Found it!! Reposting this story from The Cuk page.. Great memories. Still Our Hero One of the things you may not know about growing up as a Dolan Girl were some of our hilarious adventures in the wilderness. These photos were from a couple of those such adventures. Every summer, Mom and Dad and usually another couple with kids would plan a 2 week camping trip in the Adirondacks. (and when I say camping, I dont mean an RV, or showers.) These trips meant paddling your canoe all day down a river/lake, or carrying it on your shoulders over a carry, and then pitching your tent at night and building your campfire for dinner. It was roughing it in the truest sense, and Dad didnt baby us. We carried our own weight. We learned how to pitch a tent in a raging thunderstorm, and how to dig a trench around it to redirect water runoff. We certainly learned how to fight, if somebody accidently touched the inside of your tent and made it leak. We collected campfire wood, learned how to cook over fire, wash dishes in the river, tie packs of food in the trees to avoid the bears, and oh yea, take a freezing cold bath in the middle of nowhere. We learned how to live in the simplest ways, and we loved every minute of it. We bonded as a family, and we are still all tight-knit today. The absolute BEST part though was story-telling time around the campfire at night, Which, for those of you who knew Dad, would get pretty hilarious.. ESPECIALLY after hed had a few vodka and Tangs on those adventures.. Ahhh, yes, Orange Tang it was, because it was easy to pack. The one photo below is Dad on one knee, using the tent string to play The Devil went down to Georgia on his fiddle... We spent that entire trip singing that song as we paddled down either the Big Moose River or the Oswegatchie River. (I cant remember which.) That night was hysterical. The other 2 are from our younger days.. when Dad rescued us from wildlife that night.. He was our hero.. You see, THAT night we were sitting around the campfire and we heard this rustling coming through the woods,.. getting louder and louder.. We didnt know what it was, and neither did Dad. (Which REALLY made us nervous, after all Dad knew EVERYTHING about the woods and wildlife) Well, we soon found out. In no time at all, our little spot in the woods was overrun by a giant pack of rats! Yes,... rats. And when I say rats, Im not talking about the cute little field mice, Im talking about giant size rats! They were everywhere. Running around us, right through the campfire, through the tents, scratching their claws on the sides of overturned aluminum canoes where earlier we had utilized them as a table top to prepare dinner. They must have smelled something on them. The rats were hard to see, because it was pitch black, and of course, we were pretty freaked out by it. I think Kellys idea was to beat them to death with her club. Ha. Nice bell bottoms by the way Kelly. (And did you eat back then? youre so skinny!) Dad busted out with his pistol.... (And yes for all those against guns,.. I grew up with guns in my house. I was taught gun safety at an early age, as well as how to load, aim and fire. .. And look at that! Im not even a mass murderer.) Anyway, Dad started firing. Pistol in one hand, flashlight in the other. It was pitch black, but if he shined the flashlight just right it would catch their beady little eyes so he knew where to aim. He finally hit one, it shrieked and then just like that the entire pack left. We found out a week or two later that a town a little ways off had closed down their dump and this pack was probably foraging for a new food source.. (I guess). What a bizarre ordeal that was. Dad was our hero that night.. Our protector.. Dad, you will always be our hero, and I hope in some way you can still protect us from the heavens. We all love you and miss you. ~Kerry~
Posted on: Tue, 21 Oct 2014 01:41:19 +0000
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