Page 16 - July_2014

out & about THE OVER-THE-HILL GANG SURVIVES THE ALLAGASH
By John Morton

I

nNovember of 1968, I was delighted to be facing
mont, Dan and Dennis would represent Minnesota, was so stiff he tripped getting out of the canoe and
an exhausting trip from Fort Benning, Georgia George, after an academic career in Montana had re- ended up in the water. We struggled to set up camp be-
to Alaska because most of my classmates from located to New Hampshire, and David, as a long-time fore an approaching squall. Terry restored our positive
the Infantry Officer’s Basic Course were headed
Maine resident, would fill the role of “local guide.”
attitudes with a terrific venison stew and French bread.
to Ranger School, followed by a couple of months in The weeks sped by and before long I was rum- Stories and joking flew around the campfire until the

Fort Polk, La., then to a combat tour in Vietnam. I had maging through mildewed camping gear and untan- black flies attacked with a vengeance. We agreed to call
finagled an assignment to the Modern Winter Biath- gling ancient fishing line in a last minute panic to get it a day and stumbled into our tents. It was 7:30 p.m.
lon Training Center at Fort Richardson, just outside ready. Five of us descended on David’s house in Maine From that first evening, the trip kept getting bet-
of Anchorage. There I joined less than 20 other for- to pack for the trip, catch up with buddies we hadn’t ter. Even Terry and I capsizing in the Chase Rapids
mer college skiers who had been selected to train for seen (in some cases) for decades, feast on lobsters and had a positive outcome since we emerged wet and

the Military Ski Championships, the Biathlon World steamed clams and swap stories about our adventures cold, but otherwise unscathed, and it provided the
Championships and the Winter Olympics.
in Alaska almost 50 years ago. It is truly remarkable other four plenty of fodder for ridicule for the dura-
Although we were all grateful to be in Alaska, how individuals experiencing the same event, years tion of the trip.
rather than Southeast Asia, it was not a cushy assign- ago, can have completely different memories of what Our third night on the river, Terry presented a
ment. The training was intense, often involving three actually happened.
bottle of adult beverage which he had skillfully con-

exhausting workouts a day, and the competition was The drive from the central coast to the start of cealed in his pack. As he poured into our camping
fierce. Although on one level we were all friends and our canoe trip just northwest of Baxter State Park was mugs he proposed a toast to the five former teammates
teammates, it was never forgotten that only six of us illuminating in terms of just how big Maine is and how we had lost this past year. This got everyone’s atten-
would earn a trip to the World Championships or the much of the interior is undeveloped forest land.
tion since few of us had been aware of all five. We rem-
Olympics. As a result, we competed at everything: how We loaded our gear and launched the canoes inisced about our teammates, acknowledged how fast

many kilometers we skied in training, who won the soon after noon at the southern end of Chamberlin the years have flown, and expressed gratitude for the
weekly time trails, even who was first in the chow line.
Lake. After weeks of anticipation and the long drive, it outdoor experiences and friendships we have enjoyed.
After our military service, many of us remained was great to finally be on the water, at least for the first
friends and stayed in contact while others fell out of few minutes — until we paddled into the open lake and
touch, although a love of the outdoors, especially Nor- into a stiff headwind. In spite of the decades, the old

dic skiing, remained a common interest.
competitive instinct kicked in and the heavily loaded John Morton is a former Olympic
Last fall, Terry Aldrich who had recently retired canoes struggled against the wind and the choppy wa- biathlete and Nordic ski coach. He lives in
from a career as a ski coach at Middlebury College, e- ter for three hours.
mailed proposing an adventure: six of us old biathletes Although none of us had called “Uncle,” there Thetford Center where he designs Nordic
would reunite for a week-long paddle the length of were no complaints when David paddled toward the ski trails. You can reach him through his
website, mortontrails.com.
Maine’s famous, nearly 100-mile Allagash Wilderness Gravel Beach campsite. My shoulders were so sore I
Waterway. In addition to Terry and myself from Ver-
doubted I could get my backpack out of the boat. Dan

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