Wow.  We must really be in the boonies…  If the only way to the Island of Indian Artifacts is by canoe, and our intrepid columnist has to “see that <he gets> a copy of the paper when the article runs…”  With all the late breaking world changing news in the pipeline, though, it could be weeks (?) before that Story makes its way to page 5…

But back to the Trail clan…  Let’s review the visual clues in Panel 2.  They have “made portage,” yet water is to their backs.  Did they walk on this water while carrying their canoes?  I thought canoes were made for water, floated nicely and do a splendid job of carrying passenger and gear.  Big Pine Lake is 1 mile that-a-way, which is where I guess they need to haul the canoes next?  Doc is bent over in a heap declaring how “heavy canoes can be,” yet it looks like he “portaged” it 20 feet from the shore??

Meanwhile, Cherry is copping total attitude, looking almost disdainful of her aging father’s attempt to do what probably came easier to him in his thirties…

Anyone seen Rusty??

What exactly is Mr Dunlap doing in the first panel?  It’s either that or he’s on some early rustic, prototype version of the Chuck Norris “Total Gym…”  Besides, what does an old man really need after all?  Some seed for the bird feeder, a pair of Jeans, a nice blue, civil war era shirt, a pair of suspenders and a ready supply of adult diapers…  Going to retire?  It looks like you have already crossed that Bridge, my friend… And what was his business anyway?

Note the Strong, White-guy handshake being exhibited in panel three.  “Mr Logan…  Mr. Dunlap…”  Why, Minneapolis’s own recently former Mayor Turned Activist contributed to an op-ed piece yesterday suggesting that the achievement gap could be solved if this maneuver was more prevalent among at-risk youth.  That, and pulling their pants up…

But seriously, folks…  Where’s Rusty?  A brief mention of his “being with a friend,” and not only is that preposterous notion not challenged, but the whole clan takes a powder on him!

Ah, Dr. Wilheit, I presume… I hear you know more about Native Americans than ANYBODY ELSE…  That’s a tall claim, Slim, and one that he no doubt has to defend every time he gathers with the other anthropologists that might know a thing or two about arrowheads and birch canoes…  Speaking of which, since when are birch canoes GREEN?

Well, let’s apply the age-old maxim to value:  It’s only worth what someone else is willing to pay for it…  Is it possible that there is someone out there crazy enough about arrowheads to write you a big fat check?  Or more likely will you have to set up shop on e-Bay and sell things piecemeal?  A dealer perhaps?  But I get ahead of myself.  Where’s the taught possibility of evil in this build up?  I am not feeling it right now…  Old man with collection looking to do good, local journalist looking fill column inches with something other than the usual pap, Mark, Andy, Cherry and Doc lazing down the river in canoes… I am not feeling it.  Not yet.

Is it me, or does this guy look like SOS John Kerry (or maybe his father…)?

They left Rusty behind!  Probably didn’t even leave a note!  It’s a bright, crisp day when Mark, Cherry and Doc finally make good on their pact of ditching the lad that has brought them nothing but head-splitting, cringe-worthy dialogue and narrowness of interest… “Want to go fishing?  Can I take some pictures?  Want to go fishing? Can I take some pictures?”  Seriously, who can blame them?

Ah, the subtleness with which new stories are introduced…  No call from Editor Bill Ellis this time, just a quick cut to two strangers- one apparently a reporter (gee, that’s different…) the other a member of the The First Nation of Human Beings, resplendent in his Cornflower Blue Tunic and suspenders.   What exactly is that style, anyway?  Looks like a pain in the ass to me…  Or is he actually a Native American? Or just a poser?  An enthusiast? Someone with a collection disorder (bordering on OCD, so I am told) that needs to make his affliction public…

Prove helpful to whom?  Oh, the tension mounts…