While social media can be entertaining, it can also be overwhelming. I found myself in a funk from the bombardment of hate and horror scenes from around the world, and thus I made a snap decision to head into the backcountry for some unplugged time. Now, I just learned to kayak, but what the heck, outfitting a kayak couldn’t be much different from fitting out a hiking bag, right!?! I mean, how hard could it be? Here is the proof about my impulsivity and recklessness that I may have mentioned before.
A quick review of my hiking gear and a short trip to top up some of my supplies and I was ready. I was confident that I could take more with me in a kayak than I could hike in, so small conveniences started piling up in my gear. A string of solar lights, extra water and even a camp chair were previously unheard-of luxuries. Even a paperback novel passed muster. I naively decided that I didn’t need a test run for stowing the gear in the kayak and making sure it wouldn’t sink, no worries, I got this! Next up, figuring out how to put the new kayak rack on the car and which I had yet to test on the highway. No problem, it was not far, just about an hour to get to Massasagua provincial park, up a highway with a wobbly kayak on top. It is just about the time that I am driving ninety with traffic zipping along beside me, keeping a close eye on that bright red kayak that seems to be inching farther down the front of my roof, that common sense pipes up and suggests that this could have been better planned out. Luckily, little impulsive personality shoves common sense back down and we are pulling up to the park entrance.
I wasn’t expecting such an audience, as several groups of people were either unloading or just setting out. Of course, I made a great introduction when I lost control of my kayak as I pulled if off the car. A loud bang rang out across the still lake, and all heads turned towards me. Sigh. Next step was to fit everything in that kayak. By the time I had loaded everything on top and in the kayak, it was decidedly low in the water. A young boy had been sitting on the dock watching me, and I looked at him and inquired if he thought it would stay afloat. His answer was not reassuring, as he grinned and shook his head several times. I sidled up the kayak, hoping that I would not topple off into the water. Several panicked moments and there I was, sitting mostly in the kayak. My feet hung over the sides as there was no room for my legs, and the water line was a mere few fingers distance below the lip of my boat. I spent the next hour balancing on my gear, trying to steer what feels like a bathtub around the lake, and loving every moment. The peace and quiet, sunshine sparking on the water, and the warm breeze had all released the tension in my body.
Eventually I came to my site, a lonely little spot jutting out into the lake. A small stone beach made it easy for me to roll off my kayak. I set up under a small copse of oak trees with a few out onto the lake. I grabbed my chair and book and set myself up a short distance down the beach to enjoy my solitude. A sharp “bang” had me jumping, as the only metal up at my site was the bear storage unit. I sat up and stared at my site, but the deep shadows had me unable to see what might be happening. Then another bang, but this one around the bend where my kayak was. By now I am getting frazzled but determined to find out if there was a bear at my site. I folded up my camp chair and held it like a spear, flimsy paperback in the other hand like some kind of sad shield. Cautiously I made my way to the spot under the trees, heart hammering in my chest, and found…nothing. I stood, looking around in bewilderment. Nothing looked touched. Huh. That is when I was hit in the head, by an acorn thrown by a screeching red squirrel sitting above my head. His challenge was met by a chittering chipmunk on the other side of my tent. Acorns rained down as more rodents chased each other and I realized my tent was set up in between two warring factions. The entertainment would continue well into the night.
I sat in my chair, staring out over the lake as the shadows began to lengthen. A sound from above and behind me, the sound of powerful muscles powering the wings of a bald eagle that flew just above my head. A few minutes later a flock of Canadian goose flew into the last of the sun’s rays, turning their white feathers golden. Closer by small fish broke the water’s surface, small circles spreading out in ripples. A great blue heron stood in the shallows, long sharp beak ready to stab the waters for a fish meal. I started a small fire as darkness began to lay heavy in the forest and watched the yellow and orange flames keep back the darkness. I slept well despite the occasional nut that bounced off my tent and woke the next morning to the sunrise in the east, my heart and mind at peace.