For John's birthday this year, we decided to take our canoe out on an overnight camping trip, for the first time ever.  It had been our goal to do so for a long time, ever since we received the canoe for Christmas last year, but we just couldn't find the right time to do it.

To prepare for something like this, we packed as though we were going backpacking; even though we didn't have to carry our backpacks on our backs, we still had to be concerned about how much they weighed, because we certainly didn't want to capsize!  We also packed a small ice chest - a Styrofoam ice chest that we had purchased at Circle K.  The ice chest would contain a few luxury items that we normally didn't take along with us when backpacking: a six-pack of sodas, juice boxes for Mary, and yes, even some wine for happy hour.

On Saturday, September 27, we loaded the backpacks, the ice chest and two tarps, as well as the paddles and the life vests, into the back of the 4Runner.  Then, we strapped the canoe, upside down, onto the top of the truck.  That was a two-person job; it took two of us to hoist that seventeen-foot canoe onto the roof of the vehicle!  Once everything was loaded and ready to go, we all piled into the 4Runner to head out.

Our destination was Blue Ridge Reservoir, where, ten years ago, John and I learned "Lesson #2: Sunscreen".  It was one of the lakes we had paddled in Bill and Erika's old red canoe.  (Their canoe was tragically destroyed when their neighbor's house burned down a couple of years ago; the canoe had been propped up on the brick wall between the two properties and melted in the heat.)  Although we didn't remember seeing any campsites when we were there ten years ago, we had heard (from one of my co-workers) that there were plenty of places to camp along the lake.  John confirmed this by checking out the topographical maps; using those maps, he was able to plan out our route on the lake ahead of time.

To get to Blue Ridge, we left the house at 8:00 a.m. and took the Beeline Highway (SR 87) to Payson.  Along the way, we stopped at the Target in Fountain Hills, where we purchased wine and a new set of plastic wine glasses, that were advertised as being "unbreakable".  (I think we saw that as a challenge.)  We also stopped in Payson to use the facilities and to get snacks for the rest of the journey.  From Payson, we then continued north on SR 87, through Pine and Strawberry, to the top of the Mogollon Rim.  After that, it was another nineteen miles to Clint's Well and another ten miles beyond that to FR 751 - the turnoff for Blue Ridge Reservoir.

Blue Ridge Reservoir is located 4.5 miles in on FR 751.  Along the road, there is a small parking area with pit toilets, on a cliff about twenty feet above the lake; below that, there is a boat ramp, where we could launch our boat.  John backed the 4Runner down the down the boat ramp and dropped off the canoe and the backpacks; then, he drove up the road to park the 4Runner, while Mary and I loaded the canoe with our gear.  As soon as he returned, we were ready to shove off.

Launching a full canoe took some effort.  It was so heavy that getting it out onto the deeper water took both of us to accomplish.  After that, all three of us had to work hard to ensure that we didn't capsize the canoe.  John and I had to kneel on our flotation devices, because it was better to stay lower in the boat to maintain balance.  That was fine at first, but it became very uncomfortable after a while.  Mary was allowed to stay on her seat, but she had to sit on the exact middle of her bench, and she had to keep from squirming.  Any parent will tell you that it is next to impossible to get an eight year-old to sit still for that long.  She did very well for the most part, but every once in a while, she shifted her weight and the canoe would rock hard!  We weren't in any danger of tipping over, but it was certainly uncomfortable for that split second!

Our plan that day was to paddle into the eastern arm of Blue Ridge Reservoir, to the first available and accessible campsite.  Blue Ridge Reservoir, which was created by damming East Clear Creek, is shaped like a horseshoe. The western arm runs through East Clear Creek Canyon, while the eastern arm flows past the dam and into General Springs Canyon; this arm is fed by several creeks, including Houston Creek (which, of course, flows along the Houston Brothers Trail).  At the very end of the eastern arm is Bear Canyon, which we had reached during our first trip onto the lake so many years ago.  We weren't going to paddle in that far - not with a boat full of gear on our first overnighter - but if there was time later in the day, we hoped to explore down that way.

Just past the dam, we found a small campsite, high up on a ledge.  We beached the canoe so that John could hop out and inspect it.  He reported that it wasn't bad but that it was a bit of a climb to reach it.  He suggested that we keep going to see what else we could find, but we would keep that one in mind just in case.

Around the next bend, we encountered another campsite - in fact, it was the most ideal campsite in the whole canyon.  There was a perfect beach for parking the canoe, and there was a very large campsite up on a low ledge.  Unfortunately, that campsite was taken; I guess we should have expected that!

We kept going and soon came to a large, narrow rock wall, jutting out onto the lake.  The wall looked familiar; in fact, it was the same wall that John had climbed all those years ago.  We paddled around it; and, on the other side of it, across the lake, we found another campsite.  Although it wasn't as nice as the last site (the one that was taken) - and there were fishermen anchored nearby - we decided to claim it.

After we beached the canoe, we unloaded our gear and lugged it up the hill, to the campsite.  That was when we discovered that there were four people - two men and two women - picnicking up there.  We started to leave, but they insisted that they weren't going to be there long, so we were welcome to pitch our tents.

On this particular camping trip, John decided to try a little experiment.  Our two-person backcountry tent, which we had received for Christmas last year, came with a dome-style rain-fly that could be pitched like a tent, even without the tent underneath it.  We just had to put down the tent's footprint first.  Although the rain fly didn't quite reach the ground (there was a two inch gap), it did create more room; all three of us were able to crawl inside and sit comfortably.

And it was a good thing, too, because it started raining.  It was a very light rain - more like a light mist - and it didn't last very long.  Once it was over, we crawled out of the tent and finished setting everything up.

After lunch, we played.  We tossed around our Frisbee; we did some science experiments with Mary's science kit; and we explored the hill behind us.  Later, John took the canoe out by himself and went as far as he could; he was gone about an hour.  When he returned, we had a little bit of wine (not a lot) and enjoyed the cool afternoon.

It rained off and on all afternoon.  Sometimes, the rain was nothing more than a light, cool mist - so light that we didn't even need our jackets.  Other times, the rain fell heavily enough that it forced us back into the tent again.  While sitting in the tent, we discovered that our rain-fly-only set-up was not particularly effective against the elements, because there was a lot of mud coming in from the bottom of the tent.  Of course, we weren't expecting rain that weekend either...

Once the rain let up - again - John and Mary decided to take the canoe out for a spin on the lake.  They were particularly interested in climbing to the top of the rock wall across the lake from us.  Like her father, Mary is quite the rock-climber and never misses an opportunity to scramble to top of a boulder.

They paddled to the other side of the lake and beached the canoe at the base of the rock wall.  Mary climbed out first and stepped onto a large rock; then, John followed and tied the canoe up nearby.  Once that was done, the two of them started climbing, up to the top of the wall - an easy climb for them, of course. 

While they played around on top of the rock wall, I decided to get a fire going in the fire ring.  It was only 4:30 p.m., but it was already getting nippy out there on the lake, and it was only going to get colder as the sun went down.

When I retrieved the lighter from the silverware bag, which was hanging from a tree branch, I found that the bag and all of its contents were completely soaked.  No big deal for the utensils, but bad for the lighter.  I tried to light it, but to no avail.  So, I went for the matches, which were packed away in the cookware.  Unfortunately, the cookware had also been sitting out in the rain, and the matches were soaked through as well.  "Okay, this is bad," I said to myself; and with that, I began searching the backpacks for another lighter.

I came up empty-handed; we didn't have anything at all with which to start a fire.  That meant two things: 1) no campfire, and 2) no dinner.

When John and Mary returned, I reported to them what had happened, and I gave John the wet lighter to see if he could get it to work.  He tried everything to get that lighter to work, but in the end, he only managed to break it completely.

"Well," he said, "we're boned!"

We had two options at that point: we could either stay there and tough it out without dinner or a campfire; or, we could pack it up and paddle back to the boat ramp before it got too dark outside.  We hemmed and hawed for a few minutes, trying to weigh out those options; but it wasn't until it started raining - again - that we decided to call it quits.

We packed up our campsite in record time and dragged everything down to the canoe.  Once the boat was loaded, we climbed in and started paddling like mad, in hopes that we could make it back before dark.

The trip across the lake, to the boat ramp, was probably one of the most frightening stunts we had ever done.  Not only did it rain on us the whole time, but we were also paddling into a bitterly cold wind.  My hands were so cold that I could barely hold onto my paddle; and Mary was so cold that she could barely sit still.  We paddled so furiously to try to fight the wind that our arms were hurting, and yet we still had to keep going. 

Whenever possible, we tried to paddle close to the walls of the canyon, in hopes of using those walls as a wind break.  Doing so only put us in more danger, because there lots of downed logs floating on top of the lake.  Before the sun set completely, we could still see these logs and avoid them; but the darker it got, the harder it was to see them.  We were forced to slow down as we passed through those log jams, to avoid completely destroying our canoe on them.

By the time we made it to the dam, we were completely exhausted, and it was almost completely dark outside.  If not for the lights of a vehicle passing by on Forest Road 751, we would have had no idea where we were.  As we approached the boat ramp, we were in complete darkness, and it was an eerie feeling to be out on the lake like that.  But we were in luck, because there was a family on the shore, about a hundred yards from the boat ramp, and they had a lantern!  They helped light the way for us...

...And yet, we still missed the boat ramp completely!

We didn't miss the boat ramp by much - just by a few feet.  I saw the boat ramp at the last minute, while John was steering us away from it.  I pointed it out to him right away, so we backed up and tried again to beach the canoe.

As much as I love to canoe, I don't think I have ever been happier to have my feet on dry land!  I probably could have kissed the ground as soon as I stepped out of the boat, if I could have seen the ground in the dark!  It was completely pitch dark at that point; so it was a good thing that we had a lantern to light our way back to the 4Runner.

While canoeing in the dark was hard enough, backing the 4Runner down the boat ramp in the dark was just as challenging.  I had to step out of the 4Runner and guide John down the hill, to keep him from accidentally driving over the edge and into the lake.  Once we safely reached the bottom, we loaded up the gear and the canoe as quickly as we could.  Then, with everything secure, we drove away from Blue Ridge Reservoir...

We were exhausted and hungry when we left the lake.  We snacked on granola bars, but they didn't do much to hold us before we could get to Pine for dinner at Sidewinder's.  By the time we reached Pine, though, we were so beat that we decided to skip Sidewinder's; instead, we bought a couple of personal pizzas from the Texaco station, across from the Mormon church, and ate those on the way home.  Convenience store pizzas never tasted so good...

It was nearly 10:00 p.m. when we arrived at home.  Leaving all of our gear in the 4Runner, we dragged ourselves into the house and immediately went to bed...

So our first attempt at canoe-camping didn't go so well.  Once again, we learned a valuable lesson on Blue Ridge Reservoir.  I call this Lesson #1,951: Always Bring More Than One Firestarter!

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