When I was eight or nine, I took a trip up north with my brother, my father And my uncle We woke up early and packed bagged lunches And cans of pop into a cooler, And drove to a canoe rental in Mesick We split up in two canoes I imagined us as Lewis and Clark, Charting acres of unspoiled land As the Manistee opened up like a canvas We crawled at a slow, lazy pace And reached the landing as the sun began to slide Behind the horizon, And pulled our boats ashore It was still warm and we were exhausted So we jumped into the water to cool off, As my uncle launched into a speech About the history of the Petoskey stone And how rare it would be to find any here Then he reached into the river bed And pulled one out on his very first try We spent the rest of our time trying to find another one But came up empty-handed