Monocacy River Float
Part 4 – Monday, May 27, 2013
I made it! At 1:00 pm on Memorial Day, 2013, I completed the three day journey traveling the Monocacy River from beginning to end. Right now I’m sitting in the grass against a large sycamore tree at the Mouth of the Monocacy boat ramp waiting for my ride home. Everything from Inflatable kayaks, forty year old jon boats with motors just as old, to brand new bass boats jockey for position on the concrete ramp. I just sit and watch. They know nothing of the task I have just completed.
I have reached my destination. The long journey was grand. There is an old saying, “It is not in the destination, but in the journey.” But what is “it”.
It is the experiences gathered along the way. It is the reward of accomplishment of overcoming hurdles along the way. It is the realization of self-worth resulting from such accomplishments. It is all this and more. You can take my truck, my canoe, heck you can take all my worldly belongings, but you cannot take my memories of past journeys. For it is those “its” that make us who we are. Yes, I agree, the journey is the maker of who we are, but without a destination we are but aimlessly wandering lost. It is with a destination, a goal that gives the journey merit; a trip worth taking.
I made it. Three days and 57 miles.
Reaching the designation, completing the journey, provides a sense of pride and self-accomplishment in ways only a hard overcame journey can.
Today I floated through the Monocacy River Battlefield. On Memorial Day, I slowly traveled the same waters that 150 years ago ran red with the blood from those lost in civil battle. It is those lost soldiers we pay homage to on this day. Silently traveling through the early morning fog rising from the river’s waters, I think of how different life was back then.
Early Morning Fog drifts off the Monocacy in the Battlefield on Memorial Day.
With this trip, I had tried to return to such a time. I slept with wool blankets, no sleeping bag. I brought a tarp for cover, no tent. Neither night did I hang the tarp. I slept under the stars. Both nights were “see your breath” cold. I slept close to the fire adding wood throughout the night.
A wood duck watches as I pass down river.
For meals I carried, hard tack (pilot bread), venison jerky and sausage, strawberry jam, butter, cheese, eggs and potatoes. All cooking was done over an open fire using a cast iron skillet.
I became the fourth generation in my family to cook with the skillet. My mother’s grandmother cooked with the skillet on a wood stove, as that is what they had in their homes then. Think about how much our lives in the kitchen has changed since then. Those soldiers fighting at the battle along the Monocacy sure would be amazed at the complete frozen meals we put in a box, hit a few buttons and BAM in four minutes we can eat a complete meal.
Four generations have cook with this pan.
Sure, some may think I’m a half bubble off plumb for taking this trip old school as I did. But I wanted to experience what life once was like. And while I was able to do it for three days, I knew at the end of the float trip waited a warm soft bed, and a big meal. For those who walked from Georgia to Maryland eating hard tack and sleeping on the ground months at a time, there was no escape to modern conveniences.
In the end looking back at the journey, I am glad I took it on as I did. Sitting here at the mouth of the Monocacy waiting for my ride home, I am all smiles and filled with the pride of accomplishment that comes from taking a journey that pushes one beyond our daily limits.
Yes, I floated the full length of the Monocacy River, all sixty miles in three days, solo, eating hard tack and jerky, and sleeping on the ground using wool blankets.
