The last couple of miles into Hancock were uneventful and the weather was surprisingly not awful. We spent the morning dodging the odd boulder and comparing our favorite fishing cabins while trying not to piss off the numerous geese nesting along the banks. The most interesting thing we saw all morning was a goose perched on top of a lightning-struck tree that had been stripped of its branches; we had no idea how it managed to land there, and we have no idea if it ever made it down.
Latoya, Steve’s faithful FourRunner base camp, was waiting in the parking lot, so we stashed the boat and drove ourselves into town to hang out at the library until Steve’s parents showed up.
Few things are more awkward than trying to make a good impression on your paddling partner’s parents when you’ve been marinating unwashed and unshowered in the same outfit for two weeks on the river. Yes, total strangers who I would very much prefer to have like me, please hug me in a public library while I frantically apologize for the stank of swamp water filling your nostrils. Lucky for me, these people raised Steve and weren’t super fazed by our filthy heathen status. Even luckier, they FED US before driving Latoya back to safety in upstate New York. I’m not sure how they feel about me, but anyone who treats me to a beer and a burger is fabulous in my book.
Watching Latoya pull away was bittersweet. We no longer had our “mobile basecamp” to rely on and were well and truly on our own, which greatly narrowed our margin for error as we continued downriver. Since we’re idiots, that just made everything even more exciting.
Lacking anything more productive to do, we hiked back into town to replenish our liquor supply. The proprietor was kind enough not to judge us as we dumped the contents of a large glass bottle of whiskey into a series of smaller plastic bottles (safety third!) and trotted back down the road with a six pack of Busch tall boys in a paper bag.
Nothing says “professional river rats” like getting tanked on cheap beer at a boat launch on a chilly spring evening in celebration of the fact that you are officially untethered to the real world.