Wolf Creek was suppose to be just another stop; one of those small streams that I frequently sleep on. Though when I pulled into the creek, I was immediately followed by a john boat cruising up the stream. The crew of two older hillbillies and one young roughneck came up to me and asked how and what I was doing. After explaining, Niki, the Tarzan of Kentucky, offered me a shot of tequila. Since I am not in the habit of refusing a pretty girl in a bikini, I said yes and the night started from there. Exactly what a roughneck is I am not sure but I am sure she would be the prototypical roughneck. Before I arrived, she had spotted me from her perch thirty feet up in a tree and alerted the two hillbillies, Stiff and Eddie, to my arrival. Stiff was a man of sixty five with the energy of a fifteen year old. He would use weird, colorful sayings that, to tell you the truth, I did not even understand. Him and Niki made this couple of sorts; Stiff if you're out there I hope you didn't eat those lifesavers after you were done. Eddie was a good guy; he was about the same age as Stiff and recently divorced. He was the new owner of a local tavern. It was a nice place; we went and played a couple games of pool and drank some beers. Afterwards he gave me a place to stay in his trailer. The night was filled with so many funny moments. From Niki wearing garbage bags as shoes to stiff and his St. Bernard jokes. I enjoyed myself a lot in rural eastern Kentucky. Who would have thought, two hillbillies, one roughneck and a paddler from PA. Only on the river.
