“Don’t slow down,” she shouted, “not until we’re past it.”
As if hearing her, the canoe shifted back toward the rock.
“Paddle.Paddle!”she screamed.
He obeyed.
Two minutes later, she panted, “You can slow down now.”They’d passed the first set of rapids unscathed.The water stretched out smooth and nearly flat before them.The river had narrowed, and logic told him that meant it was deeper.Judging by the occasional small eddy, there were still probably rocks beneath the surface.
“Rock on the left,” he called without bothering to turn and look at Wanda.
“Got it.”She steered them past it without incident.
The sun burned its way out from behind the clouds and dried off the water he’d managed to splash on himself.As the river widened again, their speed slowed.
“There’s a flat bank over there, on the right,” Wanda said.“Let’s pull in and take a break.It’s a good place for lunch.”The promised bag lunch was safely stowed in a mini cooler.They expected to be on the river for about five hours today.
Eric focused on paddling as directed, and in minutes, he hopped out into the shallow water and pulled the canoe onto the sandy bank.
“Hamandcheddarcheese,or…” Wanda paused as she peeked inside the second sandwich.“It looks like pastrami on brown bread?Maybe?”
“I love them both,” Eric responded.“You take your pick.I’m hungry enough to eat a bear.”
“Geez, did you have to mention bears?”
“I think we’re okay here.”He looked around, but his voice didn’t sound convincing.
“Couldn’t you have waited to bring up bears until after I went into the bushes for privacy?”She was teasing.While she did have needs, she assumed they’d hear a bear coming.She hoped.
“I’m gonna sit here.”He spread his windbreaker on the sand and patted it.“There’s room for you.”
She picked up their lunch bag and joined him.“I’m having ham and cheese.You get the mystery meat.”She handed him the second sandwich.They ate in silence, enjoying the sun and sounds of nature.Several varieties of birds chirped overhead, and a squirrel scolded them from high in a spruce tree.
“Cookie or brownie?”Eric asked as he dug into their bag.
“Cookie for me.”
“It looks like oatmeal raisin.”He curled up his nose.
“My favorite,” she exclaimed, snagging the cookie out of his hand.
“Gross.Oatmeal raisin cookies are why I have trust issues.Dang raisins masquerading as chocolate chips.”
“Chocolate chip are only good hot out of the oven.Oatmeal raisin are delish even after they’ve been in the tin for a week and have started to dry out.Not that they ever last that long around me.I’m a foodie.Luckily, I was blessed with a good metabolism.”
They finished eating and stood.
“Ladies’ room is over here,” she pointed right, “and men’s is over there.”She walked into the bush, just far enough to be out of sight.As she finished up, a rustling came from her right.
“What was that?”she squeaked and bolted back toward the river, heedless of the thorny rosebushes she rushed through.
She stood knee-deep in the water, panting and staring at the underbrush.
“What’s wrong?”Eric asked, emerging from his side of the game trail.
“Animal.”She didn’t take her eyes off the bushes.“Probably a bear.”
A snowshoe hare hopped out, its fur still partially white.
