Tracker of Plants

Here is a true story I wrote when I was 16. I’ve retyped it from one of the authentic paper copies of The Stat, an inflammatory zine I co-edited in high school, complete with the original run on sentences, typos, awkward phrasing, and youthful idealism:

I’ve run away. It’s 2 in the morning and I’ve run away from home. Why you ask? No reason, not the kind your looking for anyway. I’m not running from something. There is nothing “wrong” at home, and although Pittsburgh, some 200 miles down the Conewango creek and Allegheny River is my destination, I’m not running to something. I’m running simply for the sake of running.

The whole idea had been brewing in my mind for years. I don’t know what initially provoked it but I remember sitting in Mr. Robinson’s (Sackaro’s, as we called him) 8th grade English class preparing lists of who, what I’d take and drawing diagrams of where I put it all .Then earlier this year my friend Ronna and I, we came up with this list of “Outrageous Plans for the summer of ’99” and this was part of them all. The plans themselves were in fact part of my campaign to make up for the sucky sheltered life I’d been leading up until now. I wanted to have an adventure, do something that would be something different, amazing, something to talk about. So now it was August some of my plans for the great summer of ’99 had worked some hadn’t, but I felt I hadn’t attempted anything substantial yet. I’d been restless for days. You know how you can start to feel it? smell it? the unmistakeable stench of fall in the air? I could feel the time running out like gravel dropping out of my palm into a pool. “plop, plop, plop; tick tick tick.” I decided canoeing was what I wanted to do most.

I knew it was now or never and knowing that made me extremely tense and restless as if I was balancing precariously on a ledge about to jump off and not knowing if I should. I almost went once. I called up my friend Jake we even put my canoe on his car. We were only going to go a few miles together. That was all I could expect from anybody although of course what I wanted was for someone who would just drop everything and run away with me. I know Jake would have come though if he have had more time and I’ll give him that. Maybe I could drop him off and continue going by myself? I’d never had problems with doing things alone. Well I was conflicted, torn. I didn’t know if I could should do it, could do it, would I be able to pull it off? Jake could sense there was something wrong well it’s not that hard to sense when somebody can’t smile, can’t speak, can hardly look you in the eye without holding back tears. So, I chickened out. My biggest question was what would my parents do? I decided to clue them in as to what I was about to do so it wouldn’t be so big of a shock. I accomplished this by dragging out the trusty old canoe and any essential equipment I would need. “You aren’t going anywhere,” they said.

“Why not?” I left the issue alone I did my best to act normal the remainder of the night, but the whole time I knew I HAD to do it and it was as simple as that. The last thing my mother said to me before I went to bed that night “Don’t pull any stunts.” I don’t think she actually thought I would so blatantly disobey her, that I would even be able to physically accomplish this feat.

I went outside to go to bed in my queen size Mayan hammock, as usual. After a sufficient time of laying there pretending to yet hoping I wouldn’t fall asleep, I got up and inspected the house for signs of life. Convinced that everyone was fast asleep I readily gathered my backpack full of clothes and supplies in my sleeping bag, which were concealed in plastic garbage bags to keep dry, then the canoe paddle, life jacket, and cushion, and transported them to my launching site. I’d been thinking about how I was going to manage this for quite awhile and finally decided I could drag the canoe straight across my neighbors lawn. Although we don’t get along and if they caught me in the act they would most likely attempt to shoot me, I decided to risk it. You see the creek is not far behind my house but we don’t own any of the property. Besides that heading straight back there is a steep embankment which would be impossible to get the canoe down unless you just let it drop and hoped it didn’t break at the bottom. I’d have to take a detour to the side. Another problem-the canoe was made in 1968 by my dad and grandfather as part of a kit. It’s a good canoe, floats just fine, can keep up with the most high tech, but it weighs over 90 pounds- too much for me to carry for distances longer than a few yards. So eventually I decided the easiest way was to pick it up to stagger cross my driveway, across my yard, and across my neighbors driveway. I walked sideways crab-style balancing it on my knees. I almost lost my balance and dropped it once. The sound of metal, wood, and fiberglass grinding on concrete certainly would have been loud enough to wake my light sleeping mom and probably my heavy sleeping dad. But I recovered myself and got it into the grass. I had to rest and repeat this crab walk about 4 times to get across my yard and into my neighbors. Once I got it into their yard I set it down, picked up one end and ran, well ran as fast as you can while your dragging a 90 pound canoe. Their yard was large. It’s actually more of a field than a yard and I was scared their beagle would awaken and bark at me rousing someone in the house. It has been barking earlier when I was just transferring my luggage over but it refrained this time. After I got my canoe through the yard I had to get it to the bottom of a sheer rocky bank. The stones were slipping dangerously as I climbed down. I had to return home to get my flashlight which I hadn’t been carrying because I had my hands full with the canoe. I also snuck inside and filled an old sports drink bottle full of water for myself. I took one last good look at the house at walked away. It was surprisingly easy to manipulate the canoe down these rocks and into the water. The worst part was at one point I dropped my flashlight and the top popped off. I had to take it up to a street light to put it back together. Thankfully then it still worked.

***

So now I’ve done it. I’ve really run away! This murky pool that I push my canoe into is behind a small island the water is nearly standing still because the rocks close it off at one end. It feels like a swamp. I walk my boat away from shore, sweeping the flashlight beam in front of me, my feet stirring up the mud. Something is startled. It flops around frantically in the water and disappears. Ahead I can clearly see a gigantic catfish sleeping peacefully on the creek bottom. It’s not startled at all. I step cautiously over it. A strong current begins to take hold pulling my canoe out of the pool. I hop in and enjoy the ride. We run into a tree, its branches leaning out over the water. These are called sweepers or strainers and they can be dangerous, catch on your clothes of lifejacket, attach themselves to you, pull you out of your canoe and pin you down but now everything gets through okay. The creek widens here. It’s a big creek but its shallow. We’ve been under a drought warning all summer long. Its also particularly brown and dirty, starting to fill with seaweed and microscopic plants like a pond. Disgusting. I’m afraid to trail my toes in the water like they are now, but I do it anyway. I sit on the very front of the canoe with my legs dangling in the water on either side so I can feel for rocks and jump off easily if we hit something.

I cant see a thing. Its so dark. I set my flashlight on the front for a headlight. The night is cool and the water is warm. All around the fog rises off the water and swirls creeping like ghost fingers. For some reason I never thought about this, that I wouldn’t be able to see. It would be helpful if there was a moon out there is but all there is left of it is a pitiful sliver. I turn off the flashlight and am able to just aim my canoe at a bright area between the trees that hang lazily over the banks. The water is silk smooth. The air is electric. This is amazing. I don’t paddle much except to keep straight just let the current carry me. Fish flop loudly in every direction hitting the water with an almost sickening smack. They sound huge. I can’t believe I’m doing this. …just like Huckleberry Finn. A huge bird flies off a tree in front of me. Probably a Great Blue Heron. There are a lot of them here. Every time I hit a shallow part I have to get out a drag the canoe over the rocks. I send it in front of me to wake up all the resting frogs before they can jump into me. One smacks into the side of the canoe and falls back down. I’d be totally lost now except that I’ve been down this creek so many times before I know the location of all the islands and shallows and eddies. It was never like this though. Things are completely different in the night. I like this. I feel an amazing sense of freedom and I just hop back in my canoe and glide silently down the stream. My canoe feels like my best friend right now after all its all I got.

How far will I go tonight? The mall? Farther? I don’t know if I can make it. The going is slow in the dark and I’m tired. I haven’t had an once of sleep tonight haven’t and its almost 3:30. It’s chilly out too. I decide to camp on “Deer Island” a ways below the mall. That way I can get there when K-mart opens in the morning. I need to buy some things. There’s $20 in my back pocket I stole from my moms purse and I brought more money of my own. I need a knife, food (I didn’t bring any. I planned on buying it all there are plenty of towns along the route and that way I wouldn’t have to carry cooler or any extras), and duct tape to patch leaks if I get any. As I pull the canoe up to shore I alarm a whole flock of dozing geese who fly off honking annoyed no doubt. I just pick a good looking spot in the weeds on the island and crash there out in the open for the night.

I awaken its hot and sunny, glance at my watch, 8’o clock. I actually did it! I’m actually here on an island. I don’t waste any time just jump in the canoe head out into the morning sun. I arrive at the mall shortly. Walking through the store I feel like people can look and me and see that I’m someone different but maybe its just because I’m dirty. I feel superior to them anyhow.

***

I’d like to say that the day was just as wondrous as the night but the fact was it was long and boring. I also wish I could say this say wasn’t my last on the water. The highlights of the day were the waterfowl. At one point I stumbled upon what looked to be a top secret meeting of about 50 or so geese. They refused to leave their post and instead walked slowly to the other side of the creek and turned to glare at me as I passed. Believe me you haven’t heard anything until you’ve heard the sound of 4 dozen geese marching in step. “Ssslap, Ssslap.” Later I got to play the leader in a game of follow the leader with a group of ducks. Otherwise I paddled moving slowly but surely down the creek I stopped at a gas station to buy a jug of water and a package of hot dogs. I stopped at Wendy’s to purchase a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger (something I wouldn’t normally eat but nobody here could tell me what I liked and what I didn’t.) I still felt the incredible sense of freedom. But I was too nervous of getting caught. Every car that passed up on the road I glanced to see if it was mine. I thought for sure someone would be waiting to capture me at the little concrete dam near Burger King. It’s rather annoying hunk of concrete and takes a while to maneuver a canoe over. But no one was there. It’s funny approaching I looked and saw people fishing in white shirts and thought they can’t be from my family, no one in my family wears white T-shirts. So I pushed on out of the dull creek and into the decidedly greener Allegheny River. Had I made it all the way to Pittsburgh I’m sure much of it would have been wearisome and after awhile all the islands and riverside cottages would start to look the same but it sure would have been something. How far would I get today? Not as far as I wanted to. Unfortunately my adventure was cut short when I was apprehended around 6 p.m. by my parents at the Buckaloons Recreation Area famous for its Indian artifacts found at archaeological digs. I wasn’t even missing for 24 hours. So now what have I got to show for it but a sunburn and an odd off-centered watch tan? Yeah, but its more than that. Finally I feel satisfied. I’m calm now. I said I’d go and I did I. Anybody who didn’t think I would was proved wrong, anybody who knew I would was proved right. I was brave and I was daring and I’m not a liar. I may not have made it but I gave it my best shot. If I had refused to come home my parents would have called out the River Rescue Patrol of somethingerother. For now my mind is at rest, at least until I come up with another idea…

author at age 16