Date: Mon, 7 Dec 2015 22:25:50 +0000 (UTC)
From: Bob Smith <bobmflorida@yahoo.com>
Subject: Great North Woods Chpt 6

Chapter 6

The next morning found the boys back on the lake canoeing. This was to be a
tough day. The wind was coming down the lake into the boys' faces. It was
hard paddling. The wind was cold and the water splashed over the front of
all the canoes, getting the boys both wet and cold. Even in the summer,
these northern lakes could be brutally cold. Then there were the
portages. They were simply a bitch.

After three hours of pushing against the wind, Gunner pulled into the
shore. The boys felt relieved that their hard work would end with a break.

"Take all your stuff out of the canoe and carry it up the hill to the next
lake." he announced.

The boys took all their supplies and personal gear out of their canoes and
lugged it up the hill. Once at the top you could hear the moan coming from
their mouths as they realized the trip down was worse than the trip up.

The trail to the next lake was filled with mud; ankle deep, wet, slippery,
smelly, mud that sucked you in each time you took a step. You didn't lift
your leg to move forward, you dragged it up through the heavy sludge. The
kids could feel their shoes about to be sucked off each time they moved
forward.  To make things worse, the downhill trail was covered with dead
trees, a result of a winter blow down. Every few feet they encountered a
massive, slippery log that had to be climbed over. Most times, they had to
leave their pack on one side of the downed tree, climb over the tree and
then retrieved their packs only to redo the same things two feet away.

It was hot, hard work made even worse by the mosquitos. This was the first
time they encountered the massive swarms of boy eating bugs. Up until now
they were on parts of the lake where a nice breeze would keep the bugs away
but not here. This was dense woods with massive dark over hangs that
allowed little breeze and the diminutive bugs, with their sharp needles, to
thrive.

To say it was miserable would be an understatement. The boys slipped and
swore up a storm as they tried to reach the next shore without getting
hurt.

Once they achieved their goal, they realized that they still had to go back
up the hill, get their canoes and repeat the process.

The boys had been working together as a team for almost a month and that
experienced helped them immensely. Each team of two boys picked up their
canoes, settled it over their heads and headed up the slope for a repeat
performance. Going downhill was hell but the boys helped each other getting
over the logs and through the thick mud. The bugs, mud and humidity were
still bad but working together saw the crews putting their canoes in the
water and getting out of that hell hole a lot faster than they would have
predicted.

In less than an hour they were on the water and heading north. Gunner found
a clear spot and he told the boys to beach their vessels for lunch. The
boys were exhausted. Their tempers were short. The wind never stopped and
the waves continue to drench the boys as they resumed their journey after
lunch.  Finally, Gunner pointed to a clear spot on the shore and signaled
that was their overnight camping area.

The boys set up their tents. The cooking crew got to work cooking and the
wood gathering crew gathered enough wood for dinner and the evening. As
dinner was cooking the boys jumped into the lake with their clothes
on. They attempted to get their clothes clean while still
dressed. Everything stunk. They used the soap to wash themselves and their
clothes. When they were done, their once white clothes were dark gray;
their tennis shoes stunk to high heaven but at least they were clean. They
sat around the camp fire in shorts while their clothes dry.

By the time it was dark and they had finished eating, no one was interested
in sex or anything else except sleep. They crawled into bed and fell into
the sleep of the dead. They were so tired they couldn't even get boned let
alone jerk off.

Morning came quickly. Their clothes were clean, kind of, well not really,
but at least they weren't covered with thick, smelly mud anymore. The day
started like yesterday. There were strong headwinds, choppy water and
portages. This time the portages were not as bad as before but still they
had lots of mud to contend with. Like yesterday, once they reached their
campsite, they bathed, eat and fell asleep.

The next morning the wind had disappeared and it was sunny and warm. As the
sun climbed so did the boys' spirts. They were still tired from the last
two days but they were rested enough so they could tease each other and
play around as they paddled toward their next campsite.  Even a portage
didn't dampen their spirts. It was a short one with some mud but no downed
trees and a low hill.  Life looked good as they looked for a camping place.

After six hours of hard canoeing, Gunner pointed out a spot to camp for the
night. The camp sport was a small peninsular, covered with mostly grass
with a few trees. The land was low, barely above the lake water. The boys
pitched their tents in a circle around the fire. The quickly gathered
firewood and started dinner.  After dinner some of the boys fished while
the rest just rested on the ground or in their tents, exhausted after two
miserable days of paddling.

The sun was just setting when there was a yell.

"I got one and it's a big fucking one" yelled Jackson his fishing pole bed
over on itself.  All of the boys looked at him as he fought the fish.

The line zipped out of Jackson's spinning reel as the fish dove for deeper
water. Advice was coming from all the boys, most of it useless."

"Keep the line tight."

"Don't pull him up too fast.

"You're going to lose him if you're not careful."

Finally, Jackson said. "Shut up you guys and someone get a net."

By now all the boys were surrounding Jackson as the fish fought for his
life. A net was produced and the boys waited until the fish was close
enough to scoop up. It took two attempts but the almost fifteen pound
northern pike was finally landed.

"Can we eat him?" Jackson asked Gunner.

"You clean it and you can eat it" responded the quiet leader. "Just
remember, northern are not a great eating fish. They have lots of bones
unless you filet them right"

"I think I will throw him back" said the proud boy "but, first, a picture."

Gunner produced a camera and the boys gathered around Jackson as the
pictures were taken. Gunner took a few shorts of Jackson holding his trophy
and only then was the fish released to fight again.

As the boys settled down around the fire, Gunner yelled "Heads up guys. I
have news for you. It is Thursday and we have been on the water for 28
days. Saturday, we end the trip. So you have tonight and tomorrow night and
then we are home. Tomorrow night we will have a last campfire meeting and I
will give out your necklaces. Bottom line, if you plan on being up late,
tonight is your last free night, guys."

The boys sat around the campfire disappointed that their adventure was fast
coming to an end. As each boy looked into the campfire, they remembered the
tough times they faced.

* The long days paddling in the sun:

* The arctic, cold water splashing over the bows of the canoes soaking and
their equipment in the canoe:

* The bear that almost ate their food until they scared him off:

* Fishing for some of the best eating fish in the world:

It was a hard but good trip. The boys didn't realize it at the time, but
when the trip was finally over; their parents would notice the
metamorphosis the boys had undergone over the past month.

The boys were tan. Not just tan but brown. The differences were striking
when you looked at their waist lines. Each had a snowy white ass outlined
by their dark mahogany backs.

The boys had lost whatever fat they had started the trip with. Their
physiques had morphed from boys into young men.  Now their young chests
popped out and you could easily see their pectoral muscles.  Their bellies
were taut and some of the boys even showed the beginning of a six pack, to
the extent a twelve year old could have a six pack. Their upper arms showed
the results of a month's pushing miles of water with their paddle. In the
beginning of the trip, they struggled to put a canoe over their heads, now
it was no effort. The boys were buff.

Their personalities had also changed. Their parents would see more
confident boys. They had overcome serious obstacles. They had carried on
when they were exhausted. They had traveled miles by canoe, in some of the
most isolated lakes in North America. If they got hurt or ill, there wasn't
a hospital or doctor near them. If they lost a paddle or their food, they
were on their own. They were confident and independent young men.

Even their sexuality had undergone a change. In the beginning of the trip,
they didn't know nor understand the power of sex. In the beginning, the
idea of jacking off with another boy was, for most of them, repugnant. The
idea of actual sex was well beyond anything they could have concocted in
their young minds. For some of the boys, it took a while to come to grips
with the fact they liked someone playing with their cocks.

Now none of the boys had any issues with nudity. Their modesty no longer
extended to someone, in this group at least, seeing their cocks erect.
Their reticence did not extend to touching another guy dick.

In the future none of the boys would declare themselves gay. A couple would
acknowledge they were bi but none of them regretted the sexual play with
their friends during their northern venture.

"Well," said Luke as he gripped his engorged cock in his shorts." I want to
get fucked, so who is up for riding my ass?"