Following a week of warm rain, the river was rippin. They shot the 3 foot hydraulic formed by the old bridge abutments, having to paddle hard right to keep from washing into the brush on the left shore. Noting the speed of the current, Hal estimated the trip would last about fifteen minutes, whereupon Scooter spun in the bow seat to face Hal. Snapping open a beverage and handing one over, the two discussed their plans for the Saint John in summer, and the Northern Forest Canoe Trail in the year 2000.

As they drifted, ice shelves began to appear on both sides of the river, increasing in thickness as the open water decreased. Over Scooter's shoulder, Hal could see the sky becoming pink as the sun deserted them behind the frozen hills of the Ware River Valley. A puff of steam escaped Hal's lips as as he said "Psst! Scooter! Look at the beavers over there." Scooter turned, and sure enough, five full grown beavers were trolling up and down the river. As they watched, one stood on his hind legs and began gnawing the bark off a fallen tree. Sensing their brazen attitudes, Hal spoke out loud "Howdy boys!" which was ignored by the bucktoothed barkeaters. "Haw!" said Hal. "Haw!" said Scooter.

As the day waned, the near full moon rose in the east, lending light, and the first shadows the two had seen in a week. Progress was considerably slowed when they encountered a shelf of ice spanning the river. They squared off and paddled straight at the ice shelf. The bow slid easily onto the ice. The ice, having been thawing for a week, was thick right to the edge. Hal stuck one foot out while Scooter gripped the gunwales. Hearing no cracking, he stepped out with both feet, being careful to keep his weight centered over the canoe, in case of ice collapse. He shifted and gave the boat tug. It easily slid forward a few feet. A couple more tugs and Scooter was out on the ice, joining Hal. At the far edge of the ice, they reversed the process, and found that one person paddling could move the canoe on or off the ice. They had to repeat this procedure four more times before the trip was over.

By the time they were done, it was fully dark, except for the moonlight. They had discovered that by paddling at full speed, they could actually beach themselves about twenty feet onto the ice, where they could both get out. On the last patch of ice, in view of the take-out, they toasted their new adventure and vowed to bring a camera next time.

Ok, so how many safety rules did they break? Let's see: They didn't scout for ice blockage. They paddled in a group of one canoe. They drank plenty of beer at night in the middle of winter. They had no change of clothes or any other form of hypothermia treatment. They tried something new that could have had dire consequences. Indeed, at one ice shelf, they rammed it at full speed, only to hit a poorly seen chunk sticking up. Instead of riding up, the whole canoe turned hard to one side. Had they tipped, I'm sure the current would have been happy to pull them under the ice. Oh well, Scooter and Hal have advanced the art of tripping into the winter season. May you benefit from their foolishness.