A North Country icon
Several years ago, I visited friends at their camp on Cranberry Lake. They invited me to take their vintage guideboat out for a spin, something I had never done before, so I jumped at the opportunity. In I climbed and gave a good yank on the oars, since any rowboat I’d ever been in had needed a lot of back to get anywhere.
Two things happened: First, I smashed my knuckles together, because I failed to observe that the oars overlap (this, apparently, is an initiation rite for all neophytes to the world of guideboat piloting). Second, with that one pull the vessel and I shot halfway across the bay we were on, gliding to
