Fixed on the elixir
May the water take us, and make us, much like the liquid flows, into and of and one with the others, the currents the collective bestows.
I’d heard of the infamy, the prestige of canoe trips of the past. Stories of laughter and animated exchange between great brethren have filled my ear on a regular basis, and so when I received the invite on Facebook to skim the Wisconsin River on a late summer weekend with a clutch of old comrades, I felt like a fish having finally found the pond. The process was to include uproarious shenanigans, humble anecdotes of soulful inquisition and the unquestionable tomfoolery relegated to a handful of cunning creatures crashing nature’s available bachelor pad.
Inclusion is a word that hardly offers proper justice to the aforementioned aspects of the most recent weekend. From the moment we packed our tents, duffels and canoes into the back of the trucks and began our climb across the countryside, our abs enlisted within the weekend warrior program. The sound of laughter might as well have been the air itself because it erupted from our lungs like concert notes from a stack of speakers, and each area on the side of the road that was deemed suitable for rest included exclamation for and admiration of each other.
If you have any technical difficulties, either with your username and password or with the payment options, please contact us by e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org