearted, oftentimes humorous commentary about men and boys on a wilderness canoe trip. With many intrigueing photos and text it shares personal glimpses into the interaction that unfolds between fellow companions as they encounter the vagaries of Mother Nature and act like boys. They laugh. They tease. They grunt and complain. They carry knives and they behave in ways not always appreciated back home.
In 1980, the comedic film titled "The Gods Must be Crazy" presented a satirical comparison of contemporary values with more primitive values by bringing together a culture of people who lived a life of interaction with the natural environment and a culture who did not.
The intent of this entertaining little book is to share yet another low budget venture into the arena of human values and relationships as unfolded by the author's own introduction and journeys into one of the diminishing wilderness regions still remaining in the United States; the Boundary Waters Canoe Area in northern Minnesota and southern Canada. There may be some casual social commentary but there are no claims of authority or righteousness in the book. There are only claims of fun and a little distrust of Mother Nature. She's sneaky.
About the Author
Larry lives in Iowa with his wife of 40+ years. They have two sons. He's an architect by day and a writer by night. This is his first book about his early exploits into the wilderness regions, specifically his first with his two boys when they were young teenagers. Writing is a hobby and one of his passions that he has decided to take to this next level. He claims to not be a "wordsmith". He trys to write as he talks.