They say the happiest 2 days in life are
the day you buy a boat and the day you sell that boat. Well, I was not
happy yesterday as I watched the boat pull away from the cabin on the back of
some other guy’s truck. In fact I felt a twinge of remorse for having to
sell it. All the hard work stripping the aluminum and the metal of the
trailer, laying down the primer coat and the painting of the custom camouflage with
my old pal Fred G. just driving away. The trials and tribulations of the
Hiawatha motor from which I learned to never buy a motor from the 1940’s.
The summertime trips on the river with my sweetie. And the days of terror
on pitch black mornings with a full load of gear heading out into the
unknown. And how about the time Clider, Peat and I battled fierce
winds and waves over the bow on Anderson
. Oh yes, the terror.
The two young guys that came to pick up
the boat told me they were planning to use it for fishing and I asked them to
at least try to shoot a duck or two from the boat someday. Then I grabbed
the title from the Communist I purchased it from, (Idaho requires no title so it was still from
the last owner) and noticed something odd. Yesterday was March 6, 2013. Clider and I went to buy the boat from the Commie on March 6, 2012. I was a boat owner for exactly one year. Coincidence? I
think not.
Motor on old boat of mine, motor on.
GBCH
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