Saturday August 2
You know it’s going to be a good day when your guide shows up to a river paddle wearing crisp, white pants. Enter: Ranger Deb—fearless leader, fashion icon, and organizer of our six-person voyage down New Jersey’s Basto River in the heart of the Pine Barrens.
The crew? An all-star lineup: Deb’s boyfriend Mike (calm in a crisis), her brother Dave ( hazard avenger and Earl of emergencies), sister-in-law Marie (brave soul), and niece Ally (secretly the most competent of us all as her kayak was a 14′ sea kayak). Then there was me—I was born ready..but Not born patient. The group has a bet whether I’d get injured first or fall into the water.
Step 1: The Shuttle of Doom
Before paddles even touched water, we embarked on the most treacherous part of the trip: the vehicle shuttle. It was long, sandy, pot holed and somehow uphill both ways. If there were a Trail of Tears for pickup trucks, this would be it. After strategically ditching cars and loading gear, we were ready to launch at Quaker Bridge, hopeful and only mildly sweaty.
Step 2: Into the Wild
The Basto River, despite sounding like a pasta dish, is a beautiful, narrow, winding stream that apparently doesn’t believe in straight lines or unobstructed passages. The water level was high—great for floating, less great for steering. Paddling wasn’t really necessary unless you wanted to avoid being clotheslined by branches or wedged under a downed tree.
Navigation involved equal parts ducking, yelling “LOW BRANCH!” or “canard”and sacrificing dignity for balance. At one point, Deb executed a maneuver so graceful I’m convinced she moonlights as a kayak ballerina. Her white pants, miraculously, remained untouched.
Step 3: Tree Obstacle Course (a.k.a. Upper Body Day)
Every turn brought a new challenge: leaning trees, half-sunken logs, and the occasional invisible spider web to the face (my personal favorite). We became experts in reverse paddling, strategic wedging, and screaming “WATCH YOUR HEAD!” with just the right amount of panic.
Dave tried to lasso a branch with his paddle and never lost his infamous orange hat. Mike narrated his own survival documentary. Marie and Ally became the dynamic duo of dodging debris. I learned that screaming “I’m stuck!” doesn’t help when no one can stop laughing long enough to assist.
Step 4: The Great Float to the Finish
Eventually, the chaos mellowed into a peaceful float. The trees arched overhead like a cathedral of moss and sunlight, the water sparkled with that mysterious Pine Barrens tea color, and even the bugs seemed to chill out for a moment.
No one capsized(in our group). No one lost a shoe. Ranger Deb’s white pants emerged from the wild, somehow cleaner than before. We reached the takeout point four hours later tired, triumphant, and only slightly tangled in foliage.
Conclusion: 10/10 Would Paddle Again
Sure, I now have a greater fear of low-hanging branches and an even deeper respect for Deb’s laundry skills—but I also have memories of a wild, weird, wonderful day in the Pine Barrens.
And if you ever get the chance to paddle with Ranger Deb, do it. Just… maybe don’t wear white.
disclaimer-Deb did indeed dress properly. No white pants. Its an old joke from ski patrol that got her that moniker.
