BUTT END
I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU SAY
GOODBYE, I SAY HELLO. PHOTO: KEVIN CALLAN
Saying Hello
The problem with ignoring others while traveling remote wilderness areas, besides being characterized as brash and unman- nerly, is that you never know if you’ll need help later. It was my father who taught me this. He always insisted I say hello, maybe even have a quick conversation with the people we met in the woods. My dad’s lesson echoed in my head as
things turned dire for an ill-fated group of three paddlers I encountered last October. White-capped waves were forming and the air temperature hovered just above freezing. Midway across the lake, the pad- dlers capsized and yelled for help. Their canoe was overloaded with lawn chairs and a beer cooler, their clothes and sleep- ing bags weren’t packed in waterproof bags. None of them wore lifejackets. Earlier that day, the trio drifted by my
canoeing partner and me as we sat, eating our lunch. They didn’t return my friend- ly gestures. I waved, said hi and asked how their trip was going. In return, they completely ignored me and continued on across the lake, not once looking back in my direction. I wrote them off as snobs who feel that shunning other paddlers in the backcountry is the next best thing to seeing no paddlers at all.
82 SPRING 2013
BECAUSE YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN YOU’LL NEED A FAVOR IN THE BACKCOUNTRY BY KEVIN CALLAN
My canoe buddy suggested we just snub
the nasty trio right back and continue on our way. And we did. Until we caught up to them, cursing as they frantically searched for the unmarked portage at the end of the lake. We had evil thoughts of misguiding
them to a false trail, but my conscience took over. I yelled out directions to the correct path. Barely acknowledging us, one paddler motioned back with a half- hearted wave. Another responded bitterly that they already knew the location of the portage. The third continued to disregard our very existence as if we were intrud-
through the bush into the lake, not from the portage access but from a totally dif- ferent direction. They didn’t heed our fork-in-the-trail advice, if they even both- ered to listen. Dad would’ve said that jus- tice had been served. That’s when the wind picked up and
sent them for a swim. Despite our misgiv- ings, my canoe mate and I did the right thing. We rescued the doomed group and brought them to shore to share our camp- fire and dry out. They were a tad sheepish around camp.
We finally shared a proper hello, discussed trip plans and I provided them with my
Barely acknowledging us, one paddler motioned back with a halfhearted wave.
ing on their experience. Had they been friendlier, they would have realized we were also trying to advise them of which fork to take midway down the trail. We left them to argue, portaged across
the unmarked trail and set up camp on the next lake. As we settled in, we were astounded to see the three paddlers crash
father’s advice. And so for the rest of the evening we sat in their lawn chairs and drank beer from their cooler. Kevin Callan knows how to say hello in
eight different languages. Snub him on a por- tage and watch his wave turn into a decidedly less friendly gesture.
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