Gary Akin & Craig Daniels

Let me preface this story by saying that this entire account is totally fictitious. None of what follows actually ever, or will occur.

I work with a fellow named Craig Daniels who actually seems like a nice enough guy, He works hard and we work well together, he has a sharp wit, and can even occasionally make me laugh, which is an accomplishment if you knew where we worked. So one day I invited Craig on a kayak run with me. He was very enthusiastic to try something which might provide him an adrenaline rush and also introduce him to the great outdoors….

It was a DISASTER!

Craig emerged from that trip battered, beaten, bruised, bloodied, and water-logged. He swears to this day he will never participate in another outdoor activity with me. And HE never brings up our river adventure, though I enjoy reminding him of it occasionally just to hear him go off on another expletive filled tirade about me, whitewater, boulders, waterfalls, and basically everything outdoor related.

I’ve tried to make amends with Craig by suggesting perhaps a camping/fishing trip might be a better endeavor to introduce him to the marvels of nature. This led to our idea as to how our versions of the trip might transpire. We decided to write in daily journal format, each of us alternately reading the other’s entry and then making our own.

Craig’s Story, Day 1

Gary invites me on a fishing trip for a week. I uneasily accept, we walk thru some heavy brush until we reach our destination. I am scratched, bruised, & sweating but the view of the pond and mountains makes it worthwhile.

Gary’s Story, Day 1

Craig and I have been looking forward to this for some time. I’m hoping the trout will participate. I’m sure once he experiences a trout cooked over an open fire, on a wilderness pond, “Urban Boy” may become a “Mountain Man”.

Craig’s Story, Day 2

I am shaken awake by a blood curdling scream. I groggily open my eyes to a sight I didn’t care to see, Gary jumping bare-ass in the ice-cold water. “Jump in!” he screams, “It gets the blood pumping!” “Uh, no thanks, the curdling scream got my
heart beating”, I respond. Besides a camping trip is enough male bonding – frolicking naked in the water with another man – I am not willing to do.

Gary’s Story, Day 2

Arose this morning and took a refreshing dip. It’s places like this that really make me feel ALIVE! Craig is slow to get into the Mountain Mood.

Craig’s Story, Day 3

I am bleeding profusely! Surprisingly not from the plunge I took over the cliff, a cliff Gary assured me was only a small step. No the blood I lost is from these motherf%@#ing bugs! Could there be any more bugs? Gary seems to be happy about all these bugs. Gary is a jackass. More alarming than the blood loss is the fact our food is gone. The matches are too! “Frank Buck” assures me not to worry, he can catch the food and start a fire. I have an uneasy feeling.
P.S. What the hell is a caddis?

Gary’s Story, Day 3

I’m starting to wonder if trying to introduce Craig to the marvels of nature was a good idea. The hike in was practically a walk down a fairway, yet all I heard was bitching about the briars. When we reached the pond, an intense caddis hatch indicated we were in for a fishing opportunity that doesn’t come along too often. Craig’s response, “It’ll be the last f&@#ing time for me!”

Craig’s Story, Day 4

I swear, if I hear “caddis” one more time, I’m gonna pummel Gary’s ass!
(10:05 P.M.) Fighting cold + hunger pains I watch Gary try to start a fire thinking, “Shouldn’t we have brought matches. They’re not that big, we could have fit them in.” Sighing, Gary gives up his battle with the fire and says we’ll have to use our body heat to get warm.
(10:07 P.M.) I am 200 yards from the camp fighting hunger pains and frostbite, hoping I can stay awake to make sure numb-nuts doesn’t come near me. What a mistake this trip was.

Gary’s Story, Day 4

The trout have not been cooperating. Caddis imitations are not working, though the trout seem to be taking the naturals regularly. I’ll crack the code shortly I’m sure. It cooled off considerably last night. Clear,.. stars were out and a full moon! I heard a pack of coyotes working on the next ridge. Despite having to put up with Craig’s whining, I’m having a good time. It’s GREAT to be in the BIG WOODS.

Craig’s Story, Day 5

I awaken to Gary’s gleeful yelps. Startled I make sure he’s at a safe distance. I check to make sure my pants are still on. Thank God they are! Turns out Roland Martin has caught a trophy fish. He’s yelling he wants to get it mounted. Uh… We haven’t eaten in days, how about we eat it… Oh that’s right, he couldn’t get a fire started, so we can’t cook it, but hey they eat Sushi and that’s raw. How bad can it be? Clamoring to his side I am taken aback. This “trophy” appears to be a sardine! Did he smuggle a can in? If so, where is it? I bet the f&@#king hog ate it all. I really hate him. I don’t have time to write anymore as I need to spend my last precious hours on earth writing my will as I am now convinced I will not see my wife or civilization again! I feel it’s important to write though, so people know the real story of what happened here if somebody finds it… if the bears don’t ravage our remains. I’m not sure if its the hunger, but Gary looks delicious and seems to smell like rotisserie chicken.

Gary’s Story, Day 5

SUCCESS! I took HUGE BROOK TROUT today! No matter what else happens, this trip has been successful. This beauty is going “On the Wall”. It’s too bad that this was the only fish I took today. Tonight for supper I had to improvise. I made an awesome soup from leeks and wild mushrooms. Respecting Craig’s queasiness I don’t tell him that the mushrooms were found growing atop a pile of bear crap. Unfortunately we had to eat it cold because all the wood is still damp from that rain we had a couple weeks ago. I thought for a moment that Craig might be coming around. He wolfed down his soup and even paid notice to the rich, brown broth. But then… I was proven wrong when he commented, “I hope this was nourishing, because it sure tasted like shit!” Ungrateful Bastard! After all I do for him.. and another thing, I’m getting damned tired of him calling me “Frank f&@#king Buck”.

Craig’s Story, Day 6

Awoke to a monsoon! “Willard Scott” claimed it was only a ‘passing shower’. I wonder when passing showers started lasting 4 hours and the National Weather Service gave them names! “NutBag” struck out early this morning to look for some “game”. He’s been gone quite awhile – maybe he’s lost (although I’m sure we’re already lost) or maybe he’s been mauled by a bear. I lean up against a tree to catch some much needed sleep. In the next instant “Psycho” bursts from the underbrush chasing a rabbit. I’m caught off guard and nearly knock myself out on the tree limb above that I hit my head on when I spring up. I finally catch up with Frank Buck and the bunny. I have brandished a club, I had planned to use it on Gary, but if it helps us eat I’ll hold off. Well after an hour we still haven’t gotten his rabbit. Disgusted I start back, Gary yells, “Come on it’s the thrill of the hunt baby!” He is without a doubt the biggest idiot I’ve ever met. Thrill of the hunt? It’s a rabbit! Are we going to mug it in hopes it still has some Easter candy?

Gary’s Story, Day 6

Well a week of glorious weather couldn’t last. It rained pretty hard this morning and since I hate sitting in a canoe in the rain, almost as much as I hate DipShit’s incessant bitching, I decided today with the woods damp, I take advantage of the opportunity to use my stealth in quiet woods to perhaps kill some game. Besides, I HAD to get away from camp for awhile, before RIP VAN DANIELS awoke. My escape was a breeze. It was a great day ’til the damn rabbit I was pursuing ran right back to camp and ‘you know who’. At least tomorrow we pack out and this excursion to Hell will end.

Craig’s Story, Day 7

I loathe Gary! Today I was surprised to awaken. I figured last night when I closed my eyes I’d never open them again, unfortunately my last sight would have been “DoucheBag” bathing naked. (Should you take your clothes off that much – is he an African tribesman or what?) Alas, today we’re going home. But not without a final scare. Thundering through the woods is the biggest son of a bitch I’ve ever seen – SHE must be 6’8″, 300 lbs. with a full beard. Instinctively I hide. Gary approaches her, “She wouldn’t harm us,… she’s a fellow hunter”. I’ve never seen a hunter with a banana clip in the gun. I hide but to my surprise ‘assf&@#’ starts yelling to this behemoth. Feeling this serial killer will kill us any minute my only thought is that she does Gary first so I can have the pleasure of watching him suffer. Gary begins to tell her our story about hiking in to Trout Pond and the rest. She tells him this is WhyBother Pond and Trout Pond is 2 miles away. I f&@#kin knew it! Stupid f&@#ker had us lost! Gary tries to play it cool with, “Oh, that’s what I meant, WhyBother Pond. F&@#king Liar! She mercifully gives us some beef jerky and the directions out. God Bless Big Bertha! The directions are easy enough and within minutes I see the truck through the trees. Suddenly, Gary turns left and says, “It’s another mile or so!” “Um yeah, isn’t that our ride right there?” I say. Sheepishly Gary says, “Oh yeah”. Words cannot describe my hatred for “mountain man”. I stumble out of the woods sweaty, beaten, bruised and “C&$kbite” then has the gall to say, “That was fun, we should do it again”. I have two responses, the verbal one of, “Yeah maybe sometime we can.” Then there’s the mental one, “I wouldn’t go anywhere with you again even if my life depended on it. We should never speak of this trip again – I hope I don’t go to hell when I die, because you’ll certainly be there and I’ve just spent a week in hell with you!! LUNATIC!!

Gary’s Story, Day 7

You know… even rotten trips have their good moments. This trip’s was the moment it ended. Heading out we were fortunate enough to run into another outdoors enthusiast… and a woman at that. A thing of beauty, with outdoor skills maybe even the equivalent of my own,… why if I wasn’t married,… She was kind enough to straighten me out when I got ‘turned around’. It was all Craig’s fault! He kept questioning my route and saying, “Shouldn’t we be going THIS way?” Well all that turning around to search for him got me, I’ll confess, confused. And then wouldn’t you know it… when I finally got us within 100 yards of the truck he did it a again and… wouldn’t you know it… ‘ShitforBrains’ guessed right! That Bastard! I hate his gloating! I hate his whining! Navigational skills, my ass! I could point out to him that when the Great Western Expedition started,… they were led by Louis & Clark & DANIELS! But then DANIELS was gonna “go behind that tree over there” to take a crap, and was never seen again. Rumor has it he was sighted up near Hudson Bay… whining! But we finally do reach the truck and I witness something almost beyond words. “Urban Boy” falls, weeping uncontrollably, to his knees and starts kissing the ground, the truck, and I’m sure,… if I didn’t stop him, my feet would have been next. Finally… ‘jackass’ regains his composure. With the trip ended I force myself to offer congratulations to the helpless shell of a (man?) before me. “It was fun, let’s do it again”, I lie. I already know if he wants to go I’ll have to paint a birdhouse or something. But at least it’s over and I did get a trophy trout for the wall…. HEY… Where the hell is it? That rotten son of a bitch must have ate it!

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