During the course of our adventures a confusion occurred. Perhaps a miscommunication, a wrongly used word, a simple yet honest mistake! Who knows, but the result was a unique way to utilize ones canoe down the river. This should not be tried in whitewater and several cans of beer are recommended before hand. Personally, I prefer a hot, 80 degree, summer day to try this out.
This was our last day on the river and Hal, in his usual fashion was up early, the crack of dawn. In his bud soaked cranium he silently thanked Scooter for leaving him enough twigs to start the days fire. Soon the Almighty Coffee Pot, the third surviver of the flood, was cheerily perking away, happy to do its job. A while later Scooter lurched out of his tent, looked at Hal, coughed up half a lung and lunged for the coffee. The usual morning obscenities were exchanged, and soonly enough camp was broken and the boats were loaded.
Downstream somewhere the river gave way to a nice sandbar making the depth a mere two feet or so, enough so Hal and Scooter could break out their poles and play. In the course of their banter Scooter accused Hal of making him learn poling by standing on his gunwales and testing his balance in the middle of the river with a full load. Confronted with this Hal protested. "The gunwales?" Hal declared that he never said it, that he couldn't have said it and the whole idea was bordering on the insane. To prove his point Scooter did it.
With a foot planted on each gunwale above the yoke Scooter began poling downstream. Hal, not be outdone, tentativily began to try this obsure and demented way of traveling down the river. Putting one foot up on one gunwale he gingerly swung his other foot on the opposing gunwale and it began. Gunwale Dancing. Grabbing his pole and following Scooters lead Hal began making his way downstream. Twelve foot poles arced through the air and sliced through the water. Face splitting grins showed under the brims of hats. Other river dwellers stopped what they were doing and gawked at this duo, dancing to the rhythm in their heads. Canoeing purists would probably hurry to quell this aberration but for Hal and Scooter it was just another day!