Date: Mon, 29 Oct 2012 15:22:13 -0700 (PDT)
From: Ben Ezra Jacobson <ben_ezra_jacobson@yahoo.com>
Subject: THE CANOE TRIP by Dr. Ben Ezra Jacobson, Phd.
THE CANOE TRIP
BY Ben Ezra Jacobson
ben_ezra_jacobson@yahoo.com
CANOEING ON UPPER FISH TRAP LAKE
By Ben Ezra Jacobson
Ben_ezra_jacobson@yahoo.com
This story is a reflection of my memories as a young guy of age 19 in
Northern Wisconsin one summer when I went with 5 buddies to camp and fish
on Upper Fish Trap Lake near Boulder Junction, Wisconsin. This story
should be placed under the Nifty group called CAMPING...and I would welcome
hearing from readers who liked the story or wanted additional information.
Chapter One
Packing for Camp
We had spoken of taking a canoe trip for many months and the six of us
planned out our vacation of two weeks with meticulous detail. We started
out in east central Illinois where we all lived with in a short radius of
one another and planned to drive to Boulder Junction, Wisconsin where our
trip would start at Boulder Lake. Our first day of arrival was on a Friday
afternoon and we set up camp at the Birchwood Camp grounds. The next
morning we planned to paddle up the river and cross Boulder Lake which was
a lengthy paddling from home base. Since we would be on the water for many
days, going from one chain of lakes to another...we took all our supplies
with us in seventeen foot, aluminum Grumman canoes... with extra paddles
just in case we should break or loose one.
Birchwood lived up to it's name. The campground on this second day of
June 1967 was very sparse. The owner, a jolly man named Lucas, told us
that it was still a bit early for the seasoned travelers and a little cool
at night. The day temps here had been very comfortable but the nights were
going to be chilly. We had scoured the woods for fire wood to be cut up
with our bow saws and had rigged a dinning fly over the metal picnic table
next to our tents. We brought three light weight style tents called
"voyagers" that had been especially designed for canoe travel and had set
them up in a neat row before the picnic table so the openings all faced the
campfire ring.
The mosquitoes and gnats in the north woods were extremely prolific as
were the chipmunks. We found that mosquitoes and gnats rushed into our
eyes, nose and mouths as soon as we stepped out of our tents...and the
chipmunks were always on alert to find their way into our tents. We shook
our sleeping bags and examined our back packs every night before crawling
into our beds. The first day, it was obvious that we would need a lot of
insect repellant to spray on our hands and faces and a large can of YARD
GUARD every night to keep the flying insects out of our campsite.
Our first night in camp...we were almost too excited to sleep. I
shared my tent with a boy named Fred...a happy and jolly kid who was always
laughing. The second tent was occupied by two guys name Kenny and Tom, the
third tent was occupied by Larry and Joe. We varied in age from me at 19,
Tom at 18, Kenny at 17, Larry and Joe at 16 and Fred...our youngest member
at 15. Despite our age variance... we all got along surprisingly well.
We had prepared our supper before sunset...the scouter's gourmet
supper of grilled burgers and a large bag of potato chips, washed down with
Coke and Sprite. An hour afterward, we made a pot of hot tea and cobbler
in the dutch oven and settled in for a bit of chess under the tarp. A soft
rain cooled the air very quickly...but the moisture did not dampen our
excitement to start our canoeing expedition after sunrise.
By the time we crawled into our sleeping bags, the air in the tent was
cold. Fred suggested that we zip our sleeping bags together for added
warmth. We had read that sharing sleeping arrangements helped to keep both
campers warm. Both of us with sweat pants and sweat shirts to sleep in,
snuggled up to each other...laid our heads on our pillows and quickly went
deeply to sleep.
Morning brought a nice sunrise. The river next to our camp was
steamy. The water had retained much of it's warmth while the air cooled
and the effect was a low fog like mist rising from the surface. By the
time we had breakfast completed and our bags packed and loaded into the
canoe...the foggy mist was beginning to lift. We had hustled to the
showers to bathe because we knew it would be two weeks before we had the
comfort of hot water again. Now in warm blue jeans, flannel shirts under a
bulky sweatshirt, caps and shoes...we cast off for Boulder Lake. The water
rippled under our canoes along the main seam as we paddled against a light
current. A mystery about paddling against a light current is that the
waves tend to make the canoe ride higher in the water than when paddling
with the current...which allows the canoe to sit deeper in the water. Our
speed was increased by riding higher...and although we were crossing the
lake right down through the middle...it did not seem like any time at all
until we landed on Boulder Island to stretch our legs and to shoot some
film.
Most of the islands in this part of the woods are set up for
camping...which makes perfect sense. Even if a camp fire gets out of
control...the burn is only going to go as far as the water. Fortunately
this attractive island had exhibited no signs of ever having had a renegade
fire. The center had a promontory surrounded by pines and balsams. The
latter was densely populated and the smell of evergreen was ubiquitous.
Pines and balsams always smell so clean.
As much as we wanted to spend more time on Boulder Island...we pushed
our canoes back into the water and headed upstream. We passed a series of
little cottages along the bank and some teenage boys yelled out to us, to
come a shore and spend some time with them. One even offered to let us
camp at their place...but our goal was to get farther upstream by the end
of the day. We paddled another couple of miles and came to a water fall.
We went to the shore and got out on to the land and walked up the hill to
another lake. It was now time to portage around the cascade which took a
short amount of time. At one point...it became necessary to go left or
right...and we chose the right.
I was documenting out trip with movie film. We paddled farther to the
east and our waterway got smaller and smaller...until we were scooting
along on a channel that was barely a foot deep...when we suddenly came out
at the mouth of a new lake. There were no cabins along the side...and no
one was to be seen anywhere on the water or the land around. The day was
clicking away at a tremendous pace. We had eaten some sandwiches at the
cascade and now we were into the middle of the afternoon. Another island
loomed ahead and we paddled to it and found that it was set up for camping
as Boulder Island had been. A plaque mounted on a post said that the
island was named Nixon Lake Island and there was a posting of what campers
could and could not do. Swimming was not allowed. We set up camp in the
clearing and as soon as it was dark...after we had fixed a camp supper...we
all stripped out of our clothing and went into the water to swim...all of
us, buck-ass naked. The water was cold and swimming was not a pleasant
experience...but it did allow us to wash off the sweat from paddling, the
dingle berries from sitting, and cool our bodies from the Wisconsin sun
that beat down upon us in the aluminum canoes.
My tent partner and I zipped our sleeping bags together again...but
this time...we did not put on our clothing. We decided to see if two naked
bodies lying side by side was warmer than were to clothed bodies lying side
beside. Fred was laying on his right side, backed up to me...and I had my
arm over him and rested it against his chest. He made no protestations. I
moved my hand down a bit against his flat stomach and still he made no
sound what so ever. After a few minutes, once again, I moved my hand lower
to his groin line and felt pubic hair against my little finger. His
breathing had suddenly started to rise and as I move another inch lower
felt the back of my hand bump up against his fully engorged penis. Still
he said not a word. I slid my hand around his shaft. As I did so, he
scooted closer to me. My dick was now pressed against his ass. He reached
around and repositioned it against his sphincter...then pushed harder
against me. My dick slipped into the opening and as he pushed against
me...my dick went deep inside until his buttocks were against my groin.
"How is it that I slipped in as deep as it would go," I asked him as I
patted his cock..?
"I lubed up while you were outside taking a piss," he replied. "I did
not know if things would come to this...but I hoped that it would."
"We never talked about this sort of thing," I responded, " I just
thought that you might be interested in some fun."
"I saw you and your friend Steve beating off together on the canoe
trip last month on the River Trip...and I wanted to be part of it. When we
flipped the dice to see who would be our tent partner...I was excited when
you drew my name, " Responded Fred. "All the guys wanted you for a canoe
partner...but I got you...and now you have me." And with that he thrust
his glutes back against me plunging my dick deeper with in him.
Very little was said between us for the next fifteen or twenty
minutes...as I fondled his hardware and he thrust back against me. I
pulled out as far as my dick head goes and plunged again against him. The
sensation was exciting for both of us. His breathing was getting
heavier...as his dick in my left hand got harder. It was obvious that he
was only seconds away from ejaculating...and as I increased my thrusts into
his canal...he pushed back against me one more time and exploded into the
towel that he had conveniently layed in front of him. I shot my load deep
inside of him a few seconds after wards and then we just lay there for a
few minutes to recover. Fred had thought of everything...he had a wet
cloth in a plastic bag and cleaned himself up with in the tent.
" If I go outside now...the others will know what we have been up
to," he said...so I will wait until later...when I am sure they are all
asleep."
I was sound asleep when he crawled out of his sleeping bag and slipped
into his sweat suit and went out. When he returned...he brought the cold
air with him...and when he climbed back into the sleeping bag...his skin
was cold. He took his wet cloth which he had rinsed out in the cold water
of Nixon Lake and proceeded to wash my cock...which started getting hard
again with the attention he was giving it. When he was satisfied that it
was clean, he dried it with another towel...and then scooted down into the
sleeping bag...where I felt his lips going down on my shaft. I laughed a
bit and tried to push his head back lest he get a mouth full...but he was
determined to make that happen...and once again after about two hours from
the last encounter...I shot a load into his mouth..which he then spit into
a waiting towel. After wards...he kissed me on the side of my cheek and
lay down...soon to be lightly snoring...in complete satisfaction. I was
left to clean myself up with a large red bandana that I had worn around my
neck...that day...in the canoe.
The next morning, as we sat around the camp fire eating our breakfast,
one of the guys said, "We did not hear any moaning nor screaming coming
from your tent last night...you two must have been completely worn out."
Everyone sniggered...but Fred and I just looked at each other and shrugged
our shoulders.
"I do not remember my head hardly hitting the pillow," he said. " Did
anything happen while we were asleep?"
"Better believe it," said Larry, "I got the best blow job of my life
last night."
Joe only shrugged his shoulders...and grinned. We knew he had had a
good time as well.
After packing up, we reloaded the canoes and back tracked to the left
creek...which according to our map would take us to Lower and Upper Fish
Trap Lakes. We realized that we were quite a bit south and east of where
we wanted to go...but the trip on the various channels did not seem so long
at all. We had plenty of sunshine for the day and as the blades of our
paddles dipped into the clear blue water...we realized what a delight it
was to be in the north woods and away from the hustle and bustle of city
lights. We arrived on Upper Fish Trap lake in the middle of the afternoon
and made our way to the two islands in the center of the lake. At one time
they had been joined by a foot bridge but somewhere along the line...
someone had set fire to the bridge...probably for a prank...and only the
footings remained and a couple of logs running the horizontal distance
between them.
Once again we set up our voyager tents around the fire ring but this
time...we set them back a bit to be away from the sparks and smoke of the
fire...and we also considered the need for more individual privacy. Fred
had paddled the bow of my canoe all day in a pair of swim trunks and was
badly sunburned. We helped apply a spray antiseptic to the burn...which he
tolerated very well, but lying on his back was going to be an impossibility
tonight for sure. He would not feel up to a repeat of last night's
adventure. Tom and Kenny had got their fishing gear and gone to the
remains of the foot bridge which now acted as a depository for the canoes
turned upside down on the horizontal poles between the islands. We had
chained the canoes together and then run the chain around the big tree next
to the bridge and secured it with a lock.
The fishing was a bust but we had brought some canned chicken and
chicken broth and later in the evening...had chicken and noodles and an
assortment of canned veggies. For desert...some baking mix in a poach and
some canned pie filling made another nice cobbler along with a large pot of
hot tea. Fish Trap Island like Boulder Island and Nixon Island had had
picnic tables placed for campers...and again the air turned cool at
sundown...but the campfire and the hot tea and cobbler...made the evening
very comfortable. Sweat shirts came out of our back packs and then
windbreakers and ball caps as the evening progressed. We played cards and
dominoes. Much to our surprise...we could even pull the local radio
station on one of the transistor radios. It was nearly midnight when we
called it quits. Fred had gone to bed a couple hours earlier complaining
of his sunburn...and went promptly to sleep. This time, he did not connect
our two sleeping bags. Joe and Larry soon followed as did Tom. Kenny and
I sat by the fire and stared at the embers.
"We must not forget to take the canoe paddles into the tent tonight,"
he reminded me.
It is not likely that I would forget that as we had been warned that
the beavers and sometimes the raccoons would gnaw at the handles to extract
the salt solution absorbed in the wood. I gathered up the six paddles
lying across the table to dry and placed them in the tent with the three
spares. So far, if there had been any chewing animals...we were unaware of
them.
Once again we returned to the fire and stared into it. I was not
sleepy and Kenny seemed uninclined to call it a day. He would stare at the
fire and look up at me.
"What," I said smiling.
"Oh, nothing...just not sleepy," he responded.
"Want to play another round of chess or dominoes?'
"No...maybe go for a short walk and look at the stars." he replied.
"Want some company," I asked...hoping that he did?
"Yes." he said, looking at me straight on...eye to eye contact.
He got up and wandered down the path to the old bridge without looking
back...crawled over the canoes and walked the horizontal poles to the other
island and started up the little hill. At the top of the hill, there was
small clearing about the size of a 15 by 15 foot grassy spot with a few
rocks jutting through the grasses. He sat down on the flat rock in the
ground and leaned back against the larger rock form. I followed him to the
rock and sat down next to him...shoulder to shoulder. We looked up at the
sky to see the constellations. All around us were pines and balsams, and
above us, a dark navy blue sky with billions of stars.
"Look at that," he said, "have you ever seen so many stars..?"
"In deed," I responded, "I have not."
"Fabulous," he said and turned to look and see if I was really paying
attention.
When I pointed out a couple of obvious constellations, he was
satisfied that I was paying attention...and continued to name first one
constellation and then another.
"You really dig this scene, don't you," I stated..."I did not realize
how much you knew about the subject."
I was deeply impressed with his knowledge.
"I do," he said, "it makes mankind seem so insignificant."
I turned to look at him. "I think you are significant, Kenny You know
so much more about academics than any of the rest of us."
His smile faded, "I am not significant...I just know a little more
about a lot of facts than less interested people do."
I repeated my statement, " You are significant to us. You are
significant to me."
He looked at me...removed his glasses and kissed me on the side of
the face, turned back to the sky and then leaned his head over, onto my
shoulder. I put my arm around him. We sat there in that attitude for some
time. Suddenly he shivered.
"You are cold...do you want to go back to camp?"
"No...I want to stay here with you."
I hugged him closer. He turned and kissed me on the lips and I
returned the kiss several times.
"I wish you were sleeping in my tent tonight," he spoke. " I need you
close tonight."
"We could build a fire here," I said.
"No, it will attract insects and eyes. Let's just stay here a little
longer and then we will go back," he said.
"Is there anything I could do for you," I asked?
"Yes, hold me close."
He got up and moved between my legs in front of me and leaned back
against me. The pressure of his body against me...gave me a hard on. He
could feel it between us and leaned back a little harder. I reached under
his arm and felt his groin. He too was in full erection. I fondled it and
he made some sounds that showed me that he was enjoying being touched.
"Stand up," I said.
He rose to his feet and I turned him around...taking hold of his belt,
unloosened it, unzipped his jeans and pulled them and his boxers down to
his knees...popping his hard cock into my mouth. In less than two minutes,
he groaned and ejaculated a big load into my mouth. I spit the residue out
and watched him pull himself together.
He then threw his arms around me, giving me a big hug.
"Let me get you off now," he said.
"You don't have to," I replied, " I am just happy to be here for you
when you needed me."
"I need to get you off," he answered back.
He dropped my pants and like him...it only took a little bit of oral
attention to do the trick, except he pulled my cock out of his mouth and
jacked it so he could see me shoot...and shoot I did...five or six big
arching ejaculations. It felt really good.
We made our way back to camp and each of us made our way into our
respective tents...waving a joyful...goodnight.
The next morning we paddle from Upper Fish Trap lake through a large
culvert onto High Lake and paddled completely around the perimeter. There
were no more chains of lakes connecting with High Lake and our option was
only to return from whence we had come. Fish Trap Island was of fairly
good size and so we decided to keep it as a base camp, and we would stay an
additional day or two and try to get some fishing in. As out of state
campers...we had to buy limited time fishing license. For most of us...it
was an unprofitable adventure, but for two of our party...it proved
successful. That day for lunch...we had fresh fish. The afternoon was
spent in exploring. We paddle our canoes to shore and visited with some of
the people who had rented cabins around the lake and by evening...returned
to the island with a few supplies we had picked up at a little mom & pop
store near the cabin community. We had never tried to make pizza in a
Dutch oven before...but by placing some stones in the bottom of the Dutch
oven to keep the pizza pan from scorching...we found that pizza can be
cooked quite successfully on a camping trip.
After lunch...the sun was at it's best for a swim. We paddled to the
east side of the lake where there was a sand beach but no trails. Here we
beached the canoes, stripped off our jeans and shirts and waded into the
deeper water. There is something really satisfying about being naked in
cool water and not have the constriction of fabric between your legs.
"I just pissed in the water," said one of the guys.
"Don't worry about it," said another..."the fish do it all the time."
We all laughed. After some time, we climbed out of the water and lay
in the warm sand and sunned ourselves. What was amazing to me was that
although I am the oldest of the six of us...I was not the best hung.
Several of my camp buddies had much bigger dicks than I did, some had more
pubic hair, and some had lower hanging balls...but we all had the same
characteristic in that we all enjoyed the sensation of Jacking off before
one another to see who could cum more and produce the greatest sensations.
Tom lay on his stomach in the sand and tried to make a sand angel. Before
he could turn over and try it on his back, Larry jumped onto his back and
pushed his dick into the crack of his ass and began to push. Tom rolled
over and threw him into the sand. The tussle was on. In the end...no one
had his "end" breached" but there was a lot of jabs and jives about being a
"cock-sucker" and "a queer." None of our party was an "out gay" but all
had had some exploratory fun with other boys...and none was embarrassed
about being naked on the sand in front of the rest. I sat by my canoe and
snapped a few discreet photos that would be rued later. After all, none of
us would want our mom's to see us frolicking in the sand...buck ass naked.
The afternoon passed in a whirl. We went back into the water to wash
off the sand, and then pulled our clothing back on to prepare to paddle the
canoes back to the island. When we reached the frame work of the old foot
bridge...two of the canoes were hoisted up...onto the framework, but I tied
my canoe to a tree after pulling it half way up out of the water. I
thought it would be fun to go for a canoe ride after dark as long as we
remained with in sight of the island. This time, Larry was the one I
wanted to join me for this little jaunt. When I walked over to him while
supper was cooking and asked if he would be interested...he said that he
would...as long as I did not tell anyone else that he had agreed.
Supper and clean up took about an hour and a half. The sun was
setting and I shot more movie film of it going down. When the others had
turned in...Larry and I put our paddles into my canoe, and pushed off. We
paddled slowly and quietly around to the other side of the island. There
were no trails there.
The back side of the island had a rocky peninsula that jutted out into
the water. It was so very dark around on this side and some of the trees
leaned out over the lake. The water was very calm...almost like a mill
pond. We stopped paddling and just sat and listened to the sounds of the
night. There was just a slight breeze that kept mosquitoes and insects
away.
As we floated there with little effort...my canoe partner Tom leaned
forward and said, "Have you ever had sex in a canoe?"
I smiled and responded, "not until now."
He grabbed both sides of the canoe side walls and walked down the main
seam to the center and I did the same from the bow to the center. We lay
down on the floor of the canoe and held each other in a long embrace...
kissing and tickling our private areas. Both of us came to full mast
almost immediately.
"Do you like to 69," he asked?
"I sure do," I replied, readjusting myself accordingly.
I put his dick into my mouth and he did likewise...and we sucked away,
every once in awhile...running our tongues along the balls and beyond.
"get up on your hands and knees," he said, "and lean over the thwart."
I did so...as his tongue bathed my sphincter. From his pants pocket,
he produced a small tube of lube and applied it generously and to his
penis...and begin to insert and push. What I expected to hurt like hell...
did not. In it slid as he moved in and out. My prostate reverberated with
the intensity of the nerve endings being massaged.
"Let's trade places," he said...and I duplicated his exact
movement...but he jerked a bit when I penetrated. Obviously, I was smaller
than he was in that area...but my dick had caused some momentary discomfort
which he over came quickly.
"Can you lay down on the floor of the canoe," I asked.
"I think I can," he said..."but there will not be room for you lay on
top because of the canoe thwart."
"Right," I agreed..."can you lay on your side."
He did so and I lay behind him and re-inserted my dick into his ass.
The motion of the canoe with me hunching from behind was almost like being
in a hammock. I reached over him and took his dick in my hand...and in
just a few strokes...he shot his wade over the side of the canoe wall. A
couple more pumps and I filled him up with cum. We both just lay there
afterward for what seemed like hours...too content to move...but alas we
had to return to camp.
According to my watch...it was only 10:30 PM and no one seemed to be
too concerned with our being gone. We tied up the canoe, wiped down the
gunnels and went to our respective tents. Inside the tent, my canoe
partner Fred rolled over and said, "Where you been?"
"Paddled around the island to see if I could see any night creatures,"
I replied.
"Oh," he responded, and rolled over and went back to sleep. The next
morning...he did not remember having awakened nor having spoken to me.
Just as well.