Back when I was in high school (a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away) I had a good buddy who's family had a camp on Bayou Gauche about 40 miles S.W. of New Orleans. Felix and I practically lived at the camp during the summer, and most weekends during the school year. The camp was equipped with a few pirogues, including an ancient cypress log dugout, and a 14 ft. plywood bateau (flat bottom skiff) powered by an inboard 9 h.p. Briggs & Stratton engine.

Now there's not much in the way of surf in the bayou country. And certainly no sliding down snow covered slopes. But we knocked the legs off of my mom's old wood ironing board, drilled a hole in the front end for a rope, and tied that sucker behind the bateau for some bayou surfing. The challenge was to ride the board, standing up, from the dock at the camp to the big Live Oak a half mile down the bayou, and back, without falling off. Of course, it was the duty of the boat operator to try to throw the rider with zigs and zags. The real tricky part was the turn around at the oak.

Good times. Good memories. Damn, I need to give Felix a call.