The summers following my junior and senior years at Western, the brothers of Lambda Chi went canoeing. We traveled the Pine River over two days. We paddled, stopped for lunch, paddled some more, interacted with other canoeing enthusiasts, camped, cooked out, and drank beer. At least thirty guys made each trip. The Fox was my canoeing partner. The trip was full of adventure and exploration. Traveling any river has its potential perils, but traveling with your college “brothers” adds to the experience. Some brought tents, but most of us planned to sleep on the ground with only the stars for cover.
I recall three distinct episodes worth sharing. All are a sign of the times.
One of the two years after we stopped to set up camp, a few of us decided to explore the area. Brother Smith and I stumbled across what appeared to be an abandoned cabin in the woods. The door was unlocked, so we ventured in. During our exploration we discovered two canvas cots and decided to borrow them for the evening. We took them back to our camp, set them up for a restful sleep off the ground, and returned them the next day. When we attempted to replace them where we found them, the cabin door was locked, so we left them in an adjoining shed. I’m still not sure if we inadvertently locked the cabin when we left the prior evening, or if the owner came home, discovered our entry, and locked it himself. While the mystery remains, brother Smith and I had a restful night.
On one of the trips, the keen-eyed Fox spied a bra hanging from a tree near a bend in the river. No one but the owner can be sure how it found itself so misplaced. We directed our vessel towards the tree. The Fox made a short climb to retrieve his prize and tossed it to me. While I can’t recall if that’s when he fell in the river, or if it was later on the trip, I have pictures to document both the fall and his catch.
During much of the 60’s, and the Viet Nam era, all males were required to register for the “selective service system” within thirty days of their eighteenth birthday. Mine fell on May 29, 1965 as I was graduating from high school. After registering, I received a “student deferment” and maintained my military status throughout my college years.
I graduated from Western in early June of 1969. One of my “brothers”, Jeff, got married the week-end after graduation in Alpena. I returned to Royal Oak for the summer following the wedding. Upon my arrival I found a letter to report for a military physical . I was ordered to report to Detroit’s Fort Wayne on August 11th.
As life moved forward my report date fell on the Monday morning after the week-end of the 1969 canoe trip. I drank beer and sat in a wet bathing suit for much of the week-end. If you’ve never experienced such a physical, the process is pretty simple. You, and one to two hundred other guys, are asked to strip down to your jockey shorts and shoes. No socks. You carry your valuables in a military issued brown paper bag and process through a series of prods, pokes, pees in a cup, and at some point are asked to “bend over and spread em”. A Staff Sargent walks down the line and checks each spread. My cheeks were red from the beer and wet, so I failed my physical, which meant I wasn’t fit for military service. I was called back in November for another look, but that’s a tale for another day. (No pun intended.)
The canoe trip with the brothers of Lambda Chi, and my resulting red rear, delayed my reclassification for military service and, perhaps, changed my life forever.