Several years ago an elderly lady asked me what I wanted to do before I died.

“Canoe the Missouri River,” I said.

“Live your passion, young man! Live your passion!”

Actually, my only passion at the time was keeping my cholesterol level below 200 and paying my alimony on time. But, I didn’t forget her sage advice.

After reading “Undaunted Courage,” a story about the Lewis and Clark expedition, I have wanted to canoe the upper Missouri River. In their journals, they described seeing purple mountains, endless plains and beautiful rivers.

I don’t know why I didn’t take the trip years ago. Timing is everything in life. Now, I know the answer. I wanted to wait until gasoline went to $4.30 per gallon. It’s my way. If it were raining soup, my bowl would be upside down.

With my $600 stimulus check from Uncle Sam enroute, I suddenly felt rich. I decided to blow it all at one time.

Pat Goodin and I flew to Jackson Hole, Wy., rented a car and headed over Teton Pass into Idaho destined for Montana’s Big Sky Country and the Missouri River.

At Great Falls, where Lewis and Clark portaged their canoes 18 1/2 miles around five water falls, we stocked up on fried chicken and big joe potatoes before striking out for Fort Benton, once a fur trading post on the bank of the Missouri River. It was there, while sitting on a park bench munching on chicken and big joe’s, that we hooked up with Mike, an outfitter.

“I don’t need a guide, only a canoe,” I said.

“Do you have experience?”

“Ohhhh sure.”

He rented us a canoe, two paddles and two life preservers. We loaded into his pick-up and rode 15 miles up the river to Carter’s Ferry.

“You’ll have to sign this,” Mike said, shoving a waiver at me. It didn’t even guarantee to fish our corpses out of the water. We were on our own. We signed.

“That’ll be seventy-five dollars,” said Mike. “And in cash.”