The exercise:
Write about a: misadventure.
Because it's still an adventure!
(On the drive to the campsite we were briefly stuck in a ditch. I did a dumb, don't ask. Several kind passersby helped us get out of said ditch. I suspect it will be the main story of the trip for the boys for quite some time.)
2 comments:
Hmm, so we have to guess how you ended up in a ditch? Are their prizes for the best suggestion? (And it doesn't surprise me in the least that in Canada there are kind passersby willing to stop and help out!) Hmm, so I think that maybe you had the radio on while driving, to inform you of any local traffic issues, and they happened to mention the Canucks in an unflattering light, and while you were telling the radio announcer how wrong they were the ditch sneaked up and crept under you?
Misadventure
Margaret's Rise was upstream from the Gulch by a decent walk, probably an hour I judged from the way my legs felt. Normally I'd not have batted an eyelid at walking for an hour, but normally I hadn't just been spelunking through caves and climbing long, long rock-cut steps half-way up a mountain. I wasn't tired exactly when we reach the cliff face and the remains of the balloon, but I was definitely glad to perch myself on a convenient outcropping of stone and just relax for a moment.
Ben got to prodding around the wreckage almost immediately but that man couldn't sit still in a church with the priest's eye on him. Jimmy looked like he was going to sit down, but then he decided to join Ben.
"No signs of animals," said Ben, kicking part of the basket aside. The basket appeared to have broken into three big pieces, maybe a few more little ones as well. "Nothing's chewed on, and there's nothing living under anything." He bent down and picked up a sandbag and eyed the bag of Jimmy's head for a moment.
"How did this all work?" asked Jimmy, oblivious to Ben's prankish mood and a probable concussion. "What did all these ropes do? This seems a mighty adventurous contraption."
"I don't think we ever figured that out," I said, shaking my head at Ben. He shrugged and let the sandbag fall. "Ben pulled a lot of them, but it never made much difference that I saw. Misadventurous contraption might be a better name for it."
Ben lifted an edge of the balloon silk and started hauling it into his arms, winding it up. "I think they mostly tied the balloon to the basket," he said. "The little guy who own-- previously owned it said something about tightening them to shape the balloon, but he never got round to explaining what the shape had to do with anything."
"Never got round to?" said Jimmy, his words innocent and pure.
"He went swimming," said Ben. "Seemed like he was in a bit of a hurry."
We gathered the balloon up as best we could; Ben took the silk which was surprisingly heavy when it was all bundled together, and Jimmy took the largest bits of the basket, which left me with the rope, which was also surprisingly heavy when it was all together. We considered the sandbags until it was almost too dark to walk back safely, and then we decided to carry them anyway, just in case. Well, Ben and I decided Jimmy should carry them since they were supposed to attach to the basket, and he stopped protesting after he noticed the sun setting.
"It's been an interesting day," said Ben, as we followed the river back down to Elizabethtown. The footing by the banks wasn't the securest, but it was easy to avoid getting lost this way. "I could use something to eat, some sleep, and then I want to hear your plans, Red."
"Right," I muttered.
Greg - pretty sure you got the part about the ditch sneaking up and creeping under me right...
The boys have had a rather exhausting day of adventuring (with a decent dash of misadventuring tossed in). I suspect they'll sleep well, even with Ben's snoring.
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