Solitude is underrated. I spent my fifth semester of college in virtual solitude at a school where I knew no one. I lived with a family out in the country, but they were out of town half the time. For work, I cleaned a lumber mill at night, by myself. There were times when my girlfriend would call me and it was weird for me to hear the sound of my own voice. Sound lonely? Well, yes. But it was peaceful. It gave me time to read and think and listen to the radio. Learning to be comfortable alone is a useful skill.
This past summer I decided it would be nice to enjoy some solitude, so I planned a river trip and loaded my wife and two boys in the car so that we could all be alone together.
The West Branch of the Susquehanna River in northern Pennsylvania cuts through some of the most isolated country in the state. One twenty-two mile stretch in particular is not accessible by any road. That’s where we went. We shoved our kayaks into the water around noon on Thursday, and watched our last connection to anyone else for a while recede behind us. For the next twenty-two miles we were more or less on our own. Cell service would go more than come, so it was a bad time to start wondering if I left the garage door open. Eleven miles later we made camp on the bank of the river. We swam. We cooked dinner over an open fire. We drank camp coffee out of an aluminum mess kit bowl because I forgot my cup. My family retired to the tent as dusk was falling. I stayed by the fire and read for a while. Then I sat in the dark and thought about how it would suck to be attacked by a bear. Then I wondered if I should have brought my family, or if I should have come alone. I decided it was better for the family to be there with me, because when that bear came to get us my wife could surely talk him out of eating us. She would make him feel horrible about not being properly prepared or stealthy enough to even think about carrying out a bear attack at all. Eventually the bear would apologize to her and we would all pass around the ceremonial coffee bowl while my kids lulled him to sleep with stories of watching people play video games on YouTube. No longer worried about a bear attack, I went to bed.
The next morning dawned with only the sounds of nature. We cooked breakfast and had another bowl of coffee before continuing down the river. When eventually we saw another person (at mile 21 of the 22 mile trip), I was kind of disappointed. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of being alone and self-reliant. In an age of almost constant connectedness, it is refreshing to be able to cut the ties that bind us to everyone else and feel like Daniel Boone, if even for a little while. It’s nature’s reset button.
By the way, if you are wondering about the paddling limit for an eight-year-old boy…… It’s almost exactly twenty miles. For the last two, you will have to tow him while he constantly asks “How much farther?”
If you would like to take this trip, the folks at McCrackens Canoe can provide you with a shuttle, boats, information, and all types of gear.
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