Showing posts with label The Sundowner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Sundowner. Show all posts

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Table of Contents

Below you'll find a chronological map for my blog.  Each post is also linked at the end to the next entry.  Feel free to follow my journey in order or jump around...read what you want, when you want.  :)



 Table of Contents for Yukon River Trip's Blog


THE DREAM

PREPARATIONS

THE DRIVE

THE YRT DAILY JOURNAL


This Table of Contents is not complete
& will evolve as the entries do.
This blog is a work-in-progress;
please return every once in a while to see what's new.


Monday, September 24, 2012

Thursday, January 19, 2012

The Sundowner Braves the Indiana Snow!

She traveled all the way to the Yukon Territory this past summer, but of course, the Sundowner never saw a flake of snow while in the Land of the Midnight Sun (though she did spend nearly 3 weeks carrying us through the 40-degree waters (°F) of Lake Laberge & the Yukon River.  The Yukon's summer days oozed warmth when the sun seemed to circumnavigate us in clear, blue and indescribably vast skies.  Our nights (which never really got dark like our Indiana nights) were more than chilly, but bearable with the right amount of layers and gear. 

photo by Ernie Mills

You may be wondering how the Sundowner is passing her days during this mild but finally snowy winter.  Well, stop by Nurpu River & Mountain Supply to see for yourself!  She's parked out in Nurpu's front yard, so you can't miss the Sundowner if you're driving in or out of Noblesville on SR 38.  Feel free to walk up and around the boat to get a deeper understanding of what it was like for Jake & I to call this boat our home for three weeks during this past summer as we ventured the waters of the wild Yukon River.  Once you're done wondering what could we have been thinking when we dreamed up this crazy adventure, head into Nurpu's log cabin store.  You don't have to be a kayaker or backpacker to find something that will climb to the top of your I-have-got-to-have-that! list. 
Nurpu River & Mountain Supply
16907 Mystic Road
Noblesville, IN 46060
317.773.1560



Sunday, November 27, 2011

The Sundowner Participates in the Noblesville Christmas Parade

photo by John Stewart
The Sundowner, made her debut as a float in the 2011 Noblesville Christmas Parade.  Donning gear from Nurpu River & Mountain Supply, she made her way through the streets of Noblesville, helping to share some Nurpu Christmas spirit.  Kevin & Kylene Huff (& Tank!) from Nurpu pulled the Sundowner, while photographer Ernie Mills documented the event en route. 

Kylene & Kevin Huff and Ernie Mills*
Nurpu's Kevin Huff Secures Kayaks for the Parade*
photo by Ernie Mills*


The Sundowner from Yukon River Trip Awaits the Noblesville Christmas Parade*

photo by Ernie Mills*

Tank Huff is ready to go!*

photo by Ernie Mills*
Downtown Noblesville*
Noblesville's 2011 Christmas Parade*
*Ernie Mills, Photographer

Nurpu was an invaluable sponsor for our Yukon River Trip!

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Sunday, August 21, 2011

10 Things I Hate to Admit about My Yukon River Trip

Here's a collection of thoughts, actions, or whatnots that I would have been embarrassed to admit before I went on our Yukon River Trip.  But somehow, these tidbits seem like an important part of my adventure that I should share.

1.  As I was standing in an empty partaking lot in Whitehorse directly after our time on the Yukon River, I felt nature calling.  Before I realized what I was doing, I had already scoped out a bear-free bush to relieve myself….  Sorry I can't make this story any better; I only said I scoped it out; I didn't act upon my newly acquired natural instinct.  Instead, I excused myself and walked into the nearby McDonalds.

2. The Canadian & US Border Officers we encountered were all younger than us.

3.  While on our Yukon River Trip, I will admit that my survival instincts did surprise me.  More than once I caught myself selfishly eying the remaining filtered water or coveting a larger scoop out of the dinner pan.  

4.  We listened to Meat Loaf's Bat out of Hell album and sang at the top of our lungs…a few times.  (Hey, you try spending 14 days of your summer hauling an overloaded trailer while covering almost 7,000 miles; you'd be surprised what you resort to in order to stay awake and to divert insanity's scheme against you.

5.   Almost 2 weeks after returning home from our summer adventure, I was still sleeping in my clothes.  The Yukon nights got down to the low 40s (℉), and I was already wearing my warmest clothes when it was time to burrow into my sleeping bag.  Furthermore, changing required more exertion than just crawling into my cocoon of promised warmth; changing for bed just didn't seem important or necessary at the time.  I also slept along side bug carcasses--big ones, little ones…it just was not a priority to dispose of them before laying my weary head to rest for the night. The Yukon had a way of altering my priorities without ever really bringing them to my attention.

6.  I cried like a baby on the river…more than once. 

7.  I went 20 days without a full head-to-toe shower or bath.  Because the water temperature on the Yukon River was around 40 ℉, fully submersing myself in the chilly waters was not practical.  I got my nerve up twice to fully dunk my head for a good shampoo.  The water was cold and stabbed dull butter knives into any piece of flesh daring enough to linger longer than a brief moment or two.

8. I ate fallen food off the dirty cabin floor and deck of our boat--every precious calorie mattered!

9.   After our first week back home, I realized that I had only taken two showers:  one the morning we arrived home and one a few days later.   During that first week back on my way to the grocery store, one glance in the rearview mirror revealed that I had not put an ounce of makeup on nor had I made any attempt to tame the messy bun that was atop my head.  I had also neglected to put on deodorant (so unlike me!).

10.  During our Lake Laberge horror, I begged and screamed prayers up to God and thought He wasn't listening.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Back Home Again in Indiana...

After driving through the night one last time, I am happy to announce that WE ARE FINALLY HOME!  

How strange it was to pull into our driveway early this morning (around 7:00 AM).  As we approached our neighborhood, excitement festered and oozed out of us.  We wanted nothing more than to be out of the Expedition and done with our week-long drive, but as we pulled into our beloved neighborhood, a surrealness blanketed me.  The houses that led the way to our home were not as I remembered.  They seemed...smaller and...closer together.  The expected and anticipated familiarity of home did not embrace me.  The previous five years of residency seemed a lifetime away, not just a mere five weeks.  

After unhooking the Sundowner, we decided that it would be best to unload the boat & Expedition before getting too comfortable.  But before unpacking, we first explored our home, and thanks to our most awesome neighbor Karis, our air had been turned on the previous day and our fridge stocked with a few necessities (which included a couple of pizzas from Papa Murphy's, bread & deli meat...).  How blessed we are to have such awesome neighbors!  It truly is good to be home.



Thursday, July 21, 2011

Jake & Susan Are Back on Dry Land!: Day 19 of the Yukon River Trip

     Jake & I are happy to announce that we have finished our Yukon River Trip adventure!  We pulled into Carmacks on the evening of our 12th anniversary, covering 202 miles of the mighty Yukon River.  Early on in our quest, we decided to forego our original destination of Dawson City for a number of reasons.  Though we definitely could have made the 460 miles to Dawson City, it became quite clear that we were losing sight of some of our original trip goals.
     Our venture quickly took on the feel of all work and no play.  Yes, we knew we had our work cut out for us, but even before we left town, we began to feel as though the planning of this trip was a second job.  Then when it was finally time to depart, the six-day drive wore us down even more (we only stopped at three motels--the rest of the nights we drove on through to cover the 3,300 miles to Whitehorse.  The weight and aerodynamics of the trailer and boat slowed us down much more than we anticipated.
     Once arriving in Whitehorse (finally!), we took two nights at the Yukon Inn to recover...or so we thought we would.  We quickly found ourselves running here and there--getting fishing licenses, last-minute gear, checking the river and launching sites, reorganizing our gear from the drive, making arrangements for storing our truck and trailer (thank you Sports North!), etc.  When we finally hit the river on the afternoon of July 3rd, we were still exhausted from the months of planning, the 3,300 miles of driving, and the preparations once reaching Whitehorse.
     As we got a handle on how the Sundowner maneuvered on the Yukon River, a river so different from any back home, we soon discovered that the wind was going to be our biggest challenge.  Lake Laberge, the 30-mile lake we had to cross early in our route, surprised us by how calm she appeared to be as we entered her waters.  At first, the glass-like surface and windless skies deceived us, as we later found ourselves battling the horrific winds and waves that Laberge is known to produce without notice.  The structure of the Sundowner took quite a beating from Lake Laberge (and so did we).
     After sneaking out of Laberge late in the evening and rowing through the night because her winds seemed to be the calmest then (thankgoodness for the almost 20-hours of sunlight), we found ourselves taking on the wind during the next stretch of Yukon River, known as the Thirty Mile River.  It was apparent that we would most likely continue to battle the wind--not the river--the whole way.  Jake & I found that we had not had any time to explore, play, recover, or even feed ourselves properly, and I wasn't journaling--simply recording the miles of the day and basic events.  We were just too worn down.  We felt we were putting in overtime covering miles, ignoring what the real purpose of our trip was.
     So, we decided to take a couple of days off to rest up, reorganize the cabin, and play.  Panning for gold and fishing were the highlights of this break; they were the first "just for fun" moments of the trip.  This made us revisit our goals and begin thinking about changing our final destination.  You see, Dawson City was not our goal; working together to live on our boat as we explored the awesome Yukon River and followed in the paddle strokes of so many before us.  We weren't exploring; we were simply covering miles and wearing ourselves out as we battled the wind with our boat, watching the canoes and kayaks zip by us.  
     We did the math daily; we could still make it to Dawson City, but with the frequent and unpredictable winds the Yukon blows, we knew we needed to readjust the final destination in order to meet our goals.  We worked hard, played a bit, and learned much during our fifteen days as we covered 202 miles of the Yukon River from Whitehorse to Carmacks.


(As we travel home we will be posting journal portions, pictures, 
and memories of our trip.  So, check back soon!)


Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Departing from Carmacks & the Yukon River: Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip

...continued from "Jake's Return to Carmacks:  Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip"

In spite of the last 24 sleepless hours of bootless fishing, incessant gold panning, ill-intentioned visitors, relentless packing, and drawn out shuttle rides, we somehow managed to load up the Expedition for our impending departure.  Without reprieve, our next challenge awaited us:  getting the Sundowner on the trailer (and eventually out of the Yukon River!).   We knew battling the strong, swift Yukon current was unavoidable.

This picture is from the Sundowner's deck.  Our plan was to back the stern away from the bank & use NRS straps to pull the boat upstream a short distance to load the Sundowner onto the trailer before having the Expedition pull both trailer & boat up the ramp & out of the Yukon River.

Experience taught us to prepare for the worst-possible scenario:  losing the Sundowner to the current.  No boat ramps existed downriver, not even for the boat alone.  Overpowered by the current, the Sundowner would surely wreck, creating an expensive & nearly impossible retrieval.  Taking precautions, we tied one end of a blue NRS strap to our boat & anchored the other end to the trees until we combined the other NRS straps into two longer straps, securing both from our boat to the trailer.  These would serve as guide ropes, aligning the boat & trailer while also pulling the Sundowner close enough to attach the manual winch strap, which when cranked secures her into position.  We also hitched our battery powered winch on the bow of the Sundowner in anticipation of needing more than just muscle to load our boat.  And once again, we had an audience; a local couple materialized & watched us from their parked car on the circle drive (which, of course, added to the already escalating stress & pressure we were under).

Anchored by NRS Straps in Carmacks, YT

Backing the trailer down the boat ramp & into the water triggered yet another onslaught from the Yukon's unrelenting campaign to deny us any predictability.  As Jake inched the trailer farther out toward the necessary depth to receive the Sundowner, the river's powerful waters waged full force against the trailer.  The Yukon River strove for victory as its surging current grabbed onto the tail of our 2000 lb. trailer, threatening to carry it downstream.  The unforgiving water pledged one of three outcomes:  to mangle the trailer beyond use, to break the trailer from the Expedition, or to claim both the trailer & the Expedition as casualties in its assault.  My frantic screams & gestures sent the Expedition & the trailer lurching forward as Jake drove back up the ramp and broke the water's promise of demise.  And still, the couple brazenly watched our struggles unfold from the circle drive (a little help would have been nice!).

Onlookers usually parked on the left side of the circle drive
near the Carmacks boat launch.
 

Plan B transpired and then soaked in my anxiety & worst-case scenarios as Jake backed the trailer & the Expedition off the soft, squishy river bank & into a shallow pool just upstream of and next to the ramp.  From there, we followed our original idea of using NRS straps to secure & guide the Sundowner onto the trailer.  The forceful, icy current taunted me, and doubt stole my courage as I balanced on submerged bars of the slippery trailer & fought rushing water up past my knees.  I gave up trying to guide our boat toward the trailer with the NRS straps; Jake took over & grappled with the reigns to align the boat before we both wrestled the Sundowner into her secure position (and not without help from both the manual & battery powered winches).  The river just didn't want to let her go.

Climbing back into the Expedition, Jake stomped on the gas daring the mighty Yukon River to give the Sundowner up to its soft, mushy bank.  I yelled for Jake to stop after watching slushy sand & pebbles hinder the departure.  Tension rose as I shared my hesitation with Jake, and incredibly, two sets of eyes still stared out at us from behind the windshield of the parked car on the circle drive.  Jake ignored my disbelief & the gawking locals and floored the pedal again, this time spurring movement (& hope!).  The Expedition roared as it slowly inched forward.  My heart pounded as the back tires grabbed for pavement.  Holding my breath, I watched the trailer's first set of tires slide through the soggy sand.  Jake didn't let up, and the engine dominated with a slow, steady pace as the stern of the Sundowner left the water and the trailer's last set of wheels finally mounted the paved road!  I imagine the inquisitive locals parked on the circle drive expected their curious, doubting stupor to last longer.  Now what would they do?  I stood in my own lingering fog of skepticism & marveled at our first stroke of luck since our departure from Whitehorse nearly 3 weeks ago on Day 1 of our Yukon River Trip.  

Jake put the truck in park & joined me on the bank of the Yukon River to celebrate our latest feat before saying goodbye to our beloved spot in Carmacks.  Exhausted, we stood together trying to absorb the sobering reality & surreal finality of our exit off the Yukon River.






COMING SOON:
Click here to continue by reading 
"Returning to Whitehorse:  Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip."




Jake's Return to Carmacks: Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip

...continued from "Alone & Anxiously Awaiting Jake's Return to Carmacks:  Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip"

The Expedition continued toward me & the Yukon River until the circle drive rounded it away from the water's edge to grant easier access to Carmacks' public boat launch.  Backing up, Jake plunged the trailer into the water and then turned the Expedition to point back up the road for our impending departure from the mighty Yukon River.  Driving forward, Jake perched the trailer to wait on the edge of the bank while we would load the truck & plan how to combat the swift & powerful current in order to get the Sundowner onto the trailer.

Jake's exhaustion advertised itself on his face, showing me fatigue had claimed him as well.  After our reunion kiss & hug, Jake credited his delay to the bossy Germans that shared the shuttle with him & a friendly Swiss couple.  The Germans evidently mistook the canoe shuttle service for a chauffeur service when they so rudely commanded the shuttle driver to "Halt," making the other shuttle passengers & driver wait while they dropped in on & visited with a friend.  A second unscheduled stop at the Braeburn Lodge had also prolonged Jake's return from Whitehorse while the Swiss & German couples savored the famous, oversized cinnamon buns that nicknamed the Braeburn Airport as the Cinnamon Bun Airstrip.

Braeburn Lodge, photo by James Brooks

Braeburn Airstrip, photo by Luigi Zanasi, Wikimedia Commons Contributer

Before loading up, I started to share my vexing encounter of the ill-intentioned, pushy girl & her two creepy accomplices.  Because I was pleased with my performance, I presumed Jake would be also.  I expected showers of praise on how I handled this or that but was instead rebuked: "I knew it!  I told you!  ...That is exactly what I feared by letting you stay here alone....  Do you know how bad this could've been?!..."

"But Jake, nothing happened!" I would counter again & again after each chiding interruption.  The fact that nothing happened didn't seem to make a difference to him.  It was the could-haves that stoked Jake's temper (and still does years later).  

We will never see eye-to-eye on the decision made to our dilemma in Carmacks.  Jake will always regret letting me stay behind alone with the Sundowner because of the--in his mind--almost atrocious ending to our Yukon River Trip, and I will forever rejoice not fetching the Expedition & trailer all alone from Whitehorse, which excused me from facing the concocted possibilities of Worst-Case Scenario Girl.

COMING SOON: 
Click here to continue by reading "Departing from Carmacks & the Yukon River:  Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip."




A Worst-Case Scenario in Carmacks: Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip


...continued from "Jake's Fear Becomes a Reality during His Absence from Carkmacks:  Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip"

Even though Jake was miles and hours away, I heard his voice clearly weave through the chaos in my brain:  This is why I didn't want you to stay in Carmacks…alone.  The tone wasn't I-told-you-so; it was more of a sincerely, concerned why-didn't-you-listen-to-me?

Why didn't I listen to him? 

Well, I made this bed….so, I countered her proposal:  "If your friends want to meet me, they'll have to come over here."  I hoped I wouldn't soon regret my recommendation.  My suspicious agitation surged into consternation as I waited for her reply.

"They over there," she said, pointing again to the truck that had magically materialized into my world just moments ago.  This time I looked over at the halfway hidden truck.  My peripheral vision had not deceived me; two males sat in the truck. 

She interrupted my brain trying to discern the situation:  "Just for a minute.  They just over there." 


Pulling up to the red structure with the power lines, the gray pickup nestled between the Carmacks bridge & the brush just off the circle drive, providing them with a clear view of me and allowing me to see into the cab of the truck (after their presence was brought to my attention).

Something's not right (no, I didn't just then draw that conclusion…fraudulent motivations inched toward obvious from the moment I detected this girl).  Something within the obvious creeped me out and caused alarm to claw up my back and scratch its jagged nails up my neck.  This girl wasn't the source of my fear.  So, what was?  The two guys…in the truck….?  My intuition told me I was fine as long as I stayed on the Sundowner.  So…what was causing panic to fester within me? 

Finally, it clicked:  not once since my "discovery" of the two men in the truck--not once--had I seen either of them look my way.  They both just sat in that truck staring straight across the Yukon River.  Why?  They sat there waiting…waiting without wanting to clearly be seen by me.  It was as though they were anticipating a cue…my arrival to their truck perhaps?   A signal from the girl?  From someone else?  Oh God, no--not someone else!  My consternation snapped into fearful exasperation, and my eyes frantically scanned splotches of brush, the nearby bank, far-off tree lines, the distant boardwalk….   

Am I reading too much into this situation?  Or is Worst-Case-Scenario Girl having a heyday because she's missing the threats of daily life on the river?  Maybe I'm being too cautious….

The girl broke into my paranoid rationalizations and tried one last appeal:  "Come.  Meet my friends.  You will see boat from over there," she pressed.  "It's not far.  You still see boat over there." 

And that's what did it--she was offering me a solution to a problem I hadn't voiced.  I quickly drew three possible conclusions about this girl:  she was  1.) smarter than I had realized or  2.) coached well by someone that was taking advantage of her or  3.) the best damn actress I had ever encountered in person.  The skeptic in me highly doubted the latter.  Regardless of which conclusion was closest to the truth, I was done fooling around with the girl and her probable accomplices--no matter how many waited out of sight until a sign was given to move in and carry out their scheme.

Going for something stronger than my previous "subliminal emphasis," I moved to the side & peered into the cabin--as though to assess my unfinished work--knowing her curious, wandering eyes would fall upon the 12 gauge shotgun that was strapped to the center pole of the Sundowner's cabin.  With my hands on my hips, I swung back around, my KA-BAR Kukri Machete flared and flapped more dramatically than before.  "Well, it's time for me to get back to packing up this boat." 


My KA-BAR Kukri Machete

I'm guessing she saw the shotgun, for her presence soon drifted into a memory.  I wasn't trying to threaten her, only trying to plant the idea of the possibility that I could be trouble to her and others if they pushed me too far.  I don't feel that I angered or insulted her…probably just disappointed her--no matter what the real story was. 

True to my word, I got back to work and accomplished Goal #3 by making sure each item that accompanied us on the Sundowner was packed in a logical & memorable place.  Tackling Goal #4 pushed me physically after an already long day…week…month.  Nonetheless, I balanced back and forth between the deck and the boat ramp on our makeshift ramp (part of a tree stand ladder that we used to access the roof of our boat).  I hauled what I could off the boat and grouped items in anticipation of Jake's arrival.
 

After my time-for-work declaration to the girl, I can't recall if any more words were exchanged between us.  I also don't remember her walking off or the truck with the two males driving away (which still puzzles me--how did they get in and out of there without me hearing or seeing them?).  I just know I looked up from my work at one point, and they were gone.  In retrospect, what do I really believe could have happened had I gotten off the Sundowner?  I'm not thinking worst-case scenario like I did during the ordeal (and I believe most would do so in a similar potentially threatening situation).  Rarely does a predicament escalate into a worst-case scenario.  For survival's sake, I had to explore and assume the unimaginable to build a strong defense and eventually offense. 
 

However, hindsight leads me to believe that once I climbed off the Sundowner and trotted over to meet the "friends" in the creepy gray truck, others (unbeknownst to me) would have popped out of their hiding places to grab what they could before I came charging back with my kukri high above my head promising bloodshed if my gear wasn't returned (that is to say if I would have caught up with any of them).  A little more serious possibility could have led to a stolen boat; I shudder to even describe that picture.  Worst-case scenario?  To my knowledge, it didn't come close to that, so I'm not going to go there. 
 

I'm choosing to reflect on this memory as a learning experience with the following lessons:  1.) Being caught off guard always comes after letting your guard down.  2.) In future situations that I perceive as potentially dangerous, I only need to say "no" once.  If my requests/denials are not respected, I will not feel obligated to stay polite.  How I am perceived and how I make the opposing force feel no longer matters once I feel my safety is being jeopardized.  3.) Acknowledge your suspicions and intuitions, yet keep your paranoia in check so that you can think and act rationally to appear in control of yourself and the outcome of the threatening situation.  4.)  Maybe my perception of the situation was entirely wrong.  Maybe the two guys in the truck just wanted to ask about my Yukon River Trip, and they were just too shy to strike up the conversation.  Maybe…I doubt it, but…maybe.

 



Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Still in Carmacks: Day 17 of the Yukon River Trip


Drying out The Sundowner on the Yukon River in Carmacks

Technically, we're still on the Yukon River, though we are tied to a tree at a public boat launch in Carmacks.  The .7 miles it takes to walk to town is a welcome to our legs that have seemed unused since we left our home in Indiana almost four weeks ago.  We take turns going into town for supplies or to explore while the other stays with the boat.  We were told not to leave our boat unattended (not that we would have anyway).  The locals are welcoming; it is nice to be around people again.
 

The rain has been on & off with brief visits from the warming sun.  So, it's been a constant battle to dry out our boat and gear.  When we think the soaking rain is almost at an end, it returns to drench us again.  We've been told that it's unseasonable wet this year in Carmacks…what, with 12 straight days of rain--ugh.  We were blessed not to encounter much rain while we were traveling the last 202 miles of the Yukon River (besides the last 65 miles), and I am grateful for that. 

I'm not sure if word has gotten around or if people are just happy the rain has let up, but we are most certainly peaking the interest of the citizens of Carmacks and the Little Salmon/Carmacks First Nation people, who reside across the river from us.  You would think a band of traveling players had arrived in town by the way they slowly drive around the circle drive…sometimes more than once.  Others put their vehicles in park and just stare at us.  And still others get out and talk with us about our journey down the Yukon River.  The village of Carmacks is used to seeing all sorts of paddlers, but I dare to say there's probably not been a pair quite like us with our camouflaged cabin donning the Nurpu skull and crossbones.  Actually, our visitors are providing us with our own sort of entertainment.  We've never seen so much rubber-necking in one spot.  We just hope that it's only curiosity that brings on the long stares.

Tonight is our last night on the Yukon River.  I am thankful we've been able to spend a few days on the river here in Carmacks once we finished paddling.  Carmacks is so quaint and friendly, and I know it will be hard tomorrow to say goodbye not only to the Yukon River but also to the sweet village of Carmacks.  

How will we spend our last night on the Yukon River?  Besides warming our feet by the fire, I'm guessing we've got gold panning & fishing on this evening's agenda.  


Point6 Spoiled Us with the Best Socks on the Planet






Friday, June 24, 2011

Our YRT Boat Finally Has a Name: The Sundowner.


Jake Putting Her Name On



I ended up taking over on this strip of vinyl while Jake started another one.  It was actually fun...a little difficult with the wood grain.



We ended up beating the rain!





p.s. Yes, I know that a previous post has the name Sundowner in the title.  Actually during that maiden voyage, we had a completely different name for our boat.  
So, I later went back and revised that post once Sundowner became official.