SHE IS EXQUISITE, wonderfully responsive to my touch, and eager to please me any way she can. She is Intrepid,
the canoe my father and I built twenty-four years ago during a long, hard Wisconsin winter.Intrepid
was a labor of love, assembled meticulously rib by rib in our drafty wooden barn because my father, John Summers, was a meticulous man. Joints had to be seamless; weight distribution exact; surfaces sanded silky smooth; and we had to use tools one at a time and return them to their designated hook or drawer before we could use the next one. My father allotted just one hour a day for the project, but...