Aquachopper Expeditions.

2004.

Our first amphibious ride. We rode to Ross Island, camped overnight, and returned to civilization the next day.

It started to rain just as we reached the river. We convinced ourselves that we knew what we were doing and floundered across.

All the rides, people, and supplies made it to the island, although some were more submerged than planned. Once we arrived, we agreed that it was one of the stupidest things that we had ever done.

This new world was very entertaining. We looked for treasure, sang around the fire, swam, and ate and drank well. Sandy made a spooky burning will-o-the-wisp raft and towed it around the river, and the prince of the hydrochuds visited.

It rained all night, which means that there were floaters in the river on our way back due to the "combined sewage outflow".

Riding the Willamette made us feel free and strong.

The Swamp Thing has adjustable nacelles - high on land, so the bike can lean, low on water, so the paddlewheel is halfway in.

These are not the first nautical adventures of the Swamp Thing; someone once hucked it off of a bridge into a swamp. We were tipped off about its general location, but we had to play Claw Machine with our grappling hook before we snagged it.

Last ride of the Little Big Man.

Ninja made the Little Big Man years ago, and then left it in B's yard. He'd fix it up whenever he was in town and ride it until something broke down again. Then he'd throw it back on the pile and tell B to keep an eye on it. We tried to get rid of it. We gave it away and it came back. It sat on the curb for a month, but everything worth taking was already taken and the scrappers didn't visit for some reason. We gave it to someone from Shift to raffle off, and the raffle winner wrote me to ask for help in putting some wheels and a chain on it, then left it on the sidewalk right where it came from before I could tell her to get the hell away!

Finally, B had the perfect idea of taking it to Ross Island and leaving it there. We have seen the last of it. Now the hydrochuds worship it at night.

The Hesperus, the Swamp Thing, the Little Big Man, Sandy's unicycle, Denk and Shanaynay's, um, thing, and Peter's bag.

Peter's bag was a plastic balloon with a kraft paper covering that had been a cargo cushion from a truck. It didn't float very well after the paper got waterlogged, but B and Avery got to sleep in it.

Sandy had an innertube hanging off of his shoulders by suspenders, and tethered the unicycle to that.

2006.

2007.

Last time out, I hadn't put the paddlewheel blades on the Ross Island Explorer yet, only the half-inch angle iron bases. The paddlewheel was a little high in the water, too. With no centerboard, my body as a sail on top of that tallbike, and a wind from downstream which was faster than the current, I ended up being blown off course to Hardtack Island.

Along with adding the blades, I turned the rear pontoons upside down so I could uncap them and take in some water, which lowered the paddlewheel. It is okay to open a old chemical drum in the river if you're over a toxic waste dump, just upstream of a Superfund site, and looking at a sewer pipe five feet in diameter, though.

The blades worked really well; I broke six spokes this year and the wheel is toast. This is unfortunate because I had to clamp and unclamp those damn vice grips 64 times just to tack them on.

Also new are the cables between the lower dropouts and the pontoon stays. These improved the handling on land, stopped the chains from getting knocked off when everything flexed, and reduced stress on the rear wheel.