July 6, 2003

The Tortoise and the Hair(y squirrel)

On the way to the launch I managed to miss two squirrels and three turtles in the road. The squirrels were near kills as they darted back and forth and couldn't decide which way to go. The turtles were an easy miss. They just stood their ground and it was easy to drive around them. I even imagined they hissed at my car as I drove by. It made me think about their approaches to life. One quick, with life or death based on instant decisions. One slow and methodical, often stopping to get the lay of the land. It might explain why I often see more squished squirrels than turtles.

As I arrived at the Launch, Gar was taking out after having his new Shadow out for a test run. We swapped carries to and from the parking lot. That Shadow is a heavy kayak...

And it was hot. Steaming hot and only going to get hotter. When Joan arrived we carried her kayak to the water's edge and I made a last minute grab for my sail. We set off for a little indentation on my GPS near Deale. We wouldn't make it, but we would give it a good try. As we rounded Curtis Point I took out the sail. The wind wasn't pushing me along much, but the shade from the sail helped a great deal.

After a few miles a cloud started forming over us and helped protect us till we almost reached Franklin Manor. We chatted with a few locals walking their dogs and one woman asked us for kayak advice.

After lunch we headed back, but took a detour to explore Deep Creek. We only got in a short distance when I ran aground, but I backed out and followed some sticks that marked the twisty channel back further into the marsh. After following the creek as far as we could, we turned around just as the wind died. We began to cook as we paddled out of the creek. I only hoped we would find the wind again once back on the Bay.

There was a trickle of a breeze as we exited the creek. The wind had changed directions so I paddled further from shore and raised my sail again in hopes to catch a little bit of a ride. But it wasn't happening. I paddled further out and got a little push but not a lot. We passed a boat at anchor with a kayak strapped to the top. Near shore the owners were poking in to a creek in another kayak.

Just as the wind started to stiffen and I began to get a free ride, a power boat buzzed by with kids on an inner tube. They didn't get dangerously close, just close enough the wake made it a bit precarious with my sail up, so I stowed it away and once again focused on paddling. And paddle I did. I often found myself so into the paddling I'd zone out until my mind could no longer sense where Joan was and I would stop and wait for her to catch up. Gawd I love this Brent Reitz stroke.

We kept telling each other "we're almost back" and "not much further now" even though I don't think it made a difference to either of us. The sun was boiling and I declined to roll because I didn't want the salt drying in my shirt and chafing. The callus' on my hands had softened in the water and were beginning to blister.

We paused long enough near Deadwood Cove to look at a fence that had trapped several horseshoe crabs. The first time Joan and I had ever seen any alive. They clung to the netting, half out of the water, and kept walking the perimeter looking for an escape. But it was hot and we were ready to get off the water so we made a sprint to cross the channel and back along the marina. A guy pressure washing his boat could see how hot I was as he sprayed some mist in my direction to try and cool me off but it evaporated before it could reach me.

16 miles in blistering heat. I'm sure Joan was even more worn than I as she didn't have the advantage of a sail to push her along part of the way. But in all it was a lovely paddle. But I think next time, I'll wait till fall or early spring to agree to come back...

Woody