Boat Ramp Scavenger Hunts

Here’s a new summertime activity that works well with pandemic-inspired desire for social distancing: collecting boat ramps!

Just kidding, sort of. Here’s what it actually is. As some of you know, I’ve been working for several years as a freelance contractor for our state conservation agency providing writing and editorial services for one portion of its website. As I’ve used the site over the years, I’ve noticed that of the hundreds of conservation, natural, and fishing access areas that appear among the “Places to Go” on their website, several don’t have a representational photo—like, not even a thumbnail image to appear as you scroll through the lists of search results. (And a few are kind of lame—like a closeup photo of the area’s sign.)

Mostly, the ones that don’t have photos are access points along rivers (boat ramps—so not very compelling, photographically), and community lakes where the state agency has a partnership with the local government (so, not 100 percent the state agency’s job to promote). Still, it’s the web, and you know . . . pictures!

Anyway, since I have a camera that takes pretty okay pictures (good enough for web, anyway, and in some cases equal or better than the ones used on the website) . . . and since I can edit that part of the site (although I’m not in charge of it), I’ve been adding pictures here and there for the areas that need them. Yeah, for free. In fact, until recently, they invited users to upload their own photos, so it’s not like I’m going crazy here.

It started a few years ago, when I’d use the site myself to find directions and noted there was no image. Well, since we would be there, I might as well take a few clicks and provide a pic here and there.

And so Sue and I have been taking little excursions on weekends. I make a list of places that don’t yet have pictures, we figure out an itinerary, and off we go. We see how many boat ramps and backwoods public lands we can visit in an afternoon. It’s been quite an adventure, connecting these dots, going places we’ve never been before, occasionally missing a turn from one gravel county road onto another because the road sign has been knocked over and is laying in the weeds (Osage County, I’m talking about you) . . . but you know. Adventures.

We’ve seen a lot of beautiful places.

And a lot of boat ramps.

LOTS of boat ramps.

. . . All manner of boat ramps.

We usually have a picnic while we’re at it. It’s easy to find a pleasant place to sit.

It’s nice to get out of the house and do something together. We take pictures of all manner of beautiful and strange nature things. Then we go home and try to identify what we've seen, if it's something new.

Fun fact: this is a lot like something else we did when we first moved back to Missouri—we were living in Columbia, and Sue had never lived there before, and I thought she should get to know the university better. So many buildings! So we made a scavenger hunt out of visiting and entering every campus building we could. Why not? Those are public places, and we’re Missouri residents and taxpayers! Also, many of the buildings at the University of Missouri are beautiful examples of nineteenth- and early twentieth-century public architecture, so it’s a treat to step inside them.

We had a campus map and a checklist. Also, irreverent but in a nondestructive way, we had a roll of adhesive paper dots that we used to mark our conquests. In multiple-story buildings, we sought to put one dot on each floor. We made sure no one saw us while we were marking the buildings this way, and we’d stick the dots in odd, not-quite-conspicuous places. The tops or sides of door frames. The side of a light fixture. The top edge of an elevator door. A few times, in plain sight, but on a surface where the heads of screws, for example, created a pattern where one more little round circle wouldn’t draw notice. I think we might’ve put one above a switch on a classroom’s light-switch plate, which looked like someone might have marked “this switch” as somehow special.

We only put the dots onto metal or painted stuff, nothing that was finished wood. . . . I wonder how many of those are still there. I wonder if other people discovered these dots and wondered about their significance. Hah. We ought to make a new project of going back to those buildings and looking for the dots. We even put them on the parking structures.

We didn’t finish our little project—we didn’t conquer the University of Missouri. But we had fun walking around that beautiful campus in a lot of majestic buildings, marking them as “ours” in an exceedingly mild way. Just like we're having fun visiting all these boat ramps.

I hope you're having a fun summer, and that you're all staying safe and well.