There’s still plenty of adventure to come and many tales yet to unfold, but earlier this week John and I were reflecting on what a long, strange trip it’s been—literally as well as metaphorically—and it occurs to me that some heartfelt thanks are due, and sooner rather than later. I couldn’t possibly have made this trip without the rest of Team Viking: John, Russell, and Tim. For those of you who haven’t cottoned on by now, this Old River Rat made his bones on fast-moving rocky inland waterways, and Ol’ Ratty will never truly be at home on the Big Salty. John and Russell and Tim made heroic efforts and great strides in this regard, and any small success I have or will enjoy in this endeavor must be credited in large measure to them. Thank you, brothers. For those of you who did not come of age in a giant old aluminum Grumman owned by Big Chuck Smith, just believe me when I say that the skills are not immediately transferable. I mean, in most conditions I can keep my boat upright and keep it on course and paddle until my Ratty heart explodes, but the techniques that are second nature to me are simply too energy-intensive and inefficient in a kayak of any kind, and most especially in a long, fiberglass sea-kayak with a skeg. If any student every brought ol’ RAF close to the end of his tether, it was yours truly. But he persevered, and I improved, if only to a point of modest adequacy. John always has been likewise patient beyond words, although we know each other far too well for me not to get the vibe when I’m pushing him near the edge. And Tim, Dear Sir Tim, took the time to be sure that this massive and creaky old frame could well and truly affect a wet exit and self-rescue in the surf. Again. And again. And again. If you are of my size and age and haven’t spent many years getting in and out of a sea-kayak smoothly and easily, upside down and underwater, in swell and surf, it ain’t the easiest skill to master. Yoga helps, but not nearly as much as one might hope. Heartfelt gratitude, Tim. So thank you, Viking Brothers, and thanks to all Honorary and Auxiliary Vikings and our dear Vikettes, for all of the steadfast support. And to my brothers of the wooden paddle, JBW and Friend Jan and FPRRG (Former Professional River Raft Guide) Bunkie and Bret-Dog and all the others: River Rat Love! I want to close with a shout out to the Smith Boys, Big Chuck, Little Chuck, Matt, and Billy, who along with my own big brother Pat instilled in me a passion for swift-moving water, and a fearlessness born of the simple childhood faith that ain’t nohtin’ gonna sink a million-year-old Grumman. It was a real gift, and I am truly grateful. Thanks for the memories! And now back to our regularly scheduled program.
Follow along on our ongoing adventures on this map:
In the Wake of the Vikings 
I remember those old Grummans. My dad bought 3 from some canoe livery. Full of dings dents and holes. Looks like an awesome trip!
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Those were the days, eh?
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By which I mean our salad days on the Little Miami.I can still ear you boom, “Ramming Speed!”
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