Meeting the challenge of whitewater, family

While Zane raged, Aidan quietly plucked a fistful of daisies and handed them to me.

This week, instead of the outer Excelsior, we find ourselves in the outer, outer Skowhegan, Maine.

Hard to believe that Benedict Arnold was ever an American patriot, or that we ever invaded Canada, but it all happened on the Dead River in the fall of 1775. Arnold led 1,100 men up across the watercourse. Things got so bad that they had to portage a 400-pound boat up, and boil rawhide to make soup.

And when they got to Quebec City, the home team walloped them. Turns out the ancestors of Justin Trudeau were a lot tougher than the ancestors of Donald Trump.

The Dead River runs into the Kennebec in a town named Forks. Go upstream and you get to West Forks, year-round population of 44. It was 42 until my brother-in-law, Craig, and my sister-in-law-in-law moved into the only house that has a streetlight.

Everybody knows everybody and helps each other out. Take Doris, who works in Berry’s General Store. Berry’s carries moose antlers and whoopie pies and porcupine quill necklaces. But not Moxie Soda. And not writing implements. I went in to get one to write this article, and Doris said, “We don’t sell pens but seeing how you need one for your column, I’ll give you mine. Don’t forget to say something nice.”

There’s only one highway in or out, the 201, and everybody waves, even the logging truckers. As we drove in through Caratunk, I was heartened to see that the one Confederate flag stood outnumbered by the Stars and Stripes, the Maple Leaf, and even a Rainbow flag or two. The church is closed from November until May, which means you get to skip all the long services.

The town is big on whitewater rafting, which is convenient, because for 14 miles on either side there are Class II to Class V rapids. Craig works part time for Dead River Expeditions, run by Bill and Karen. Craig took the Fisher-Paulsons and the Boones (Stephanie, Mordecai, Dempsey and Elijah). Turns out that unlike the other items on my bucket list, tattoos and skydiving, this was actually fun. The first rapids, Taster, we got soaked. Stephanie fell out on the second turn, and as she got back in on my side, her husband, Mordecai, said, “Won’t that put too much weight on starboard?” File that under the category of things not to say to your wife after she just took a dunking in the river.

We learned a few lessons on those churning waters: 1. Work as a team. Paddle together. 2. Don’t panic. 3. When the river gets rough, we had to paddle the hardest.

Not everything went well. Zane’s medication was off, which resulted in monumental tantrums followed by shaking sobs. I’ve ridden this out before, but it’s hard to do in front of both the Boones and Uncle Craig. During these episodes, Zane is the best person in the world at making himself unlovable. Which makes things even harder on Aidan.

But sweetness endures. After a long walk to Moxie Falls, the tallest cataract in New England, Zane blamed me for every flying insect on the stream. Maine’s state bird, by the way, is the mosquito. But while Zane raged, Aidan quietly plucked a fistful of daisies and handed them to me.

We took an old logging road and hiked up to Grand Falls. I had to agree with my brother-in-law that there’s something nice about living in a place where you can walk to this, where you can fall asleep to the sound of the rippling river and the smell of cedar.

We ate dinner at the 15 Mile Stream Restaurant, where you can bring your dog in to eat with you, and where they serve the best pizza east of Bravo’s.

That night, we went back to the River House and started working a jigsaw. Wherever we go with the SASBs we work a puzzle, generally over a glass of Pinot Grigio.

This one should have been easy: 500 pieces of five brightly colored catalogs. But something had gone wrong at the game factory. The wedges did not quite fit, and there were mysteriously duplicated items. Zane downright refused to help, and one by one the rest of us surrendered: Stephanie, Brian, me.

But Aidan kept going. At 11 p.m., Dempsey announced, “We’ll never do it.”

Aidan did not look up. He answered, “We don’t give up. Jigsaws are like family, like whitewater rafting. We’ve got to keep going. And every once in a while, that blue piece that you’ve had in your hand for so long, the one that doesn’t fit anywhere, turns out to be a corner of the sky.”