Canoe Soo Two

The current was slowly moving us past the grazing animals, and we eventually continued on.

The next long portage we again took our gear first, and planned on testing ourselves on some scary looking rapids. When we got to the take out point, we saw that we needed a safety person here, with a rope to save anyone that flipped or slipped. If they were caught in the current they would end up going over a dangerous section, without a canoe.

As the ranking Survival Instructor, Isador insisted on maintaining the throw rope, while Peter and I tried our luck.

We hurried back to our vessels, inflated our pfds and strapped our helmets on our heads.

It started out with me almost spilling on a simple section, where I forgot that I was so light, and I turned sideways for a moment, but my balance and my extended paddle saved me from the embarrassment of a dunking.

Peter shot past me as I struggled, and his passage through the class 2 section gave me all the information that I needed to find an easy, but fun line through the rocky gorge.

We didn't get a chance to cheer, as we had to back eddy to get to the other side, before we hit a standing wave and a rock shelf that would have flipped us for sure.

Suddenly we found ourselves at the exit point, and we both cheered for our achievement, as Isador stood there with the throw rope.

He dropped the line on the shore and hustled back for his own test, and I let Peter man the safety line while I found a better roost, to watch Isador as he found the lines.

I was just starting to wonder if he had slipped and he was forced to go to the shore to regroup, but he came shooting out from the first section of the gorge, with his arms in the air and cheering at the top of his lungs. I took some pictures for our Web Site. He sure looked young enough to me, as he cut the water furiously to get away from the dangerous rock shelf. He certainly had what it took to rank as an expert, at least at this level of whitewater.

The two of them were scouting out the next section when I got back to the canoes, so I hurried to catch up with them. They were squatting on a rock shelf and looking out over a class 3. They stood and turned to me as I got there.

"Neither of us think that we should do this one, but maybe you could do it?" Peter said, loud enough to be heard over the steady roar.

I felt a little skeptical, but maybe if there wasn't danger around the corner, I might try it empty. I do love a challenge.

I continued the investigation while they returned to get their gear.

Right around the corner, there was a white pine fallen across the river, leaving only a 3 foot gap at the far shore, and the water looked plenty deep enough, so I just had to check on the other side.

There was a swampy area another 200 meters down the shore, so this would be the spot to end this particular challenge. I passed my crew at the point where the pine tree nearly blocked the pass.

"You won't be able to get in here, with the current so swift you will not be able to get to the far end of the tree before you get swept under it. They nodded and carried their loads the short distance to the egress point, while I hurried to the other side of the hazard, with an eye to running a high line, and making my escape from the sweeper a lot easier.

By the time I got to my gear, Izzy and Peter had returned so that they could take my gear for me, and watch some of my passage.

I hit the water hard to get in the best position, then I popped into the fast flow, and did a roller coaster ride dropping lower than I wanted to, to skirt a rock that I hadn't seen from shore. The low line was going to make my move to the far side of the river, very challenging, but I hit the water like a savage, using my entire frame to jack my way like a lunatic, to the narrow ribbon of water at the far shore.

As I straightened out to pass the tree, I saw Izzy standing in the water with the throw line. Always cautious, and this time he had good reason for his concern.

"That was not smart," I acknowledged as I got to shore and Isador came jogging into the recovery area.

"Thanks for having my back Professor," I thanked my old teacher.

"I wouldn't give you a good grade for judgment, young lady, but your skill is amazing!" He lectured and encouraged me like a great educator.

We got to paddle for 30 minutes, before we came to an unrunnable section, with a small waterfall then a rock garden of level 3 and 4 rapids followed by Whispering Falls, a drop of 10 meters that could have been called bridal veil falls, but that name had been taken by a few hundred other waterfalls, and someone thought that they could hear whispering, so...

"A great spot for lunch," I suggested, pointing to the spot on the topographical map. "I suggest that we all double carry, due to the quick drop."

They didn't even nod, they just picked up their gear and left the canoes for another trip. If it was too vigorous, we could have lunch, and then get the canoes down.

We worked as a team, and took extra care, where a tumble might leave a pack or a leg broken. It took so long that we had to rest, just to start making lunch!

We didn't have to cook though, so Izzy set to purifying some water, while I got the trail mix out. Peter found some wild garlic and mushrooms to add to our dinner later.

"If there's a good spot to catch fish, I can bake it with wild onion, garlic and mushrooms," Peter suggested, as Izzy brought over some cold water that everyone craved.

We could have walked back while eating trail mix, but the falls looked great, with the noon sun sparkling off the higher section that had a hollow area behind the falling deluge.

The noise was not bad here, and I could imagine a whisper, as the wind came through the trees.

"I will fall asleep if we sit any longer," Isador exclaimed, and jumped to his feet to hit the trail back to his canoe. We didn't let him get very far, before we followed his lead.

I was hoping that we would put in enough travel each day, to have an off day and hike up to a fire tower that someone marked on an old map. So we had to keep going downriver. The weather was still holding and Peter took his shirt off, so Izzy and I followed suit. The next portage was quick, so I didn't put my shirt on even for that, staying ahead of the black flies and skeeters that only darker areas of the woods have in abundance at this time of year.

Peter gave my fanny a playful pat at one point. Something he can't do when he's teaching.

On a lazy section of the river we talked.

"Did you ever hear how Loren won the Sioux Forestry Marathon when she was invited as a senior in her High School?" Professor Phillips asked his fellow teacher.

He didn't wait for any prodding, but continued with his story.

"She had just turned 17, and she had to traverse the 28 km course with 16 portages and a cargo of 47 pounds." He paused for a deep breath, or to set the stage.

"Her main opponent among females was our Canoe and Kayak Instructor, Mrs. Henderson. She was only 35 and she was still in really good shape, and we all drooled over her." Izzy's reminiscing was making him smile.

"Anyway, she got to the finish line first, and she was so ecstatic about beating the new kid, and the other men, for that matter."

"Yeah, but didn't she withdraw, for some reason?" Peter had heard the story.

"Oh, I made sure of that," Izzy slyly replied.

I knew why she withdrew, but I never knew the rest of the story.

"I was in that same race. It was the last time I ran it," Isador explained.

"I was just behind Todd, our fastest student, when I found Sharron's double blade in the grass along the portage. She had no paddle with her, when she got to the water, and she had to use her spare, which everyone must bring as a part of the standard equipment. But no one ever uses their backup, because you are disqualified if you leave anything behind.

She was going to claim that trophy, but I showed up with her paddle, and it had her name right on it.

"So why did it go for two days before she conceded," I asked. I was always perplexed by that, and wondered if she was just being nice.

"Well, I gave her a day to admit it," Izzy said, but he was smiling like a fox.

"She seduced me, and gave me the best head I'd ever gotten," he admitted. "Man, was she ever pissed off when I told her that she still had to admit to her mistake."

We all laughed about Izzy's ill gotten blowjob. I remembered that she left the college during my first year.

"The next year I heard her telling Mr. Jenkins that she gave up that race to the pretty little girl from Watamaki. I stood right up and gave her a piece of my mind, and she was brought up before the Disciplinary Committee before the day was over," Professor Isador Phillips gave me the rest of the story.

We decided to put up only one tent on the second night. These two had been on trips together, so they were not shy around each other.

We wanted to catch some fish, and it was just the right time of day, so we went back out on the water and separated to find our dinner.

I heard Peter shout from the other side, and Izzy was closer, so he went to help with the net.

I hooked one myself, and it turned out to be a 4 pound Arctic Char.

We had enough with my fish alone, but Peter caught another one, and Izzy would be skunked.

Our Survival Specialist filleted the two small pickerel, and gutted the Arctic Char that Peter wanted to bake between two slabs of rock. He used some Bay powder, and the wild onions and garlic to make a thick coating inside, on the flesh of the big predator fish.

Peter found a thin slab to reflect the heat down onto the large fish.

I grilled the mushrooms and the pickerel, as a quick bite. The gourmet fish would have to cook for 30 minutes, and we were all famished.

Of course I was feeling bloated by the time Peter cut the body into 6 steaks, so we found a used plastic bag in our kitchen kit, to put 3 steaks away for lunch tomorrow.

The baked Arctic Char just flaked away from the spine, and Peter's coating had soaked into the flesh, as it dried in the oven. All of the gaminess was replaced with the taste of wild garlic.

The mosquitoes no longer bothered us at night, but I still had to have long pants and a fluffy shirt to fight off the chill. It was also great to have a nice fire, with Peter identifying the exact subspecies of maple tree that he had found.

"This is the Sugar Maple, that gives us our five fingered Maple Leaf which is proudly displayed on the jersey of every avid Hockey fan in Canada, and coincidentally, on our National flag."

Peter is an avid Toronto hockey fan, even though they had never been any good in my 22 years. My father loved their rivals, the Montreal Canadians, but I never took to the sport, either to watch or play.

"We should stay up and howl a bit," Izzy suggested. "I have a pint of brandy that my brother sent me from England, and I'd love to share it with you two. It's been sitting in my desk drawer at work, and I don't know what prompted me to bring it."

"Well, I'm an adult, so I'm getting my pipe and a little bit of Mary Jane, if you stodgy old guys don't mind," I added, and they both encouraged me to fetch it.

They had the ground sheet from the extra tent, so we put it down like a blanket, and they made a warm spot for me between them. I snuggled in between my two clients with my feet to the fire and took a swig from Isador's brandy flask. It was actually an earthen vessel, with a cork, so I wondered if it was as old as him. It was sweet though, so I enjoyed the warmth that it put in my belly, and the sweetness that I licked off of their lips as the evening progressed.

They enjoyed my pot too, reminding me that it wasn't invented five or even fifty years ago. As a matter of fact, Izzy said that his father had been prescribed cannabis in 1922, as a sleep potion. According to his father it made the women crazy with lust, so we laughed and groped a bit, and it could have evolved into a fire pit fuck, but we started howling just for fun, and the wolves answered back!

Peter picked his pants back up and laughed when we heard the returning echo of a pack of wild wolves.

Of course we tried too hard after that, or the wolves knew that we were laughing and they were offended, but it was still magic to our ears.

I filled the collapsible bucket, while they broke up the fire and kicked dirt into the mix. We had to get two more buckets, but we still had to check our perimeter and put away the ground sheet.

I got to the tent first, while my two companions took the time to empty their bladders.

I heard Peter laughing about something, then Izzy said, "heads or tails?" and they broke down laughing again. Shocking behavior for two old dudes, but I was still going to drain their cocks.

"Do you guys want to suck each other, while I watch?" I asked my wide eyed man friends.

They just stared at me. You could hear the crickets.

"I didn't see that in the brochure." Peter quipped, and we all started laughing again.

"One day I'm going to get a surprise when I say that," I ventured with a laugh.

"I bet that it will just turn you on when it happens," Izzy quietly suggested, and I knew that he was right again. I was a little disappointed when Art and Carl didn't do it, but that gave me more to love, and I'm a selfish bitch sometimes.

Our love making was different, with the men having to be respectful of each other, while optimizing my pleasure, but they worked as a team, and they had me quivering from the joy of life in no time. We made love for over an hour, then we each got into our own cocoon style sleeping bags, for a well earned sleep.

I heard Isador go out for his mandatory pee, but Peter was up before either of us again, making the coffee. The Prof looked so comfortable and he was making sweet breathing noises, so I left him in his dreams and went to help with breakfast.

Peter was mixing up some pancakes, so I checked my satellite device to confirm that bad weather would hit us by noon. We would not be on any big lakes today, so we would travel, rather than be cooped up in the tent all day. Even young men get tired of sex by day three, and can only make love for two or three hours, so we would have to play cards or word games. Not our favorite activity. We might as well be a little wet, on the outside. Then you don't care if you spill, being soaked already.

Our elder friend finally smelled the coffee and hurried to breakfast.

"Sorry Loren, but I'm not used to this much activity at night," he excused his oversleeping.

"I'm sure it's just the fresh air Izzy, my friend," Peter encouraged his old pal.

"By God, I'm glad I'm here!" Isador boasted and two loons took a turn down this quiet section of the river honking their annoyance over us being there.

The wind picked up as soon as we were on the water, but it was behind us from the south. A wind from the north would bring colder air and storms, so we were glad that we didn't need our windbreakers and hoodies.

I was soaked two hours and three portages later. The rain was not heavy, but it hadn't let up a bit.

We hovered under a great white pine that didn't let any rain through, absorbing half of what landed on it, and channeling the rest through its labyrinth of bark. I shed my thin plastic water slicker and stood with my tits hanging, while I rummaged for my fluffy shirt. We had to eat the fish for lunch. It would be more than a crime to us to waste half of that majestic fish, so we shifted enough rocks to make a good but temporary fire pit. We could also warm ourselves, while the fish steaks warmed up and stayed moist in a pot.

There was no risk to the forest, though less experienced campers are encouraged to make fires only where they have safely been made before, but it was a boggy soil and we put rocks over the moist earth, so there was no risk of a root smoldering.

I wish we had taken the time to make rice, because the Char was even better reheated, and so flavorful that it could have carried two cups of rice to make it a full meal. We were burning a lot of calories. Day and night! So we had some sweet almonds and dried banana slices. I was very happy with my sex life, and I didn't need them to lose any weight. They could use some cardio in their winter activities, but they were in better than average shape.

"So is it true that you have had physical relationships with every one of your clients this year, Miss Campbell?" My senior Professor inquired, but he didn't look like he was condemning me.

"Only the ones that I wanted to fuck Sir!" I truthfully answered back. "It is my right, I believe."

"What about the ones that are in relationships?" Izzy wondered, but didn't seem concerned either way.

"I am only responsible for my own commitments, sir, and that involves as much love as I can share." I decreed, as my motive in life.

"Oh boy. Miss Campbell, ...Loren, you are a marvelous example of a modern woman, and you are just what society needs." Peter interrupted with his opinion.

We enjoyed more spirited conversation involving the intrusion of tongues into and around our privates.

I had some deep orgasms with these men that were just learning what buttons that I like having pushed.

Men are so easy.

We only had one tarp, but we added the extra tent body as a wind block, and we ended the night with one of the dehydrated meals that cost a lot, but they are very very good. Two servings is marked for every pouch, but we ignore that up here, unless you're squeezing a dollar, then you can use one pouch and two cups of rice to feed two. We had set a good pace, but the foul weather would continue until midday next.

Our day had been drizzly so far, but the afternoon brought a return of the sun, and by 3 I had my heavy shirt off. I stayed with my bikini top without even thinking about it. Perhaps it was so the men would keep their shirts on, as it was in the low 70's. I was still their leader, and I had to keep their health needs in mind.

We all agreed that one tent was fine, so we stayed that way for the rest of the week. At one point I felt Izzy playing with my clit, while Peter was pounding in my pussy and I was sucking on Izzy's cock!

I think that these two were becoming better friends, though it didn't look like it would be a sexual one. Just a deeper respect, and a recognition of common ideals.

The forecast was clear for the remainder of our trip, which was no guarantee, but our day off was tomorrow, and it was going to be a warm bright day, so we designated it as a free day, and put up a nice camp for two nights.

I put them to bed, like a girlfriend should. They both deserved such treatment every night. And so did I!

We talked a lot more now. They think that I am wise, far beyond my age. It is thrilling to be accepted for what I can give, and if some of that is sexual, ... Well we make our own choices, if we're lucky and free!

We started our hike day with a brisk love making before breakfast.

Peter's coffee boiled over and he worked really hard to keep the coffee pot usable for the rest of our trip. We still didn't start out before 11. Peter carried our lunch and Isador carried our water, while I only had an emergency pack.

The leader in me went over the inventory as I walked.

I wondered how we would adjust the thin bedroll and emergency blanket to keep the three of us warm enough to survive a September night above the 49th parallel? The rope saw would cut fallen trees and the flint would ignite the flame that we would need to survive in an extreme emergency. Then I compartmentalized that plan, and enjoyed the two lookout points that we found, though they were not marked.

They were stunning vistas, and my clients took numerous pics and videos for their memories.