November 3, 2007 – 8:11 am
With the beginnings of November in full force, I find myself fighting an annual depression. Some people suffer from SAD but I’m not so concerned about a lack of sunlight as much as a lack of liquid water. I was told last year that kayaking over an extremely thin layer of ice, say 1 mm, sounds like windchimes and I should go out for an early morning paddle when I know the layer is on. So I naively set out to hear the sounds and after putting my rather new fiberglass boat into the water, began to paddle toward the ice. I don’t know what it sounds like when a ship runs into an iceberg or even when a car runs into a guardrail, but I think the sound of kayak on ice comes pretty close. So my fun and games are coming to an end pretty soon, and I’ll be relegated to my two local kayak clubs and their pool sessions. Yes, geeking out is the norm.
Now it’s time to drag out the snowboard and skis and pretend I’m 15 again.
November 3, 2007 – 7:56 am
This post is from last JULY. That’s how on top of things I am. It’s November. I lose.
I spent all last weekend at the Glorious Door County Sea Kayak Symposium. I think this must be my equivalent to mainlining cocaine because I would have done damn near anything to get me some more. I am deeply, passionately in love. And for the record, I’ve never even seen cocaine but a little shock-value hyperbole does a body good.
I got choked up at my 11 PM arrival just seeing all the cars with boat racks on them, not to mention a zillion kayaks littering the ground in the moonlight. So many boats, so little time… So anyway, I got my BCU 2-star (hey, you have to start somewhere) and will go for my 3-star either later this summer or first thing next summer. Knowing that my high brace is, truly, a high brace thrills me to no end. Realizing that I can do a sculling brace with my head in the actual water made me want to yell for more. Getting slammed by a very heavy 23 MPH headwind with 30+ MPH gusts, and living to type about it, makes me giggle like a school girl. Damn straight I was scared at first - it’s always very helpful when you get the 25 ft. towline OUT of the water and secured to your deck before continuing on - but I was in good hands and knew there was beer on shore somewhere. I have seen beer.
It was gorgeous. It was in the woods and water.
And now I’m in Orlando at a sales conference - believe me the irony isn’t lost on me. I am going to be back on the water the moment my plane lands back in MN… More later since I have to get back to Micky and the gang. Dear God save me.
I am getting ready to leave for the Door County Sea Kayak Symposium. Of course I had to buy new shoes (I’m a girl) and I had to buy some dry pants - if anyone has a preference between Gore Tex with gaskets and just plain old neoprene, can you give me your feedback? I got the GT but I don’t know if I’m going to like it since I plan on getting very wet and very @#$% cold - Door County, WI (that funky peninsula on the eastern side of WI, jutting into Lake Michigan) is expecting a high of 69 degrees this weekend. I’m such a freeze baby, but hopefully this will mean some good waves. I hope to come back a) Alive, and b) With Stories to Tell. As cheesy as it sounds, I’m seriously excited to see all the boats on people’s cars - you know how you get closer to the water or an event, and you see others with boat gear on their roof racks, and even the boats themselves? Kind of like a horse smelling the barn. I’m excited to talk Kayak (Sea AND Whitewater) all weekend long.
I’m really sad though, because one of our local whitewater superstars is hosting a clinic on Saturday and I won’t be here. I’ve been trying to get to one all summer long and evidently the stars are not aligning in my favor. He’s got a playboat and I want to learn how to do it - I think that it’ll feel pretty nimble compared to my big boat and I can’t wait to see how the skills cross over. All this whitewater talk has got me chomping on the bit to try it, and I hear there are at least 3 rivers within 2 hours of Minneapolis that are worth paddling - they open up sometime in late February, too! (And now once again I’m struck with the reality that I do, indeed, live in a very cold climate. My bubble breaketh.) Can you kayak down ski hills?
My daughter has just decided, after day 1, that she loves whitewater kayaking. Granted she’s still having trouble with wet exits, but she’ll get there - she’s the kind of kid that screeches and recoils if you even fake it that you’re going to tickle her, and that’s even after you’ve told her that you’re going to fake it and won’t actually touch her. Anyway, I reminded her that she needed to talk to the water, to feel its movement and to respond to its cues; work with it to do what you want to do, because if you work against it you’re down for the drown. Her tone became a “yeah, whatEVER” and I let it go.
But isn’t that what you have to do both in your boat and in your life? I’m not saying that you leave everything in life up to the whim of outside forces - on the river or the lake or the sea, wherever you go, you need to pick a direction! But if the current says you’ll have to veer left and circle around before you can end up off to the right side, it’s a good idea to listen. Or you can bomb it and roll and mash your head on a rock and pop up thinking you’re really awesome. You get to choose the path.
Maybe once you reach a certain age (more about that in another post) you start to wonder where you’ll get if you work WITH the elements. So I stand by the comment I made to my kid. Talk to the water and when it talks back, listen. Now go to your room.
This being my first blog on worldkayakblogs, I’m stepping gingerly into the mix. I’m a sea kayaker in MN, where we only have water for what feels like a small portion of the year. I can verify that we only have warm water for a few short months. So as I sit here with a sore rotator cuff and fiberglass in my left knee (I hate when my padding falls off) I’ll just take a small break from the day job to say that I’ve never loved hot, humid, pit-of-hell weather more. My boat has been out all weekend long and she’s very happy about it. I own a P & H Quest LV, orange with yellow bungies, and she’s a racehorse.
I was told last fall that when the ice is paper thin, you can paddle through it and it will sound like windchimes - sounds lovely, yes? So I brought my new boat out on micro-thin ice and proceeded to paddle along. Do not believe the windchime myth; it sounds like an icebreaker losing the battle. I am landlocked and I live in a cold climate, but I persevere.
My boat is a long one, but I have a hell of a lot of respect for you crazies who really know how to play in the waves. My aim is to become one of you someday but for now, I’ll just noodle around and live vicariously through your posts.