Always a good day that starts with Meat and Tater at my door. Even when Meat's on a rant.
"I want to know what the Sam Hill is going on SJ! I've been welcoming boaters the first Saturday in October since the last century. Well my calendar said October 1 last Saturday but no water and no rafters. What the Sam Hill!?!"
I herded them into the living room and a couple of chairs and offered Tater some coffee. Meat obviously didn't need anymore.
"We hiked all the way to the falls Saturday morning expecting a show. All we saw was the locals scraping down. I didn't hike all the way in there in the rain just to see Clinton and Gerald. And where were you?"
Tater jumped in "It was more of a misty drizzle, really. Cold though."
I brought the coffee pot in and a clean mug for Tater and poured. She shrugged, "I tried to tell him. But you know how that goes."
It's easy to understand Meat's confusion. He's right. The first Saturday in October has meant whitewater releases since the late 1980s in Elkhorn City. But an improvement brought a calendar change this year. After years of lobbying from local and whitewater organizations, the corp agreed to add Friday releases on the first and fourth release weekends. We've had them for a while now.
But the corps mandate directive says they don't start the fall drawdown before October 1. This year that happened to be on a Saturday which meant the first release day, Friday, had to wait until this weekend. Got that?
Meat didn't. "I just want to know who the Sam Hill got whitewater season cancelled. What are they gonna do, just draw it down after dark in November? How'd you let this happen SJ?"
"It's okay Meat, we didn't let it happen. Things change. Forget the first Saturday in October. The releases start on the first Friday in October now, that's all."
Meat looked a little shocked, then his eyes misted up and I thought he was going to cry. He sniffed that back with a look of relief. "You don't need to remind me things change. Loretta Lynn is gone. Do you know how many songs she had banned from the radio? More than any of those pretenders you listen to."
I looked at Tater. "Is that true?" She nodded, "Oh, yeah. She sang the truth and that was more than they could take."
"You know brother Mitch introduced her on the Grand Ole Opry when he was the World's Youngest Disc-Jockey. Legend has it was the first time she sang Coal Miner's Daughter there."
"No way" said Tater. "Way" said I. Meat brightened up and winked at me. "I think you've made up enough tales today. But he was pretty good for a five year old."
"I haven't made up anything yet, but it's early. I'd say if you want to see some boaters, head up toward Rat Hole and you won't be disappointed."
I'm going to head that way myself and see if my boat still floats. It's been a while.