Our friend, Ina Baker, surprised us by bringing a couple of "Bubba boys," Earle and Jimmy, to Idaho for a visit. She claimed they were her cousins, but by the end of the story I think you'll agree with me that she probably picked them up at Bellevue. To describe the pair of them, one of them is a big version and one is a small version of the Pillsbury dough boy; there is nothing of them that is not round, including their matching bald spots.

     To get the story going, we decided to go canoeing. We loaded up two canoes onto the back of my F350 and drove 10 miles up river to get dropped off at the boat ramp. Our plan was to take a leisurely afternoon float down the Salmon River from Challis to Rainbow's End Bed & Breakfast. The adventure began on the highway. As we crossed the bridge from town one of the canoes fell out of the truck. Sugar Plum had to take over the driving while I stood in the bed of the truck holding on to the canoes and my hat.

     We made it to the boat ramp. Got the canoes in the water and then instructed the Bubba boys to grab the paddles and wade out into the deeper part of the river before getting in the canoe. Meanwhile Thumper, my black and tan hound, and I jumped in the other canoe. Thumper took the front and I paddled in the back. Thumper and I weighed only about 250 pounds and didn't displace much water and could scoot through the water easily. On the other hand, the Bubba boys must have been pushing 600 pounds as a pair. They were having some trouble, make that a whole lot of trouble, getting afloat.

     Talking about overload, once they both settled in the canoe, you couldn't see but two inches of the canoe above waterline. I warned them as I paddled by, "Whatever you do, don't stand up! Keep the boat pointed straight down river and stay right behind me."

     I found myself talking to Thumper, "Those Bubba boys aren't going to make it." She wagged her tail in agreement. You have to understand she is an experienced river rat.

     As usual she took the bow and kept a keen eye out for boulders in the water, warning me with a woof when she spotted one in our path. I looked over my shoulder to check on the Bubba boys and started chuckling. "Thumper, maybe we should start calling them the Bobbsey Twins."

     All you could see were their heads bobbing up and down. About every quarter mile they would have to pull to shore to bail out the water. They were falling farther and farther behind.

     Most successful rowing teams develop a rhythm; they will row in unison for maximum efficiency. It can be like watching a ballet. Watching the Bubba boys on the other hand brought to mind the song, "Splish, Splash I was taking a bath." There was no poetry to their style; it was more like the Keystone Kops.

     Thumper and I finally pulled over in an eddy to wait for them to catch up. I started snacking on a sandwich. On the bank there was a rock chuck that had climbed on a log and was nattering at the Bubba boys, their own peanut gallery. I hollered at them to shape up because they had an audience.

     We all decided to pull up on the bank and have a little lunch. We saw the remnants of a '40 Ford five window coupe all rusty and riddled with bullet holes lying on the bank of the river with no roads anywhere. I told them that the car belonged to an old moonshiner who went missing years ago. "Rumor had it that the revenuers ran him off the road on Highway 93 up river by Sunbeam. It wasn't until years later that his car showed up after the flood, the big flood. Go stick your head in the window of that old heap and you can still see his bones."

     Suddenly it dawned on them how remote they were. Jimmy said, "Tracker, I better not hear any banjos playing. This reminds me of 'Deliverance.'"

     They must have started getting paranoid because they wanted off the banks and back into the middle of the river where they would be safe. Ha! Was that a joke!

     I took the lead again after giving instructions, "Follow close behind me, boys. It is nice and calm here, but there is white water ahead."

     As long as the river was wide, it was nice and calm and there wasn't much current. We even had the opportunity to see three deer feeding along that bank. The group, including a 40 inch buck, waded across the river right in front of our canoes. "Is this great, or what! I hope you got a picture of that."

     "Put your camera away. White water ahead!" As the river narrowed, the water not only got fast, but deep and created white capped swells. This was Thumper's favorite part; she loves riding the roller coaster.

     There were steep cliffs on both sides of us that funneled the river. We had to paddle for control, but not for speed. The river sent you into high gear as if you kicked in the turbo chargers. I made the big mistake of looking over my shoulder to check on the Bubba boys. Big mistake! I hit a rock and the whole boat came out of the river and flipped in the air. I landed in the water with paddle in hand. Thumper thought it was fun, and she just swam right back to the overturned canoe and jumped on top of it.

     Meanwhile the Bubba boys had their own trouble. I had warned them earlier to stay away from dead fall, but did they listen? No! They realized too late what was happening. No matter how hard they paddled, they couldn't stop from being swept under. In a matter of seconds, whoosh, they were gone. All of a sudden they popped up. Then they had to swim to catch the canoe. I grabbed their gear as it floated by. There the three of us were soaking wet, while Thumper stood on the canoe baying at us as if to say, "You guys did that all wrong."

     I was just glad they were still alive. I guess it pays to be buoyant.

     We shook off that train wreck and continued on down the river like nothing happened. Earle said to me, "Tracker, don't tell Ina. She'll never let us play with you again."

     I worried about explaining how we got soaked, but Mother Nature was looking out for us. As we approached Rainbow's End, there was thunder, lightning, and a cloud burst which drenched us to the bone. That was the perfect cover up. No one would know what really happened. . .until now!