Adventure-A-Day

Lesson one in the Great Canoe Adventure: buying the canoe is the easy part. 

Driving with a canoe on top of my car? Not so easy--especially since I had trouble getting it tied down securely. The woman who sold me the canoe helped, but she was a little fuzzy on the details of canoe-securing since her husband had been in charge of that and, sadly, he died in December, which was why she was selling the canoe (and paddles, life jackets, supplemental sling seat, and car-top straps and pads).

I found the canoe on Craigslist, spoke to the widow woman on the phone, drove two hours early this morning to check it out, and handed over the money. Easy part done. My husband was tied up marrying people, so it was just the widow woman and me attaching the pads and lifting the canoe on top of my car and then fumbling with the straps, trying them first one way and then another until it seemed secure.

My first mistake, I think, was in trying to take the quickest route toward my daughter and son-in-law's house, which meant getting onto the interstate before I was really ready to deal with the difference a canoe on top of the car can make. I got off a the first exit that presented itself and sat there breathing deeply while rethinking the situation.

Then began my real education: putt-putting at 35 or 40 miles per hour on state roads through three-horse towns that probably boast impressive historic architecture that I never saw because I was constantly monitoring the state of the tie-downs. At first I had to stop and tighten them about every 10 miles, but eventually I found a way to keep the canoe from sliding around for as much as 20 miles at a stretch, with long lines of cars following me because every time I nudged the car above 50, the canoe would shift and start to scream.

How can I describe the noise of that vibration? The aural equivalent of a dental drill, maybe. I learned soon enough that the canoe made more noise when the tie-downs started loosening up, but I would wait until the screaming was really unbearable before stopping to tighten and readjust once again.

But the canoe and I made it. It's still sitting on top of my car. My son-in-law the engineer has promised to figure out a better way to secure the tie-downs so I can drive it home on Tuesday, at which point we will learn how to secure it to my husband's car, which has a roof rack. 

The easy part is over, but next comes the fun part: getting my canoe into the water. Another day, another adventure.