The marina is nestled just down past that crop of trees.Travor, my longtime friend since we could walk, has been my partner in crime on many great voyages across our lake camping and fishing. We have always taken bacon and eggs regardless of the distance, I don't even remember ever breaking one with all the hiking and tossing around of kit bags. We took those trips in my first plywood rowboat. Basically a pram, but with floor boards flat so you could sleep in the bottom of the boat. The seat used for rowing sat in a slot so you could remove it to lay down. I only slept in it twice but it shows that you can sleep in a 9ft rowboat. It was built with plywood, nails, exterior caulking, and paint. None of this fancy epoxy etc. It never, ever leaked except when I punched a hole in it on a rock. My repair kit consisted of a few squares of panel board, some screws and screwdriver, and glue.
When the boat was new, myself and Travor were only around 11 years old and we could sit side by side and row. No communication, other that "where are we going today?" "The narrows" was the reply and we would row. Kitbag's full of food, fishing rods and a bottle or sausage can full of worms in dirt. I remember many days the only thing that rippled the water was my boat being rowed by us, on days just like this.
p.s. My friends Max and Greg now know what I mean when I talk about these days, they have seen the place now too.
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