Just had a little reminiscing session with my neighbor Egor today at his shack, when I went to check out my hunting shack. He used to own a Grumman Sport canoe. His late BIL Dick and I were using his canoe to jump shoot a small river. We were having a wonderful time. We came to some white water and Old Dick said we have to portage around this area and looking up the banks I was thinking, is he nuts! I told him to let me get a closer look(Dick was in the stern) and seeing the white water was only about 100 yards through and moving well I gave a hard stroke and down we went. It wasn't going to well, and when I could, I glanced back to see Old Dick hugging his 1100 Rem to his chest. I hollered at him to grab his paddle and help! All he could say was, "No way am I going to loose this shotgun! I worker to many overtime shifts to loose it".
When we got through I had a short stick left, nothing resembling a paddle!
No way did I think my old friend would react that way!
Then he said, Egor(his BIL) had ordered some touch-up paint to fix a scratch on this canoe. When we flipped it over onto the car rack there wasn't hardly any paint left on the bottom, so I told him he better tell Egor to order more paint! ( I offered to pay)
The next time Egor took the canoe out hunting (2 weeks later) he flipped it, and sold it the next week!