Whitewater Connection - Cover

Whitewater Connection

Copyright© 2010 by John Darkscar

Chapter 1

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Two men on a whitewater canoe trip find some unexpected avdenture.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Slow  

"Too bad you fellows weren't here last trip, eh." said the conductor, in his thick French-Canadian accent.

"Why's that?" I asked.

"Well de last time we came tru here, we dropped two ladies and dere canoe and stuff off right here", he replied. "Dey said dey were gonna do de river just lak you."

"Is that so? How old were they? And this was day before yesterday?"

"Oui. Dey were about tirty or so. Bit younger dan you. Not bad lookin, eider dey was."

"Well that's cool- maybe we'll catch up to them." said my partner, Jeff. "It would be nice to have some company on the river."

The old conductor chuckled knowingly. "Be nice to have someting warm in de sleeping bag. De nights, dey can get chilly even in de summer, eh." He concluded this thought with an outrageous wink.

I had to laugh. "Well, yeah, but it's safer to travel in groups, too. We originally had two other guys lined up to come, but one broke his leg playing softball, and the other had a family emergency and had to beg off. It was too late to line up anyone else, and we'd planned too long to give this trip up. We'll just have to be extra careful out there. We do have a locator beacon in case of a dire emergency, but I'd hate to have to cough up the money for the rescue bill!", I said with a smile.

"Oui, dat's right. Tousands of dollars, eh."

"Yep. Well we're burning daylight- let's get this stuff unloaded and let the rest of the good folks on this train get going."

Working together, it only took the three of us a few minutes to unload our 17 foot Old Town ABS canoe and all our gear.

"You boys need help getting dis stuff down to de lake?"

"Nahh, but thanks a lot for offering. We need to get used to carrying it. We'll be doing a lot of it in the next couple of weeks", said Jeff.

"Well, OK. Look- you fellows be careful out dere! My grandaddy, he used to run down dat river when he was trapping de furs. He told me lots of stories about de rough water. Be 'specially careful 'bout de gorge about halfway down. De river, he drop tru lots of rapids and falls, and the sides of de gorge, dey nuthin' but cliffs in places and real steep in udders. You get in trouble dere and you might not make it out, no matter if you got de emegency beacon or not!"

"Yeah- that's the place we've worried lots about. We got the topo maps and the aerial and satellite photos and it looks pretty tough. I found an old journal by a Scots fur trader that ran the river in 1886, and he said that the Indians had made some pretty good portage trails in there. I doubt if they're open today, since no one runs the river much, but we'll look for them.", I said.

We all shook hands. "Good luck Bonne Chance" He said as he clambered back up in the baggage car. "Write me a note when you get home! Send it to Henri Ledeaux care of de railroad!"

"Will do! Thanks for all the help mon ami!! Merci!" Jeff and I waved as he pulled the communicating cord and the train lurched into motion. He waved back and then ducked back inside the baggage car.

We stood and watched til the end of the train went out of sight around the curve. The silence and sense of isolation was almost overwhelming.

Jeff broke the silence. "Well, here we are on the shore of Long Lake in Northern Labrador, off to find the headwaters of the Nissipinissi."

"Yeah- I don't mind telling you I'm a bit nervous", I replied. "It's been so long in the planning and now I'm having a little trouble accepting that it's really here. I have butterflies in my stomach the size of pterodactyls."

"Me too! Well, guy- let be about it. It's early enough to get some miles on while there's no wind. With a little luck we can get across the lake and partway to the west end before we make camp."

"Sounds good to me, Jeff! We don't want to hit it too hard til we get into the groove, but we might as well get a good start."

We carried the packs and drybags down to the beach and loaded them into the canoe. We tied them in place and strapped our spare paddles on top. I pulled the GPS out of it's waterproof bag and turned it on. Once it found its location, I set it as the first waypoint and turned the unit off to save batteries. Jeff did the same with his unit, so we would have backup navigation. (We also had compasses and copies of the topo maps in each of our packs.)

After putting my emergency bag on my belt, I donned my PFD and adjusted the straps. River knife, whistle and flashlight were all in their proper places. I clambered over the gear to the bow seat and steadied the canoe with my paddle as Jeff climbed into the stern seat. He shoved us off the beach as I gave a firm stroke with my paddle. We quickly fell into an easy rhythm honed by miles of practice. We were off on the trip of a lifetime! Two weeks on a wild river in remote Labrador!

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