adventures of a canoelover

We had a fun evening placing pots of purple loostrife beetles in the marshes around Upper Mud Lake. The damselflies were hatching and colorless tenerals were landing on our arms, paddles, gunwales, hands, and anywhere else they could land. It was cool.

When we got back to the shop, there were Orange Bluets (Enallagma signatum) milling around on the duckweed. It was hard to get a decent picture because they’re so territorial right now that if one sat down to rest, another one was there to chase him away. I did the best I can. Not entirely in focus but I had a few seconds to snap this before another O.B. chased him off.

Whitney thinks it’s funny that my blog turns into an Odonatefest during the summer. Whitney can think whatever she wants, I love the odonates and will keep posting as long as they supply me with good material.

Respectfully submitted,

Canoelover

“Bad writers … are nearly always haunted by the notion that Latin or Greek words are grander than Saxon ones.” – George Orwell

That’s an interesting notion. Having a classics background, I suppose I tend to lean on Latinate words a bit more than I should. It’s not to sound more ed-yoo-ma-kated or anything, it’s unfortunately just the way I talk. I think I need a little more Saxon in my life.

So I will no longer say erudite. I will instead say smart. I will say cow instead of beef. Sweat instead of perspire. Dog, not hound. As far as that wonderful word for sexual union, I’ll stay with the more clinical copulate rather than the vulgar Saxon term. Actually, I’ll dismiss them both for the Motownian term getting it on.

Linguistically yers,

Canoelover

1) Really great people. I am always amazed at the quality of individuals that kayaking attracts. The whole Wagon Trail was full of paddlers in various stages of wetness (bone dry to skank-dripping neoprene), skill level (never seen a kayak to having circumnavigated Ireland), and age (eight to eighty literally). The one quality that did not vary was the warmth of their smiles, the hugs and high-fives, and the fact that everyone looks beautiful and radiant by campfire light. It is the most flattering of all lighting, I believe.

2) Really great paddling. The weather was interesting this last weekend. Really interesting. The winds were sometimes wicked, and the direction was almost arbitrary. 15-20 gusting to 30 from the south created some really tasty waves and swells that challenged quite a few beginners. I was lead guide on one trip with 25 novices, and going with the wind it took every ounce of restraint not to catch the 4-footers and just ride them all the way to Cana Island lighthouse. I showed remarkable restraint.

One of my favorite moments was when I stayed back with Frankie, a novice paddler who would qualify for AARP membership, refused a tow three different times as she paddled into waves over her head. I convinced her she was safe enough with me there to rescue her, so she said she’d keep plugging away. She did, and I couldn’t be more proud of her.

3) Door County Bakery and a thing called Corsica Bread. It is to die for. It is worth dying for. I have never tasted bread so good outside Italy. We ate five pounds of it over a three day period and burned it off paddling.

4) Getting the Cetus wet. I received my Cetus on Tuesday, a week ago tomorrow, and it went straight onto the van. I hadn’t paddled one since last year at the Symposium, after which I ordered one immediately. After a year wait, here she is.

Carbon-Kevlar hull and deck…strong, light, and fast. Totally predictable in following seas, surfs like a champ, fast in rough water, and comfortable to boot. I can’t say enough good things about this kayak. She did get some nice scratches on both the deck and the hull, so she’s broken in nicely.

Oh yeah…she’s pretty too.

1) My xD card. It went pfffftt, taking 120 really great pictures with it. I did not bring my laptop so I could not download them every night. My mistake, it’ll never happen again.

This is why I still have film cameras.

The neighbors think the neighborhood is starting to look like a tenement.

This is a post from my crackberry, something that scares me a little since it’s really easy to say something embarrassing, like “pubic” instead of “public.”. Typing on this keyboard requires arachnoid digits otherwise it’s like typing on a regular keyboard with a bratwurst.

Anyway…day one of the Door County Sea Kayak Symposium. Great day, great paddling, new friends. Pictures forthcoming in a few days.

Respectfully submitted,

Kayaklover (at least this weekend)

Life is good. Talk to you next week…

Canoe(and kayak)lover

Could these be River Bluets? They’re a species of concern, and damsels are scary-difficult to identify, even with a picture and a lot of looking. The problem is that their taxonomy is so subtle and the differences between them so small. So it could be a River Bluet (Enallagma anna). They probably are. But you never know.

Respectfully submitted,

Canoelover

My silly daughter. She got a hold of my label maker and started going nuts. Our friend Megan had the misfortune of being in the house when the labels started flying. Tongue. Uvula. Duodenum. Elbow.

No one escaped the carnage. I was tagged myself in a shameless display of disrespect for her elders.

It is, however, inaccurate. It ain’t exactly a bald spot. That would require hair around it.

Ben Lawry visited us this week to teach some master classes—forward stroke, core kayaking skills, etc. Great stuff, and I was lucky enough to take a few hours and sit in on the first half of the forward stroke clinic. So I’m really good on my left side but my right side sucks. Or something like that.

We also spent a good bit of time just hanging out. Ben cooked breakfast for us. In true English fashion, he fried everything in sight. We had a little bacon fat left over so Ben fried us some bread. Yes. Friend slices of bread. It was actually really good.

Yummy.

Kayak camp runs every week all summer, and I love it. Lots of young people running around in PFDs, excited about life and paddling and everything. These young ladies were waiting for the rest of their group to get ready and were being silly. I asked them if they were really strong.

This was their response.

It gives me hope for the future generations of paddlers.

….see ya in a week or three.

Canoelover