Mike and I spent many hours on this old boat. One September Sunday we set out to run the snake by Bruno. We were launching boat, dam we forgot the pan to cook with, Mike says no problem I got fire skills. Off we go I drive one arm , Mike the next. Tunes and beer all at full flow, up the river we go, looking for camping spots as we go. We eye a spot that looks good for camping and lunch. Mike finds a spot hid from the wind to build his blaze, first Time ever Mike and fire did not come be, the dogs and chili came to a stop. The wind has turned cold, off to the boat on with the top. My Mr heat tent heater was in the boat from any earlier camping trip, Mike fires it up as we move up the river. Now it's getting toasty in the front of the boat, we realize the heater could cook the dogs, we need some skewers. Mike finds a broken fishing pole tip, wham we have skewers. Soon Mike had the dogs lining the face of that tent heater, like a rosterier grill. he perfect rolled each one, to that golden brown. We had eaten those mediocre SBar beef hotdogs dozen of times before, but this day they were the best we ever had them. I remember my friend through things done or given, Mike loved driving my old boat, it now carries a permanent reminder of him in a scratch. One he and I would have repaired one day before hitting the Lake, now it will stay as is. No one I know packed more life into each day.