THE CANOE TRIP
BY Ben Ezra Jacobson
ben_ezra_jacobson@yahoo.com
CANOEING ON UPPER FISH TRAP LAKE By Ben Ezra Jacobson Ben_ezra_jacobson@yahoo.com
This story is a reflection of my memories as a young guy of age 19 in Northern Wisconsin one summer when I went with 5 buddies to camp and fish on Upper Fish Trap Lake near Boulder Junction, Wisconsin. This story should be placed under the Nifty group called CAMPING...and I would welcome hearing from readers who liked the story or wanted additional information.
Chapter One Packing for Camp
We had spoken of taking a canoe trip for many months and the six of us planned out our vacation of two weeks with meticulous detail. We started out in east central Illinois where we all lived with in a short radius of one another and planned to drive to Boulder Junction, Wisconsin where our trip would start at Boulder Lake. Our first day of arrival was on a Friday afternoon and we set up camp at the Birchwood Camp grounds. The next morning we planned to paddle up the river and cross Boulder Lake which was a lengthy paddling from home base. Since we would be on the water for many days, going from one chain of lakes to another...we took all our supplies with us in seventeen foot, aluminum Grumman canoes... with extra paddles just in case we should break or loose one.
Birchwood lived up to it's name. The campground on this second day of June 1967 was very sparse. The owner, a jolly man named Lucas, told us that it was still a bit early for the seasoned travelers and a little cool at night. The day temps here had been very comfortable but the nights were going to be chilly. We had scoured the woods for fire wood to be cut up with our bow saws and had rigged a dinning fly over the metal picnic table next to our tents. We brought three light weight style tents called "voyagers" that had been especially designed for canoe travel and had set them up in a neat row before the picnic table so the openings all faced the campfire ring.
The mosquitoes and gnats in the north woods were extremely prolific as were the chipmunks. We found that mosquitoes and gnats rushed into our eyes, nose and mouths as soon as we stepped out of our tents...and the chipmunks were always on alert to find their way into our tents. We shook our sleeping bags and examined our back packs every night before crawling into our beds. The first day, it was obvious that we would need a lot of insect repellant to spray on our hands and faces and a large can of YARD GUARD every night to keep the flying insects out of our campsite.
Our first night in camp...we were almost too excited to sleep. I shared my tent with a boy named Fred...a happy and jolly kid who was always laughing. The second tent was occupied by two guys name Kenny and Tom, the third tent was occupied by Larry and Joe. We varied in age from me at 19, Tom at 18, Kenny at 17, Larry and Joe at 16 and Fred...our youngest member at 15. Despite our age variance... we all got along surprisingly well.
We had prepared our supper before sunset...the scouter's gourmet supper of grilled burgers and a large bag of potato chips, washed down with Coke and Sprite. An hour afterward, we made a pot of hot tea and cobbler in the dutch oven and settled in for a bit of chess under the tarp. A soft rain cooled the air very quickly...but the moisture did not dampen our excitement to start our canoeing expedition after sunrise.
By the time we crawled into our sleeping bags, the air in the tent was cold. Fred suggested that we zip our sleeping bags together for added warmth. We had read that sharing sleeping arrangements helped to keep both campers warm. Both of us with sweat pants and sweat shirts to sleep in, snuggled up to each other...laid our heads on our pillows and quickly went deeply to sleep.
Morning brought a nice sunrise. The river next to our camp was steamy. The water had retained much of it's warmth while the air cooled and the effect was a low fog like mist rising from the surface. By the time we had breakfast completed and our bags packed and loaded into the canoe...the foggy mist was beginning to lift. We had hustled to the showers to bathe because we knew it would be two weeks before we had the comfort of hot water again. Now in warm blue jeans, flannel shirts under a bulky sweatshirt, caps and shoes...we cast off for Boulder Lake. The water rippled under our canoes along the main seam as we paddled against a light current. A mystery about paddling against a light current is that the waves tend to make the canoe ride higher in the water than when paddling with the current...which allows the canoe to sit deeper in the water. Our speed was increased by riding higher...and although we were crossing the lake right down through the middle...it did not seem like any time at all until we landed on Boulder Island to stretch our legs and to shoot some film.
Most of the islands in this part of the woods are set up for camping...which makes perfect sense. Even if a camp fire gets out of control...the burn is only going to go as far as the water. Fortunately this attractive island had exhibited no signs of ever having had a renegade fire. The center had a promontory surrounded by pines and balsams. The latter was densely populated and the smell of evergreen was ubiquitous. Pines and balsams always smell so clean.
As much as we wanted to spend more time on Boulder Island...we pushed our canoes back into the water and headed upstream. We passed a series of little cottages along the bank and some teenage boys yelled out to us, to come a shore and spend some time with them. One even offered to let us camp at their place...but our goal was to get farther upstream by the end of the day. We paddled another couple of miles and came to a water fall. We went to the shore and got out on to the land and walked up the hill to another lake. It was now time to portage around the cascade which took a short amount of time. At one point...it became necessary to go left or right...and we chose the right.
I was documenting out trip with movie film. We paddled farther to the east and our waterway got smaller and smaller...until we were scooting along on a channel that was barely a foot deep...when we suddenly came out at the mouth of a new lake. There were no cabins along the side...and no one was to be seen anywhere on the water or the land around. The day was clicking away at a tremendous pace. We had eaten some sandwiches at the cascade and now we were into the middle of the afternoon. Another island loomed ahead and we paddled to it and found that it was set up for camping as Boulder Island had been. A plaque mounted on a post said that the island was named Nixon Lake Island and there was a posting of what campers could and could not do. Swimming was not allowed. We set up camp in the clearing and as soon as it was dark...after we had fixed a camp supper...we all stripped out of our clothing and went into the water to swim...all of us, buck-ass naked. The water was cold and swimming was not a pleasant experience...but it did allow us to wash off the sweat from paddling, the dingle berries from sitting, and cool our bodies from the Wisconsin sun that beat down upon us in the aluminum canoes.
My tent partner and I zipped our sleeping bags together again...but this time...we did not put on our clothing. We decided to see if two naked bodies lying side by side was warmer than were to clothed bodies lying side beside. Fred was laying on his right side, backed up to me...and I had my arm over him and rested it against his chest. He made no protestations. I moved my hand down a bit against his flat stomach and still he made no sound what so ever. After a few minutes, once again, I moved my hand lower to his groin line and felt pubic hair against my little finger. His breathing had suddenly started to rise and as I move another inch lower felt the back of my hand bump up against his fully engorged penis. Still he said not a word. I slid my hand around his shaft. As I did so, he scooted closer to me. My dick was now pressed against his ass. He reached around and repositioned it against his sphincter...then pushed harder against me. My dick slipped into the opening and as he pushed against me...my dick went deep inside until his buttocks were against my groin.
"How is it that I slipped in as deep as it would go," I asked him as I patted his cock..?
"I lubed up while you were outside taking a piss," he replied. "I did not know if things would come to this...but I hoped that it would."
"We never talked about this sort of thing," I responded, " I just thought that you might be interested in some fun."
"I saw you and your friend Steve beating off together on the canoe trip last month on the River Trip...and I wanted to be part of it. When we flipped the dice to see who would be our tent partner...I was excited when you drew my name, " Responded Fred. "All the guys wanted you for a canoe partner...but I got you...and now you have me." And with that he thrust his glutes back against me plunging my dick deeper with in him.
Very little was said between us for the next fifteen or twenty minutes...as I fondled his hardware and he thrust back against me. I pulled out as far as my dick head goes and plunged again against him. The sensation was exciting for both of us. His breathing was getting heavier...as his dick in my left hand got harder. It was obvious that he was only seconds away from ejaculating...and as I increased my thrusts into his canal...he pushed back against me one more time and exploded into the towel that he had conveniently layed in front of him. I shot my load deep inside of him a few seconds after wards and then we just lay there for a few minutes to recover. Fred had thought of everything...he had a wet cloth in a plastic bag and cleaned himself up with in the tent.
" If I go outside now...the others will know what we have been up to," he said...so I will wait until later...when I am sure they are all asleep."
I was sound asleep when he crawled out of his sleeping bag and slipped into his sweat suit and went out. When he returned...he brought the cold air with him...and when he climbed back into the sleeping bag...his skin was cold. He took his wet cloth which he had rinsed out in the cold water of Nixon Lake and proceeded to wash my cock...which started getting hard again with the attention he was giving it. When he was satisfied that it was clean, he dried it with another towel...and then scooted down into the sleeping bag...where I felt his lips going down on my shaft. I laughed a bit and tried to push his head back lest he get a mouth full...but he was determined to make that happen...and once again after about two hours from the last encounter...I shot a load into his mouth..which he then spit into a waiting towel. After wards...he kissed me on the side of my cheek and lay down...soon to be lightly snoring...in complete satisfaction. I was left to clean myself up with a large red bandana that I had worn around my neck...that day...in the canoe.
The next morning, as we sat around the camp fire eating our breakfast, one of the guys said, "We did not hear any moaning nor screaming coming from your tent last night...you two must have been completely worn out." Everyone sniggered...but Fred and I just looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders.
"I do not remember my head hardly hitting the pillow," he said. " Did anything happen while we were asleep?"
"Better believe it," said Larry, "I got the best blow job of my life last night."
Joe only shrugged his shoulders...and grinned. We knew he had had a good time as well.
After packing up, we reloaded the canoes and back tracked to the left creek...which according to our map would take us to Lower and Upper Fish Trap Lakes. We realized that we were quite a bit south and east of where we wanted to go...but the trip on the various channels did not seem so long at all. We had plenty of sunshine for the day and as the blades of our paddles dipped into the clear blue water...we realized what a delight it was to be in the north woods and away from the hustle and bustle of city lights. We arrived on Upper Fish Trap lake in the middle of the afternoon and made our way to the two islands in the center of the lake. At one time they had been joined by a foot bridge but somewhere along the line... someone had set fire to the bridge...probably for a prank...and only the footings remained and a couple of logs running the horizontal distance between them.
Once again we set up our voyager tents around the fire ring but this time...we set them back a bit to be away from the sparks and smoke of the fire...and we also considered the need for more individual privacy. Fred had paddled the bow of my canoe all day in a pair of swim trunks and was badly sunburned. We helped apply a spray antiseptic to the burn...which he tolerated very well, but lying on his back was going to be an impossibility tonight for sure. He would not feel up to a repeat of last night's adventure. Tom and Kenny had got their fishing gear and gone to the remains of the foot bridge which now acted as a depository for the canoes turned upside down on the horizontal poles between the islands. We had chained the canoes together and then run the chain around the big tree next to the bridge and secured it with a lock.
The fishing was a bust but we had brought some canned chicken and chicken broth and later in the evening...had chicken and noodles and an assortment of canned veggies. For desert...some baking mix in a poach and some canned pie filling made another nice cobbler along with a large pot of hot tea. Fish Trap Island like Boulder Island and Nixon Island had had picnic tables placed for campers...and again the air turned cool at sundown...but the campfire and the hot tea and cobbler...made the evening very comfortable. Sweat shirts came out of our back packs and then windbreakers and ball caps as the evening progressed. We played cards and dominoes. Much to our surprise...we could even pull the local radio station on one of the transistor radios. It was nearly midnight when we called it quits. Fred had gone to bed a couple hours earlier complaining of his sunburn...and went promptly to sleep. This time, he did not connect our two sleeping bags. Joe and Larry soon followed as did Tom. Kenny and I sat by the fire and stared at the embers.
"We must not forget to take the canoe paddles into the tent tonight," he reminded me.
It is not likely that I would forget that as we had been warned that the beavers and sometimes the raccoons would gnaw at the handles to extract the salt solution absorbed in the wood. I gathered up the six paddles lying across the table to dry and placed them in the tent with the three spares. So far, if there had been any chewing animals...we were unaware of them.
Once again we returned to the fire and stared into it. I was not sleepy and Kenny seemed uninclined to call it a day. He would stare at the fire and look up at me.
"What," I said smiling.
"Oh, nothing...just not sleepy," he responded.
"Want to play another round of chess or dominoes?'
"No...maybe go for a short walk and look at the stars." he replied.
"Want some company," I asked...hoping that he did?
"Yes." he said, looking at me straight on...eye to eye contact.
He got up and wandered down the path to the old bridge without looking back...crawled over the canoes and walked the horizontal poles to the other island and started up the little hill. At the top of the hill, there was small clearing about the size of a 15 by 15 foot grassy spot with a few rocks jutting through the grasses. He sat down on the flat rock in the ground and leaned back against the larger rock form. I followed him to the rock and sat down next to him...shoulder to shoulder. We looked up at the sky to see the constellations. All around us were pines and balsams, and above us, a dark navy blue sky with billions of stars.
"Look at that," he said, "have you ever seen so many stars..?"
"In deed," I responded, "I have not."
"Fabulous," he said and turned to look and see if I was really paying attention.
When I pointed out a couple of obvious constellations, he was satisfied that I was paying attention...and continued to name first one constellation and then another.
"You really dig this scene, don't you," I stated..."I did not realize how much you knew about the subject."
I was deeply impressed with his knowledge.
"I do," he said, "it makes mankind seem so insignificant."
I turned to look at him. "I think you are significant, Kenny You know so much more about academics than any of the rest of us."
His smile faded, "I am not significant...I just know a little more about a lot of facts than less interested people do."
I repeated my statement, " You are significant to us. You are significant to me."
He looked at me...removed his glasses and kissed me on the side of the face, turned back to the sky and then leaned his head over, onto my shoulder. I put my arm around him. We sat there in that attitude for some time. Suddenly he shivered.
"You are cold...do you want to go back to camp?"
"No...I want to stay here with you."
I hugged him closer. He turned and kissed me on the lips and I returned the kiss several times.
"I wish you were sleeping in my tent tonight," he spoke. " I need you close tonight."
"We could build a fire here," I said.
"No, it will attract insects and eyes. Let's just stay here a little longer and then we will go back," he said.
"Is there anything I could do for you," I asked?
"Yes, hold me close."
He got up and moved between my legs in front of me and leaned back against me. The pressure of his body against me...gave me a hard on. He could feel it between us and leaned back a little harder. I reached under his arm and felt his groin. He too was in full erection. I fondled it and he made some sounds that showed me that he was enjoying being touched.
"Stand up," I said.
He rose to his feet and I turned him around...taking hold of his belt, unloosened it, unzipped his jeans and pulled them and his boxers down to his knees...popping his hard cock into my mouth. In less than two minutes, he groaned and ejaculated a big load into my mouth. I spit the residue out and watched him pull himself together.
He then threw his arms around me, giving me a big hug.
"Let me get you off now," he said.
"You don't have to," I replied, " I am just happy to be here for you when you needed me."
"I need to get you off," he answered back.
He dropped my pants and like him...it only took a little bit of oral attention to do the trick, except he pulled my cock out of his mouth and jacked it so he could see me shoot...and shoot I did...five or six big arching ejaculations. It felt really good.
We made our way back to camp and each of us made our way into our respective tents...waving a joyful...goodnight.
The next morning we paddle from Upper Fish Trap lake through a large culvert onto High Lake and paddled completely around the perimeter. There were no more chains of lakes connecting with High Lake and our option was only to return from whence we had come. Fish Trap Island was of fairly good size and so we decided to keep it as a base camp, and we would stay an additional day or two and try to get some fishing in. As out of state campers...we had to buy limited time fishing license. For most of us...it was an unprofitable adventure, but for two of our party...it proved successful. That day for lunch...we had fresh fish. The afternoon was spent in exploring. We paddle our canoes to shore and visited with some of the people who had rented cabins around the lake and by evening...returned to the island with a few supplies we had picked up at a little mom & pop store near the cabin community. We had never tried to make pizza in a Dutch oven before...but by placing some stones in the bottom of the Dutch oven to keep the pizza pan from scorching...we found that pizza can be cooked quite successfully on a camping trip.
After lunch...the sun was at it's best for a swim. We paddled to the east side of the lake where there was a sand beach but no trails. Here we beached the canoes, stripped off our jeans and shirts and waded into the deeper water. There is something really satisfying about being naked in cool water and not have the constriction of fabric between your legs.
"I just pissed in the water," said one of the guys.
"Don't worry about it," said another..."the fish do it all the time."
We all laughed. After some time, we climbed out of the water and lay in the warm sand and sunned ourselves. What was amazing to me was that although I am the oldest of the six of us...I was not the best hung. Several of my camp buddies had much bigger dicks than I did, some had more pubic hair, and some had lower hanging balls...but we all had the same characteristic in that we all enjoyed the sensation of Jacking off before one another to see who could cum more and produce the greatest sensations. Tom lay on his stomach in the sand and tried to make a sand angel. Before he could turn over and try it on his back, Larry jumped onto his back and pushed his dick into the crack of his ass and began to push. Tom rolled over and threw him into the sand. The tussle was on. In the end...no one had his "end" breached" but there was a lot of jabs and jives about being a "cock-sucker" and "a queer." None of our party was an "out gay" but all had had some exploratory fun with other boys...and none was embarrassed about being naked on the sand in front of the rest. I sat by my canoe and snapped a few discreet photos that would be rued later. After all, none of us would want our mom's to see us frolicking in the sand...buck ass naked.
The afternoon passed in a whirl. We went back into the water to wash off the sand, and then pulled our clothing back on to prepare to paddle the canoes back to the island. When we reached the frame work of the old foot bridge...two of the canoes were hoisted up...onto the framework, but I tied my canoe to a tree after pulling it half way up out of the water. I thought it would be fun to go for a canoe ride after dark as long as we remained with in sight of the island. This time, Larry was the one I wanted to join me for this little jaunt. When I walked over to him while supper was cooking and asked if he would be interested...he said that he would...as long as I did not tell anyone else that he had agreed.
Supper and clean up took about an hour and a half. The sun was setting and I shot more movie film of it going down. When the others had turned in...Larry and I put our paddles into my canoe, and pushed off. We paddled slowly and quietly around to the other side of the island. There were no trails there.
The back side of the island had a rocky peninsula that jutted out into the water. It was so very dark around on this side and some of the trees leaned out over the lake. The water was very calm...almost like a mill pond. We stopped paddling and just sat and listened to the sounds of the night. There was just a slight breeze that kept mosquitoes and insects away.
As we floated there with little effort...my canoe partner Tom leaned forward and said, "Have you ever had sex in a canoe?"
I smiled and responded, "not until now."
He grabbed both sides of the canoe side walls and walked down the main seam to the center and I did the same from the bow to the center. We lay down on the floor of the canoe and held each other in a long embrace... kissing and tickling our private areas. Both of us came to full mast almost immediately.
"Do you like to 69," he asked?
"I sure do," I replied, readjusting myself accordingly.
I put his dick into my mouth and he did likewise...and we sucked away, every once in awhile...running our tongues along the balls and beyond.
"get up on your hands and knees," he said, "and lean over the thwart."
I did so...as his tongue bathed my sphincter. From his pants pocket, he produced a small tube of lube and applied it generously and to his penis...and begin to insert and push. What I expected to hurt like hell... did not. In it slid as he moved in and out. My prostate reverberated with the intensity of the nerve endings being massaged.
"Let's trade places," he said...and I duplicated his exact movement...but he jerked a bit when I penetrated. Obviously, I was smaller than he was in that area...but my dick had caused some momentary discomfort which he over came quickly.
"Can you lay down on the floor of the canoe," I asked.
"I think I can," he said..."but there will not be room for you lay on top because of the canoe thwart."
"Right," I agreed..."can you lay on your side."
He did so and I lay behind him and re-inserted my dick into his ass. The motion of the canoe with me hunching from behind was almost like being in a hammock. I reached over him and took his dick in my hand...and in just a few strokes...he shot his wade over the side of the canoe wall. A couple more pumps and I filled him up with cum. We both just lay there afterward for what seemed like hours...too content to move...but alas we had to return to camp.
According to my watch...it was only 10:30 PM and no one seemed to be too concerned with our being gone. We tied up the canoe, wiped down the gunnels and went to our respective tents. Inside the tent, my canoe partner Fred rolled over and said, "Where you been?"
"Paddled around the island to see if I could see any night creatures," I replied.
"Oh," he responded, and rolled over and went back to sleep. The next morning...he did not remember having awakened nor having spoken to me. Just as well.