Off-Topic: Aquapocalypse Now!

This past weekend my pal Bob and I went on an epic 300+ mile journey from one end of the vast Lake Roosevelt to the other in an old school motor boat, a journey that I will now think of as “That One Time When That Bear Almost Ate Me.”

A little background: Lake Roosevelt is a 150 mile long reservoir in Washington State that was created when Grand Coulee Dam plugged up the mighty Columbia River. This flooded valley extends from the scenic desert canyons around the dam all the way up into the dry pine hills near the Canadian border, where the line between lake and river blur. It winds through national forest land and Indian reservations, so there is relatively little human development on the lake itself.

Our goal was to travel from one extreme of the lake to the other in our little motorboat the Red Sled while camping on the lakeshore and avoiding dangerous wildlife. We had beer, some food, some fuel, sunglasses, baby wipes, and Cybershark.

Thank God we had Cybershark. As the box copy informs us, Cybershark is “the most terrifying cyborg of the future” – as opposed to the most terrifying cyborg of the Renaissance, I guess. It is a remote control shark that looks and moves like a real shark – but with glowing red eyes. It dives, it surfaces, it thrashes its tail around, and it fixes you with those red, burning eyes. We enjoyed making Cybershark swim under the boat and surface from the depths. Plus – the remote control is water proof! It’s fantastic – order your Cybershark today!

Anyway, we had the usual mishaps and misadventures and near disasters that usually occur when Bob and I go on an adventure together, and this time was no different.

We were investigating these winding stream-fed inlets along the shores of the lake one evening. The sun was low in the sky, and as we slowly maneuvered the boat up through these side canyons the filtered light made everything mysterious and primeval, just like the Jungle Boat ride at Disneyland. We would get back as far as we could in these twisting canyons, slowly turn the Sled around… and then haul ass full throttle out of the inlet, just like James Bond in Moonraker.

We were looking for inlets that were suitable for Moonraker action when we saw the bear at the head of the inlet. Bob shouted “BEAR!” and we gunned the engine, scaring it off – go figure. Thinking that we had disturbed its meal, we decided to wait and see if it came back.

We backed the boat into this very narrow inlet and cut the engine. The water was only three or four feet deep, and we had about ten feet of room on each side. Tight fit. We sat quietly, cameras ready.

The bear did return, and it wasn’t happy to see us. It was a black bear, maybe a couple hundred pounds – not huge, but big enough to fuck you up real bad. For the next hour or so, as it got darker, the bear stalked us through the underbrush on each side of the inlet, glaring at us and making intimidating guttural noises. We were psyched.

The bear, which Bob called The Old Man and I called Mr. Chocolate, became progressively more agitated, and worked his way closer and closer to the boat, which offered illusionary protection from the beast. I figure it could have gotten from the shore and into our boat in all of two seconds.

Mr. Chocolate worked himself up, snorting and growling, until he got so pissed that he bluff charged our boat twice.

That picture over there is Mr. Chocolate beginning the second of his two fake charges, which were more than a little terrifying. I have one of the charges on video, and you can hear me uttering a deeply heartfelt “oh shit” when Mr. Chocolate gets frisky. At least I didn’t scream like a little girl. Like Bob.

After a while, Bob and I left Mr. Chocolate to his meal and went off in search for a campsite – on the other side of the lake.

Anyway we had a great time, and it inspired me to plan even greater and more stupid expeditions in the future. More than once this weekend I felt like a combination of Lewis & Clark and Miami Vice’s Sonny Crockett.

Next time I’m bringing my Best of Jan Hammer CD.