Music Welcome to snoozecast. The podcast is designed to help you fall asleep. Find us at snoozecast.com And if you enjoy our show, please share us with a friend. This episode is brought to you by A Cheerful Blaze. Tonight we'll read another excerpt from Woodcraft published by George Washington Sears under the pen name Nessmuck. Sears was a writer and adventure who penned essays on hunting, fishing, and camping for popular journals and magazines. This chapter is called canoeing. In contemporary times, the author lives on not just through his writing, but through his canoe. In fact, one of the most celebrated canoes in American canoeing annals and referred to as the Nessmuck. Historic replicas of this canoe can be purchased so that canoeists can paddle in one just like the one commissioned by the author for his famous 1880 Adirondack cruise. This type of craft has come to be generically known as the Adirondack Pact canoe and is the best way to obtain the smallest, lightest solo recreation paddle craft. Incredibly handy to paddle and transport,

the Nessmuck is still known to surprise paddlers with their quickness and seeworthiness. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. Relax your body into the solveness of your bed. Now, take a few deep breaths. Chapter 9. Canewing. The light canoe and double blade. Various canoes various canoeists, reasons for preferring the clinker-built cedar. The canoe is coming to the front, and canoeing is gaining rapidly in popular favor in spite of the disparaging remark that a canoe is a poor man's yacht. The canoe editor of Forest and Stream pertinently says, We may as properly call a bicycle the poor man's express train. But suppose it is the poor man's yacht.

Are we to be debaard from aquatic sports because we are not rich? And are we such weak flunkies as to be ashamed of poverty? Or to attempt shams and subterfuges to hide it? For myself, I freely accept the imputation.

Incomment. future to hide it. For myself, I freely accept the imputation. In common with nine tenths of my fellow citizens I am poor, and the canoe is my yacht, as it would be where I am millionaire. We are a nation of many millions, and comparatively, few of us are rich enough to support a yacht, let alone the fact that not one man in fifty lives near enough to yawting waters to make such an acquisition desirable or feasible even. It is different with the canoe. A man like myself may live in the back woods.

A hundred... even. It is different with the canoe. A man like myself may live in the back woods, a hundred miles from a decent sized inland lake, and much further from the sea coast, and yet be an enthusiastic canoeist. For instance, last July I made my preparations for a canoe cruise and spun out with as little delay as possible. I had pitched on the Adironda axis cruising ground and had more than 250 miles of railroads and buckboards to take before launching the canoe on Moose River. She was carried 13 miles over the Browns Tract Road on the head of her skipper, cruised from the western side of the wilderness to the lower St. Regis on the east side, cruised back again by a somewhat different route, was taken home to Pennsylvania on the cars, 250 miles, sent back to her builder, St. Lawrence County, New York, over 300 miles, then spy railed to New York City, where the last I heard of her, she was on exhibition

at the Forest and Stream Office.

She took her chances in the baggage car, with no special care, and is today, so far as

I know, staunch and tight.

not a check in our frail signing.