8:52 p.m. September 12, 2015
Logan: What time do I need to be there tomorrow?
Me: Maybe 9:30-10? The later it is, the choppier the water is
Logan: I'll probably leave my house at around 8:30
Me: Yeah, that sounds fine
Logan: Ugh I'm so excited. I think I'm going to go to bed right now so it will get here faster
My eyes open and I roll over to look at the clock.
9:10
I blink at the time before I realize.. Logan will be here any minute. *Gasp* He could be here right now! Oh my God. I leap out of bed and throw on some shorts. My mother pokes her head in my door and says, "Sweetie, what time is Logan supposed to arrive?"
I take a breath of relief and say, "I don't know, probably soon." I reach over my bed and look at my phone.
8:20 Logan: Well I'm leaving now
8:20 Logan: I'll see you in a bit
9:11 I'm like ten minutes away
"Actually, he'll be here in ten minutes," I say with a smile.
Mom nods and walks out. I finish getting dressed before walking outside to get everything ready. I hear Mom call to me as I walk out the door, "Paddle and life vests are already in the car!" I turn around and sit in the kitchen with her and Kirby.
Kirby is talking about the football games we missed last night and how his job "is really cutting into turn-up nights". I'm not paying attention, I just sit and watch out the window, waiting for Lo to pull up.
I walk over into the dining room to look for my shoes when I see a car pull into the front circle. A small squeal escapes my mouth and I smile over at my mother and say, "He's here." She rolls her eyes as I dance out the door to give him a hug.
"Welcome to my home!" I say as I wrap my arms around him.
"Jillianne, do not go down Alligator Alley. It's cold outside so they're probably all out and about enjoying this weather," my mother says as I fill up two water bottles.
"I think it's the opposite," Kirby chimes in, "They don't like the cold."
Mom gives him a glare and says, "No, there will be a ton of them, just waiting for a snack to drift by."
Lo pipes in, "I actually think this guy is right. They don't like cold. I think they'll just stay at the bottom."
I laugh nervously as I search for the lids that go with the bottles.
"Well, either way.." Mom can't finish her argument.
During the drive to the launch, I give Logan the tour of my town; telling him which bank is mine, the school I went to, where Mom works, Jane Todd's house, and the beach.
When we finally have the boats in the water, it's about 10:15. I've been kayaking during this time before and I was nervous when I realized I would be doing it again today. Normally at this time, the water starts to get wavy, making it difficult during certain stretches of the trip. But today seemed to have a different aura about it. The temperature was in the low 70s and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. There was a nice breeze but it didn't seem to affect the water at all. The water wasn't still, but it wasn't necessarily rough either, it seemed lovely. For a normal September day in the South, it couldn't be any less normal.
I push Logan out into the water and he tries to stay in place.
"Paddle out into the opening," I say.
"No, then I'll miss you. I'll sit and wait."
I laugh and sit in my kayak, scooting along into the water. Gliding past him, I head left out to the main water. He trails behind me as I tell him which way the golf course is and which way we'll be coming back from, "Just so you know where you are," I smile at him.
I look back and see Logan far behind. I put my paddle down and fold my hands in my lap, listening to the cicadas' humming fill the air. Normally in Mississippi, you can't see fall coming. There is no transition, you go to bed one day in the summer and wake up the next morning in the winter. Trees lose their leaves over night and what was once a lush green area becomes a dead brown spot all within the blink of an eye. But on that abnormal September morning, I could feel fall approaching. I looked up at the tops of the Pine trees that line the murky banks of this swamp and notice that the higher branches of needles have been dipped in shades of red and orange. The majority of the tree is still green, and I think I probably wouldn't have noticed the change in color if I hadn't stopped to look. Blades of grass that stick out above the water wave and dance as I drift, almost as if they are happy that I am back with them, enjoying this beautiful day in their company.
Logan catches up with me and says, "I need to up my game so we can paddle together."
I laugh and say, "I'll try to take it easy."
We begin making our way through Alligator Alley and Logan comments on the beauty. I nod but something next to me catches my eye. At first I thought it was just a fish, but it was too white. Then I thought it was a trash bag floating along, but when I focus on it through the dirty water, I realize: It's a jellyfish. "Logan!" I yell. "Look! Oh my gosh! It's a jellyfish! What?! I've never seen one before! Why is it here! Logan, look! Oh my gosh! Do you see it? What on Earth? Can you believe it? A jellyfish, Logan! Look! Wait, oh my gosh, come back! I need a picture. Logan, do you see it?!" I try to paddle back to find it as I whip out my camera. It dances along through the water, twirling in circles and pumping up and down below me. Logan makes his way over and watches it, not exactly sharing my same level of enthusiasm. "How have I never seen one before?" I ask as I admire it from afar.
Continuing down the alley, I spot another one. This one is red and much smaller than the last one. Logan smiles and says, "Would you look at that?"
As we paddle back around the island towards the house, Logan asks me how I know my way around so well, "Like, how did you find all of these little pathways and stuff?" I tell him how when I first got my kayak, Trea and I went out here everyday and just took a different route each time.
"So you mapped it out by just exploring?" he says.
I smile, "Yeah. I like it put that way."
As we get closer to the launch, Logan grabs the side of my kayak and thanks me for bringing him out here.
"I know how special this place is to you, and I appreciate the fact that you wanted to share it with me. This has been wonderful, truly," he says with a smile before leaning over and giving me a kiss. I smile and tell him that I hope he wants to come back sometime.
We pull up to the launch and take a breath. Logan sighs and says, "I don't want to stop, but I'm also really hungry."
I laugh and suggest a good place for lunch. I grab my paddle and look down into the water before I step out..
And there, dancing above the ground in the 6-inch deep water that sits in between Lo and I, is a jellyfish. My eyes widen and I smile, not having any words left to describe my joy. Logan smiles at it and then smiles at me, saying, "What a perfect way to end this perfect trip."
Showing posts with label alligators. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alligators. Show all posts
Thursday, September 17, 2015
Monday, September 7, 2015
Kayaking vs. Paddle Boarding
Yesterday someone asked me how many times I went kayaking over the summer. I cringed when I realized the answer. Once. Once! I went kayaking once over the summer. But, in my defense, I went paddle boarding multiple times. This doesn't make anything better and it leaves me feeling like I cheated on my beautiful Sun Burst. I like to think I have a pretty good idea of who I am, and if there is anything that I am sure of in this life, it's that I was given a new life when I sat in my kayak for the first time and that my heart will always belong in one. But lately, I have been spending more and more time with a paddle board. I haven't been doing this because I think it is better than kayaking, it's just a completely different experience.
Before everyone starts thinking I am going to change this blog to "BackOnTheBoard", let me explain:
The joys that come with kayaking have to do with comfort and versatility. When you're on a kayak, you're able to go to all sorts of places. The water conditions could be anywhere between the stillness of a bathtub to the anger of the Ocoee River, and you have a good chance of being okay while in a kayak. There is also the perk of having that back rest; when you find yourself in the presence of true beauty, there is nothing stopping you from sitting back, folding your hands in your lap, and letting the world pull you along. Finally, kayaks are safe and fast. When I found myself face to face with an alligator while balancing on a paddle board, one of the first things that came to mind was my kayak. A gator can flip a board with about the same level of struggle that comes with swimming. A kayak gives you way more balance and control.
Paddle boarding is the opposite, but that doesn't make it superior or inferior in any way. There is little comfort associated with paddle boarding, but there is liberation. While you aren't able to recline and drift, you are able to stand and stretch your arms to the sky leaving you feeling like you have acquired some power to stand on water. You can also fold your legs off the edge and just lie down (although I wouldn't recommend it, because you know, that's practically advertising yourself as gator bate) while watching the sky. Being on a board also gives you quite the workout without feeling like one at all. If you spend the entire trip standing, you're going to wake up the next morning with a sore tummy and some killer quads. They also make it easy to slip into the water and slip right back on to the board. If you fall out of a kayak, you have to do this kind of dance with it to get back in; a paddle board will stay with you as you easily pull yourself back up above the surface.
Both water sports have their ups and their downs. I can call them both relaxing, but I could give two very different arguments for why that is. At the end of the day, it depends on the person. Both are enjoyable, both have their stress levels, and both have their beauty. But when it comes down to it, I know where I belong.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Off The Yak
I've never been paddle boarding. But I've watched Jane Todd and Kayla do it plenty of times. I'm too lazy to put the kayak rack back on the car so I ask if I can go paddle boarding with Jane Todd rather than kayaking. No body sees why not.
The two of us drive over to the yacht club in the morning to pick them up. Jane Todd grabs the key to the shed while I slip a blanket on to the top of the car. I help her move boxes of styrofoam cups out of the way and then we heave the beasts out of the small room. The boards rest on the car with the fins sticking up towards the sky.
It's the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life. Once I slide onto mine and drift out into the water, I immediately start taking on water, I'm wobbling over to each side just enough to feel like I'm going to flip, and no matter how I paddle I start turning 180º. I'm uncomfortable but I know that if I try to adjust myself this board will be bottoms up. I look at Jane Todd. She makes it look so easy. She's jumping around, cruising farther away from me by the second.
"Jane Todd!" I cry out, "How do I make it work!"
She looks at me and laughs, "Well, for starters, you're on it backwards."
I look down at my feet and back at her, "Are you sure?"
"I'm positive."
Very cautiously, I turn myself around and start paddling.
It's a miracle! I'm flying! Okay, not really, but it's so much easier. The fin is in the back and I can do it!
Okay this is still the hardest thing I've ever done. We've gone a mile and I have gained zero confidence. Maybe I can stand.. Nope. That was a terrible idea. I'll just sit. No! I can do better than that! I'll just sit on my knees. That's basically the same thing as standing, right? Right.
Jane Todd is no where in sight. Wait, I think here mousey call.. "Jillianne?"
"I'm here!"
"Where?" she calls.
Jane Todd there's only one way you can go. I'll give you three guesses on where I am.
"Marco!" I scream.
A pause, "POLOOOO!"
I see her turning around the corner to join me as I struggle.
"How can you do this so easily?" I ask softly.
She smiles, "How can you kayak so easily?"
"I mean, I do it a lot."
"Exactly," she motions her hand over her board, "I feel the same."
We're coming up on Alligator Alley. I made it under the bridge with no problem and I'm improving my steering. Things are good.
All of sudden, I hear a hiss coming through the grassy swamps that are on our right. It sounds like a rustling, something is in there? I'm watching, sitting as still as I ever have in my life. Jane Todd's eyes are glued, my eyes are glued.. Fifteen feet in front of us, a full-grown, 7-foot, mama gator makes her way out of the grass and slinks into the water..right..in..front..of us.
Jane Todd looks and me and lets out a mix of a bloody murder cry and a laugh.
I smile meekly and say, "Well, we have to go that way, so. Let's just keep paddling."
I take the lead, paddling with the shallowest strokes this world has ever seen. I hadn't known fear until that moment. The idea of gliding directly over an alligator with my only protection being a 3-inch thick flat board of foam is an idea I hope none of you are ever presented with.
So we're cruising along. We've been out here for maybe three days? Kidding, three hours. And I'm killing it. I actually passed Jane Todd. Now she's way behind me screaming, "Wait!"
We arrive at the mouth of the Bay, the sun is warm, surprise surprise, Jane Todd is taking selfies and I'm not. We strip down to our bikinis and just lie on the boards, letting the current pull us wherever we need to go. As I'm relaxing, two pelicans fly over me. I wonder if maybe they are a couple, or if they are siblings, or maybe they're just two friends. Maybe the two of them are thinking the same thing about Jane Todd and me, "Look at those two humans, they have no idea what they're missing down there." I also start to think about how pelicans were no where to be seen when my mom was my age. She grew up in this area and she claims that the earth was being filled with these toxic chemicals that eventually drained out into the waters and began killing off all of these birds. Over time, the majestic pelican has made its return and now whenever my mom sees one, she squeals with happiness and says, "Look at that beautiful creature."
On our way back, we paddle by a house undergoing construction. The scene is filled with construction workers and they all smile and tip their heads as we glide by. One calls out to me, "Take me with you!" The others laugh but I smile and say, "I wish I could." Jane Todd gives me a grin, and I look onward as I follow the direction of another pelican flying overhead.
The two of us drive over to the yacht club in the morning to pick them up. Jane Todd grabs the key to the shed while I slip a blanket on to the top of the car. I help her move boxes of styrofoam cups out of the way and then we heave the beasts out of the small room. The boards rest on the car with the fins sticking up towards the sky.
It's the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life. Once I slide onto mine and drift out into the water, I immediately start taking on water, I'm wobbling over to each side just enough to feel like I'm going to flip, and no matter how I paddle I start turning 180º. I'm uncomfortable but I know that if I try to adjust myself this board will be bottoms up. I look at Jane Todd. She makes it look so easy. She's jumping around, cruising farther away from me by the second.
"Jane Todd!" I cry out, "How do I make it work!"
She looks at me and laughs, "Well, for starters, you're on it backwards."
I look down at my feet and back at her, "Are you sure?"
"I'm positive."
Very cautiously, I turn myself around and start paddling.
It's a miracle! I'm flying! Okay, not really, but it's so much easier. The fin is in the back and I can do it!
Okay this is still the hardest thing I've ever done. We've gone a mile and I have gained zero confidence. Maybe I can stand.. Nope. That was a terrible idea. I'll just sit. No! I can do better than that! I'll just sit on my knees. That's basically the same thing as standing, right? Right.
Jane Todd is no where in sight. Wait, I think here mousey call.. "Jillianne?"
"I'm here!"
"Where?" she calls.
Jane Todd there's only one way you can go. I'll give you three guesses on where I am.
"Marco!" I scream.
A pause, "POLOOOO!"
I see her turning around the corner to join me as I struggle.
"How can you do this so easily?" I ask softly.
She smiles, "How can you kayak so easily?"
"I mean, I do it a lot."
"Exactly," she motions her hand over her board, "I feel the same."
We're coming up on Alligator Alley. I made it under the bridge with no problem and I'm improving my steering. Things are good.
All of sudden, I hear a hiss coming through the grassy swamps that are on our right. It sounds like a rustling, something is in there? I'm watching, sitting as still as I ever have in my life. Jane Todd's eyes are glued, my eyes are glued.. Fifteen feet in front of us, a full-grown, 7-foot, mama gator makes her way out of the grass and slinks into the water..right..in..front..of us.
Jane Todd looks and me and lets out a mix of a bloody murder cry and a laugh.
I smile meekly and say, "Well, we have to go that way, so. Let's just keep paddling."
I take the lead, paddling with the shallowest strokes this world has ever seen. I hadn't known fear until that moment. The idea of gliding directly over an alligator with my only protection being a 3-inch thick flat board of foam is an idea I hope none of you are ever presented with.
So we're cruising along. We've been out here for maybe three days? Kidding, three hours. And I'm killing it. I actually passed Jane Todd. Now she's way behind me screaming, "Wait!"
We arrive at the mouth of the Bay, the sun is warm, surprise surprise, Jane Todd is taking selfies and I'm not. We strip down to our bikinis and just lie on the boards, letting the current pull us wherever we need to go. As I'm relaxing, two pelicans fly over me. I wonder if maybe they are a couple, or if they are siblings, or maybe they're just two friends. Maybe the two of them are thinking the same thing about Jane Todd and me, "Look at those two humans, they have no idea what they're missing down there." I also start to think about how pelicans were no where to be seen when my mom was my age. She grew up in this area and she claims that the earth was being filled with these toxic chemicals that eventually drained out into the waters and began killing off all of these birds. Over time, the majestic pelican has made its return and now whenever my mom sees one, she squeals with happiness and says, "Look at that beautiful creature."
On our way back, we paddle by a house undergoing construction. The scene is filled with construction workers and they all smile and tip their heads as we glide by. One calls out to me, "Take me with you!" The others laugh but I smile and say, "I wish I could." Jane Todd gives me a grin, and I look onward as I follow the direction of another pelican flying overhead.
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Madison
"Should we sing? I feel like we should sing," Madison calls out to me across the water.
"No, that's really -"
"WHEN THE MOON HITS YOUR EYE LIKE A BIG PIZZA PIE.... THAT'S AMORE," she belts out.
I quietly laugh and continue to paddle towards the bay.
"Am I doing better than Sarah Anne?" she asks, beginning the sibling rivalry.
I couldn't lie, "Honestly, yes. You are. I mean, nowadays, she is much better. But she's done it more often. But her first time? She sucked. She couldn't go straight, she had no idea. You, you're killing it."
"Sweet," she smiles ear to ear.
As we pass the common "No Wake" signs, I think of the first time Sarah Anne saw one and asked if they had to do with funerals. I figured Madison will know what they mean.
"No Wake? What does that mean? You can't wake anyone up? I guess I should apologize for singing so loudly earlier..."
As we're paddling towards the southern side of the Bay Bridge, rain clouds start to flood the sky. I bring this to Madison's attention and she seems pretty disappointed. I try to explain, "If it starts raining, and we're 2 miles away from the house... We are beyond screwed."
After hearing that, Madison begins to understand.
We turn the yaks around and watch a mullet hurl itself out from the water about ten feet away from Madison. She screams out, "FISH! Did you see that?!"
I laugh, "I did."
About two seconds later, it jumps out a second time, this time about five feet from Madison.
"They normally jump in sets of-"
The mullet jumps out again, flying seven feet in the air, and landing smack dab on the bow of her kayak and then flopping back into the water.
It takes a moment for us to register what we just witnessed.
"Madison!" I yell, unable to believe it.
"Oh oh oh ohhhhh ohh ohh ohhhhh oh, did you see that? It was like two feet away from landing in my kayak!"
"What would you have done!"
"I don't know! Probably jump out!"
I throw my head back laughing in agreement and applaud her for having the coolest experience I've ever seen while kayaking.
We stay where we are for a few moments, laughing and processing, before the clouds remind us that we need to head back.
While we pass through Alligator Alley, one of the residents has his sprinkler on. Part of its range includes a narrow part of the water. Madison takes this as an invitation. She smiles and says, "I'm going to go for it. Sprinkler time!"
I try to stop her, but it was too late. She is gliding right under the trail, soaking herself while laughing with glee, "YAY!"
"I'll have to move it closer next time," a man calls out from somewhere. I look up and see a man standing on the house's balcony. My face floods with red as I smile and apologize.
"Oh no, it's fine. Again, I'll move it closer next time for ya."
I smile at a silent and clearly embarrassed Madison and say, "You hear that, Madison? Next time."
She laughs quietly, avoiding looking at the man, "Next time."
"No, that's really -"
"WHEN THE MOON HITS YOUR EYE LIKE A BIG PIZZA PIE.... THAT'S AMORE," she belts out.
I quietly laugh and continue to paddle towards the bay.
"Am I doing better than Sarah Anne?" she asks, beginning the sibling rivalry.
I couldn't lie, "Honestly, yes. You are. I mean, nowadays, she is much better. But she's done it more often. But her first time? She sucked. She couldn't go straight, she had no idea. You, you're killing it."
"Sweet," she smiles ear to ear.
As we pass the common "No Wake" signs, I think of the first time Sarah Anne saw one and asked if they had to do with funerals. I figured Madison will know what they mean.
"No Wake? What does that mean? You can't wake anyone up? I guess I should apologize for singing so loudly earlier..."
As we're paddling towards the southern side of the Bay Bridge, rain clouds start to flood the sky. I bring this to Madison's attention and she seems pretty disappointed. I try to explain, "If it starts raining, and we're 2 miles away from the house... We are beyond screwed."
After hearing that, Madison begins to understand.
We turn the yaks around and watch a mullet hurl itself out from the water about ten feet away from Madison. She screams out, "FISH! Did you see that?!"
I laugh, "I did."
About two seconds later, it jumps out a second time, this time about five feet from Madison.
"They normally jump in sets of-"
The mullet jumps out again, flying seven feet in the air, and landing smack dab on the bow of her kayak and then flopping back into the water.
It takes a moment for us to register what we just witnessed.
"Madison!" I yell, unable to believe it.
"Oh oh oh ohhhhh ohh ohh ohhhhh oh, did you see that? It was like two feet away from landing in my kayak!"
"What would you have done!"
"I don't know! Probably jump out!"
I throw my head back laughing in agreement and applaud her for having the coolest experience I've ever seen while kayaking.
We stay where we are for a few moments, laughing and processing, before the clouds remind us that we need to head back.
While we pass through Alligator Alley, one of the residents has his sprinkler on. Part of its range includes a narrow part of the water. Madison takes this as an invitation. She smiles and says, "I'm going to go for it. Sprinkler time!"
I try to stop her, but it was too late. She is gliding right under the trail, soaking herself while laughing with glee, "YAY!"
"I'll have to move it closer next time," a man calls out from somewhere. I look up and see a man standing on the house's balcony. My face floods with red as I smile and apologize.
"Oh no, it's fine. Again, I'll move it closer next time for ya."
I smile at a silent and clearly embarrassed Madison and say, "You hear that, Madison? Next time."
She laughs quietly, avoiding looking at the man, "Next time."
Friday, May 15, 2015
Perfect Week: Day One
Once again, I come crawling to you all on my knees. I apologize for my absence. This last weekend I was in Austin, Texas and I was pretty preoccupied with my wonderful family. But school is now over, so I am faithfully yours.
This week is the week I embark on a "Perfect Week". A "Perfect Week" is when one goes kayaking, paddle boarding, water sporting, etc., for seven consecutive days. I attempted one this time last year, but unfortunately I only made it to day 6. Looking back, I have no idea why I didn't go on that seventh day. I think I ran out of friends who were willing to go with me. But this year is different. I have people on deck for each day, everything is set, all I have to do is hope for good weather. It's supposed to rain everyday this week, but where I live that usually just means afternoon showers. Like today, it was scheduled to rain all day, but it only rained for about five minutes around 1 o'clock. Not to mention, I've pretty much put all of my eggs into this one basket. This week is the only full week when I will be able to kayak everyday. Next week I'm flying to Atlanta to visit my father; and the first of June, I begin my nannying job, working from 8-5 each day. Ergo, this week is my only chance.
This morning at around 8 o'clock, Sarah Anne drives over to my house. My mother has the volvo, and the volvo has the kayak rack. Thankfully Sarah Anne is a dear friend, a dear friend who happens to have a truck. We throw the yaks in the back of the pick-up, collapse the paddles so they fit in the back seat, fill our water bottles, and we head away. It's weird having someone else drive to the kayak drop-off point. Out of all the times I've gone, I think I've had someone else drive me there only two times. But this is exciting, the weather is nice, temperature wise.
When we arrive, the small white dog who lives at the house is yapping away, alerting everyone in the neighborhood that the kayaking girl is back. The tide is in, and I mean in. It seems as if everything is underwater. Can something that's already underwater go underwater? When we pass one of the many "No Wake" signs, I notice that one of them is almost half-way submerged. That means that the water level rose about two feet. Two feet! We have to partake in the limbo to travel under the bridges and all of the docks are level with our kayaks. That fact is good and bad. If there was an alligator chasing our tails, we would be able to pull up to land no problem with the drop of a hat, but the alligator would be able to do the same.
Once we get to a certain point in the water the two of us begin to cheat at the system. The wind is strong and the water is practically flipping over at the chance to get us to where we want, so why should we resist? We put our paddles in our laps and recline back. Immediately we start to drift. The water does the work for us while the two of joke about bringing sails with us next time.
"I like it when we do this," Sarah Anne smiles.
"I think everyone likes this. Getting the same results with doing absolutely no work," I laugh.
Our cutting corners is quickly punished. Once we turn the corner, the tide is no longer with us and I start to feel like I'm trying to drive a parked car. This was a workout I never signed up for. The water that was once amiable and helpful had now become sassy and spiteful. But after thirty minutes, we make the distance that normally takes us five minutes. We get back to the house and cheerfully high-five one another for making it through.
This week is the week I embark on a "Perfect Week". A "Perfect Week" is when one goes kayaking, paddle boarding, water sporting, etc., for seven consecutive days. I attempted one this time last year, but unfortunately I only made it to day 6. Looking back, I have no idea why I didn't go on that seventh day. I think I ran out of friends who were willing to go with me. But this year is different. I have people on deck for each day, everything is set, all I have to do is hope for good weather. It's supposed to rain everyday this week, but where I live that usually just means afternoon showers. Like today, it was scheduled to rain all day, but it only rained for about five minutes around 1 o'clock. Not to mention, I've pretty much put all of my eggs into this one basket. This week is the only full week when I will be able to kayak everyday. Next week I'm flying to Atlanta to visit my father; and the first of June, I begin my nannying job, working from 8-5 each day. Ergo, this week is my only chance.
This morning at around 8 o'clock, Sarah Anne drives over to my house. My mother has the volvo, and the volvo has the kayak rack. Thankfully Sarah Anne is a dear friend, a dear friend who happens to have a truck. We throw the yaks in the back of the pick-up, collapse the paddles so they fit in the back seat, fill our water bottles, and we head away. It's weird having someone else drive to the kayak drop-off point. Out of all the times I've gone, I think I've had someone else drive me there only two times. But this is exciting, the weather is nice, temperature wise.
When we arrive, the small white dog who lives at the house is yapping away, alerting everyone in the neighborhood that the kayaking girl is back. The tide is in, and I mean in. It seems as if everything is underwater. Can something that's already underwater go underwater? When we pass one of the many "No Wake" signs, I notice that one of them is almost half-way submerged. That means that the water level rose about two feet. Two feet! We have to partake in the limbo to travel under the bridges and all of the docks are level with our kayaks. That fact is good and bad. If there was an alligator chasing our tails, we would be able to pull up to land no problem with the drop of a hat, but the alligator would be able to do the same.
Once we get to a certain point in the water the two of us begin to cheat at the system. The wind is strong and the water is practically flipping over at the chance to get us to where we want, so why should we resist? We put our paddles in our laps and recline back. Immediately we start to drift. The water does the work for us while the two of joke about bringing sails with us next time.
"I like it when we do this," Sarah Anne smiles.
"I think everyone likes this. Getting the same results with doing absolutely no work," I laugh.
Our cutting corners is quickly punished. Once we turn the corner, the tide is no longer with us and I start to feel like I'm trying to drive a parked car. This was a workout I never signed up for. The water that was once amiable and helpful had now become sassy and spiteful. But after thirty minutes, we make the distance that normally takes us five minutes. We get back to the house and cheerfully high-five one another for making it through.
Friday, May 1, 2015
GUEST SPEAKER: A Word From Sarah Anne
Attention all #backontheyak readers,
This is Sarah Anne. Maybe you remember me from some of Jillianne’s many kayaking excursions or maybe you don’t in which case this is awkward. Anyway, I don’t have much time before Jillianne notices that I’ve hacked into her blog, and I still need to tell you all the truth. You need to know the truth about kayaking.
When Jillianne first asked me to kayak with her, I was genuinely excited. Visions of high speed descents through raging rapids and close encounters with large boulders filled my mind and I was so happy knowing that we weren’t doing any of that. We would be enjoying a peaceful cruise over the consistently calm waters of Mallini’s. No daring escapades, no near death experiences, heck, we would even have life vests. It couldn’t have been better. Then the morning of our adventure arrived with the obnoxious shriek of my alarm clock. Blearily, I looked at the time. 6:30 a.m. It’s at times like this when I start to question my motivations in life. I am not a morning person and the act of rising before the sun goes against my internal programming. However, Jillianne had her heart set on our trip and she needed my car so I chalked it up to my chance to be a good friend and hopped to it.
After being guided to the right spot, we unloaded the yaks and after several shaky attempts, I managed to sit in the blue one without falling over. Jillianne gave it a shove so that I floated out into the clear water where I gleefully splashed around as I waited for her to follow suit. Gracefully she glided past and swiftly started to lead the way to our new destination. With renewed enthusiasm, I grabbed my paddle, plunged it into the cool water, pulled back with all my strength, my eyes locked on Jillianne’s trail, and sharply veered left almost into a wooden dock. Confused, I tried again, this time shifting horribly to the right. I quickly glanced at Jillianne to see how she was easily rotating her paddle, almost as if drawing circles on each side. Perhaps, the circumferences of my circles weren’t the proper size, I thought as I gripped my paddle, determined to master this technique. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Almost straight but still too far right. My arms were burning as I kept zigzagging through the once welcoming water. Had the sun always been this hot? Why was Jillianne still so far ahead? Was that a vulture? Suddenly, Jillianne turned around and asked if I was okay. Pride took over. Although it had felt like hours, it had only been maybe five minutes. I couldn’t give up, not like this, so I smiled.
“Yeah I got it, you go on ahead.” Seemingly satisfied with my answer, she turned back and continued to paddle forward. My smile turned grim as my paddle dove back into the water. I had no choice but to survive this. After all, there’s no retreat once you’re out on the water and you lack the skill to get out of the boat by yourself.
Eventually, I managed to have a few moments where my yak went straight and I even managed to catch up to Jillianne when she stopped. After a while, she told me it was break time and I dropped that paddle like it was hot. I gulped down some water as she serenely gazed at our surroundings with a smile on her face. Turning to see what was so wonderful, I nearly dropped my bottle. Somehow, we had made it to the bay where the water was wavy with a deep blue color, the seagulls were chirping overhead, and oh my goodness was the sea breeze blowing. As we bobbed up and down, I couldn’t help but marvel at the experience of being present in such a picturesque scene. The morning sky was filled with wispy, white clouds that stood out against the increasingly blue background and the sun was illuminating the trees just right so that their green leaves looked like emeralds. In this moment, I realized the truth behind kayaking. It’s difficult, it makes you get up early, it makes your arms ache, it can make you question your sanity, and can bring you to some of the most astounding locations. What’s even more amazing is that the more you go, the more you can see. Even if you’ve driven past a place countless times or kayaked through it numerous times, there is always something just around the river bend that you’ve never seen before. Maybe it’s the way the light refracts off the water’s surface or the way the current carries a cluster of leaves towards the sea, you never know what you’ll find. Sure, it requires a bit of effort, or a lot of effort, but the chance to see the world in a new perspective is something that makes it all worth it.
“Are you ready to head back?” Jillianne asked me, her kayak already pointing away from the bay. I took one last glance at the scene before nodding my head. We made it back in one piece, loaded the yaks back up into the truck, and before I knew it, I was back home sitting on my couch too tired to move. My mom walked in and quickly asked about how it went. My mind flashed to that deep blue bay as I replied,
“Not bad at all.”
There you have it. That is my unadulterated truth behind kayaking. Maybe you have a different one, and that’s okay too. It just gives me another reason to head back out there, back into the still water, because the more I kayak, the more I see and perhaps one day, I’ll catch a glimpse of another truth just waiting to be discovered underneath those glimmering waves.
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Pocahontas
A completely whimsical trip, often the best ones are. My sister had never been kayaking, mainly because her schedule never allowed it and she never wanted to wake up at seven in the morning to leave. But this Thursday was perfect timing. I was home for my manmade Easter break (college kids: don't skip class when you're sick, save the skip days so you can leave for a week and do something worth doing, like leaving the state to go to a 5-star hotel with family and friends) and Nina was in between extracurriculars. Ballet had just ended and play rehearsal was about to begin, and she was off this week for her actual spring break, which meant that we could go in the morning with no problems. I even promised her that we could leave around 8 rather than 7 so she could still have an idea of sleeping in.
When we get up that morning, I tell her to fill two bottles of water while I'm strapping the kayaks to the car. After about 10 minutes, I wonder what's taking her so long. I go in the house and find her sitting on the couch.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Waiting for you," she responds.
I'm shocked, "What? Then come outside and help me. There's always something to do, Nina."
She sighs and follows me outside. I show her how to fasten the straps properly so she'll be able to do it when we have to put the kayaks back on the car after our adventure. She doesn't understand, but after a while she gets the hang of it.
I push Nina out in the water and she screams, "How do you go straight!?!"
"Figure it out."
The tide is coming in so I'm a little embarrassed. A first time kayaker should not have any waves to worry about or fight against. It should just be peace and quiet.
After we start heading towards the bay area, I get a text from Mom.
Are you two okay?
Lifevests??!!!
Where's Christina?
*sigh* I turn around to see where Nina is. She's way behind me. I wait for her to get closer before snapping a picture and sending it to Mom to ease her worries.
Mom quickly responds, obviously relieved we haven't been eaten yet.
She looks like Pocahontas!! :)
I laugh and respond saying she is Pocahontas.
Christina floats up next to me, panting.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Yeah, I just thought this was going to be a nice peaceful trip. Not a sprint."
I apologize and try to explain that I'm not going that quickly intentionally. She understands and I make an effort to stay near her.
As we travel, I narrate everything to her. "This is where we saw an alligator. This is where a horsefly attacked me. Over there is the golf course. This is where Uncle Mike and I saw the dog. This is where a fish almost jumped right into Trea's kayak.
When we start to pass the grassy areas and I tell her that she can go in that way and she'll meet me in the same place when she comes out.
"Oh really!? Can I do it?" she asks.
"Yeah, just go right in there."
"I will," she nods, but paddles towards the other direction.
"No, Nina, that way," I point.
Quickly, "I know! I'm trying. I don't know how you go so straight!"
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Something Frowned Upon
A few posts ago, I mentioned a time when Trea had to hoist me up onto a bridge so I could get some water. As exhilarating as that sentence sounds, I thought that I would go into more detail, because believe it or not there is more to that story. So here we go. Trea darling, if I get something wrong, I apologize for it in advance.
It's 10 o'clock in the morning, Trea and I have been out on this water for two and half hours already. During the end of May, the sun is ruthless. It does not hesitate to boil your skin and soul until they have been welded together in some inhumane fashion. It sends any chance of a breeze running for cover, and rightly the breeze should. We were the fools who wanted to be in those conditions, asking for trouble. When we set "sail" into the water I realized that I had left my water bottle, my lovely one liter iced filled water bottle, in the car. I being the fool thought that it wouldn't be that bad without it, we wouldn't go too fast and we wouldn't go too far, I could make it until we made it back to the car. Yes, I know, I win the award for biggest fool. Two and half hours later I quickly realized that. Trea had water, but it too had been damaged by the cruel sun hanging maliciously in the sky, and there was no way I was about to drink after him. When we paddled through the golf course I spotted a small shack just off the bank. It housed two bathrooms and a water fountain that from my perspective seemed to be blessed by the Gods themselves. I quickly looked around the edges of the water, searching for a place that would sit my kayak comfortably while I could easily step out onto firm earth. Unfortunately there was no such luck, all edges in that area are covered with thick tall grass that grows out from the muddy bottom of the water making it impossible to pull a kayak into it never mind trying to step out. I already had a death wish with the sun, I wasn't about to up the chances by battling a water moccasin. After deliberating, I sheepishly look over at Trea who was fishing for golf balls. "Trea?" I call out to him. "Hmm?" he responds curtly. I stutter, "Could you help me?" He sighs and points his kayak in my direction. As he gets closer, he reaches out for the side of my yak and grabs hold of it, pulling us side by side. "What?" he smiles. I gesture up towards the bridge, "Could you maybe give me a lift?" He shields the sun away from his eyes with his hand as he peers upward. "I'll hold your kayak steady. You stand and pull yourself up." That sounded as good a plan as any so I didn't object. He reached his arm over so he could hold the other side of my kayak as well. Finding my balance was the tricky part, my kayak was not made to be stood upon. I reached up for one of the beams in the bridge before I really found my footing and hoisted myself onto it. The kayak wobbled beneath me as I pulled one leg up after another. Just as I had both feet up, we hear a golf cart approaching. We had no idea if trespassing was.. well, trespassing, but we didn't think these golf members would take too kindly to two kids kayaking and then busting up in their club to use their facilities. Trea yelled quietly at me as I leaped across the bridge into the grass to the water fountain, "GO! Go go go! Act like you belong! If someone says something, say we just paddled in from New Orleans! Go!... Don't run! Calm, Jillianne, calm!" Anything that happened after that was a blur, because I had water. To be honest, I don't think I have ever had anything that tasted sweeter. It was by far the best thing that had ever graced my lips in a very long time. I pulled away and held my head to the sky as I took a breath and then took a few more gulps before running back across the bridge. Now, due to the extreme euphoria that had just entered my life, the next few actions probably didn't happen exactly the way I remember them happening. What I remember is me flinging both legs over the railing of the bridge while holding it with one arm and balancing with the other and placing both of my feet just so in my kayak that all I had to do was just sit down and take the paddle from Trea. I remember all of this happening in one quick fluid movement that I felt like I needed to be cast in the next James Bond movie. I'm sure what actually happened was me landing in my kayak like a sack of potatoes, Trea laughing at me for five minutes, and my outfit becoming completely soaked by my lack of grace, along with multiple bruises and scrapes appearing from getting too cozy with the wooden bridge. But I am going to go with the first one. On the way back, Trea paddles next to me and says, "Oh!" as he reaches for something in between his feet, "While you were making a fool out of yourself, I got you this." He opens his hand and reveals a bright yellow golf ball with a small shell pattern printed on it. I smile and take it, "Thank you, Trea! I will keep it always." He scoffs with a smile, "Yeah, whatever," and paddles on in front of me.
It's 10 o'clock in the morning, Trea and I have been out on this water for two and half hours already. During the end of May, the sun is ruthless. It does not hesitate to boil your skin and soul until they have been welded together in some inhumane fashion. It sends any chance of a breeze running for cover, and rightly the breeze should. We were the fools who wanted to be in those conditions, asking for trouble. When we set "sail" into the water I realized that I had left my water bottle, my lovely one liter iced filled water bottle, in the car. I being the fool thought that it wouldn't be that bad without it, we wouldn't go too fast and we wouldn't go too far, I could make it until we made it back to the car. Yes, I know, I win the award for biggest fool. Two and half hours later I quickly realized that. Trea had water, but it too had been damaged by the cruel sun hanging maliciously in the sky, and there was no way I was about to drink after him. When we paddled through the golf course I spotted a small shack just off the bank. It housed two bathrooms and a water fountain that from my perspective seemed to be blessed by the Gods themselves. I quickly looked around the edges of the water, searching for a place that would sit my kayak comfortably while I could easily step out onto firm earth. Unfortunately there was no such luck, all edges in that area are covered with thick tall grass that grows out from the muddy bottom of the water making it impossible to pull a kayak into it never mind trying to step out. I already had a death wish with the sun, I wasn't about to up the chances by battling a water moccasin. After deliberating, I sheepishly look over at Trea who was fishing for golf balls. "Trea?" I call out to him. "Hmm?" he responds curtly. I stutter, "Could you help me?" He sighs and points his kayak in my direction. As he gets closer, he reaches out for the side of my yak and grabs hold of it, pulling us side by side. "What?" he smiles. I gesture up towards the bridge, "Could you maybe give me a lift?" He shields the sun away from his eyes with his hand as he peers upward. "I'll hold your kayak steady. You stand and pull yourself up." That sounded as good a plan as any so I didn't object. He reached his arm over so he could hold the other side of my kayak as well. Finding my balance was the tricky part, my kayak was not made to be stood upon. I reached up for one of the beams in the bridge before I really found my footing and hoisted myself onto it. The kayak wobbled beneath me as I pulled one leg up after another. Just as I had both feet up, we hear a golf cart approaching. We had no idea if trespassing was.. well, trespassing, but we didn't think these golf members would take too kindly to two kids kayaking and then busting up in their club to use their facilities. Trea yelled quietly at me as I leaped across the bridge into the grass to the water fountain, "GO! Go go go! Act like you belong! If someone says something, say we just paddled in from New Orleans! Go!... Don't run! Calm, Jillianne, calm!" Anything that happened after that was a blur, because I had water. To be honest, I don't think I have ever had anything that tasted sweeter. It was by far the best thing that had ever graced my lips in a very long time. I pulled away and held my head to the sky as I took a breath and then took a few more gulps before running back across the bridge. Now, due to the extreme euphoria that had just entered my life, the next few actions probably didn't happen exactly the way I remember them happening. What I remember is me flinging both legs over the railing of the bridge while holding it with one arm and balancing with the other and placing both of my feet just so in my kayak that all I had to do was just sit down and take the paddle from Trea. I remember all of this happening in one quick fluid movement that I felt like I needed to be cast in the next James Bond movie. I'm sure what actually happened was me landing in my kayak like a sack of potatoes, Trea laughing at me for five minutes, and my outfit becoming completely soaked by my lack of grace, along with multiple bruises and scrapes appearing from getting too cozy with the wooden bridge. But I am going to go with the first one. On the way back, Trea paddles next to me and says, "Oh!" as he reaches for something in between his feet, "While you were making a fool out of yourself, I got you this." He opens his hand and reveals a bright yellow golf ball with a small shell pattern printed on it. I smile and take it, "Thank you, Trea! I will keep it always." He scoffs with a smile, "Yeah, whatever," and paddles on in front of me.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Old Timers and First Timers
Last week was spring break for me and I tell you what, it was the best time I've had in a long time. It was my grandfather's 90th birthday and we had a reunion birthday bash. Family from all over the country came down to visit and the majority of them stayed at my house. It was far beyond a good time. The weather that first weekend was glorious but I didn't get a chance to kayak since I was whooping it up with my cousins. During the week I thought for sure I would go, I had nothing but time. But alas, it rained..the..entire...time. And then I began to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Saturday came around with the sun beaming down, not a cloud in sight. 60º. Beyond perfect for getting back on the yak. So I run to my Uncle Mike from Washington who wasn't leaving town until Monday and I tell him that we simply have to go kayaking in the morning. He is reluctant at first, saying he's not sure if he can sit comfortably in the kayak, "I don't bend that way." I laugh and take him outside for a test run. I lend him my sit-on kayak, saying he will be much more comfortable in this one because he will be able to rest his legs however he chooses. He agrees and says, "Yeah, okay, I guess I can do that. Let's do it. What time are we leaving?"
The sun is beginning to peak in through the trees as Mom and I strap the kayaks to the car. It's been a while so my arms are a little tight as I heave the kayaks over my head and onto the car. Uncle Mike strolls out of the house carrying a cup of coffee and a spare Seattle Seahawks tshirt, "Hey. I'm ready." We drive down to the bayou and are surprised by how much mud is on the ground and on the launch. I guess that is to be expected when it rains for an entire week.
When Uncle Mike sits on the kayak and I push him out into the water, I am convinced he is going to flip. The back of the kayak is completely level with the water while the front of it is raised above the water. He is wobbling like a top that is about to fall and I watch with my breath frozen still and hands covering my mouth. But... he gets it. No one flipped. He got the hang of it and begins practicing turning and stopping as I push my self out into the water. I catch up to him and tell him to head left. I watch him paddle, right, left left, right, left, right right right, left left, right, and can't help but smile.
We reach the golf course and I notice a string of bubbles appearing on the water, no more than three feet away from me, heading in the opposite direction of us. I suggest to Uncle Mike that maybe it's an alligator. He frowns, "Yeah. I'm going back that way." I laugh and follow him out. On the way back, a dog who is very happy to see us jumps off of his yard and into a boat that is tied up. He stands on the edge, silently, and smiles as I paddle up next to him to give him a rub on the head. As I float on, I watch as he struggles to find the best way to get out of the boat. A pinecone captures my attention in the corner of my eye, and when I turn my head back to watch the dog, he was lying happily on the grass again. "Wizard dog," I say to myself.
We reach a point where we could either go back to the house or head towards the Bay. When I ask Uncle Mike what he wants to do he says, "Hey, this is all you. We can keep going." So I head towards the Bay but we turn down Alligator Alley to go around the island and land back at the house instead of going to the Bay and just turning around and coming back.
I row row row through the swamp because believe it or not, I actually didn't want to run into a gator that morning. When I get to the other end, I paddle over to the other side of the floating dock and admire how calm the water is and how green the grass is while I wait for Mike to make it through.
This was the first time I had ever kayaked in the month of March, and it might be my favorite. The sun is out but it has no desire to bake you and any leaf you see is brand new and filled with life. The whole bayou had a new refreshing ora to it that I had never seen before. This place had always been beautiful, this was just a different type of beauty.
I hear Uncle Mike run into something and I quickly turn my head to make sure he alright. Sure enough, he had crashed right into the floating dock. He laughs and says, "Hey, it's alright." I laugh with him and tell him the house is right around the corner.
The sun is beginning to peak in through the trees as Mom and I strap the kayaks to the car. It's been a while so my arms are a little tight as I heave the kayaks over my head and onto the car. Uncle Mike strolls out of the house carrying a cup of coffee and a spare Seattle Seahawks tshirt, "Hey. I'm ready." We drive down to the bayou and are surprised by how much mud is on the ground and on the launch. I guess that is to be expected when it rains for an entire week.
When Uncle Mike sits on the kayak and I push him out into the water, I am convinced he is going to flip. The back of the kayak is completely level with the water while the front of it is raised above the water. He is wobbling like a top that is about to fall and I watch with my breath frozen still and hands covering my mouth. But... he gets it. No one flipped. He got the hang of it and begins practicing turning and stopping as I push my self out into the water. I catch up to him and tell him to head left. I watch him paddle, right, left left, right, left, right right right, left left, right, and can't help but smile.
We reach the golf course and I notice a string of bubbles appearing on the water, no more than three feet away from me, heading in the opposite direction of us. I suggest to Uncle Mike that maybe it's an alligator. He frowns, "Yeah. I'm going back that way." I laugh and follow him out. On the way back, a dog who is very happy to see us jumps off of his yard and into a boat that is tied up. He stands on the edge, silently, and smiles as I paddle up next to him to give him a rub on the head. As I float on, I watch as he struggles to find the best way to get out of the boat. A pinecone captures my attention in the corner of my eye, and when I turn my head back to watch the dog, he was lying happily on the grass again. "Wizard dog," I say to myself.
We reach a point where we could either go back to the house or head towards the Bay. When I ask Uncle Mike what he wants to do he says, "Hey, this is all you. We can keep going." So I head towards the Bay but we turn down Alligator Alley to go around the island and land back at the house instead of going to the Bay and just turning around and coming back.
I row row row through the swamp because believe it or not, I actually didn't want to run into a gator that morning. When I get to the other end, I paddle over to the other side of the floating dock and admire how calm the water is and how green the grass is while I wait for Mike to make it through.
This was the first time I had ever kayaked in the month of March, and it might be my favorite. The sun is out but it has no desire to bake you and any leaf you see is brand new and filled with life. The whole bayou had a new refreshing ora to it that I had never seen before. This place had always been beautiful, this was just a different type of beauty.
I hear Uncle Mike run into something and I quickly turn my head to make sure he alright. Sure enough, he had crashed right into the floating dock. He laughs and says, "Hey, it's alright." I laugh with him and tell him the house is right around the corner.
Saturday, March 14, 2015
Back On The Yak For Yak's Sake
It's a Saturday. Winter Break comes to a halt in about two weeks. We haven't been on the yaks in a few months. It's about 50 degrees outside. I drive over to Sarah Anne's house to pick her up. She has some Nike shorts on over a pair of black leggings, a long sleeve shirt under her hoodie, thick socks and some tennis shoes. When she gets in the car I give her a Kermit the Frog hat to match my sock monkey hat. I offer her my pair of gloves but she declines.
When we arrive at the drop off, a terrible thing starts to happen. Teeny tiny drops of water start to cover the windshield. Neither one of us say anything, we just watch.
After one or two moments, I say, "I wouldn't call that rain."
"No?" Sarah Anne replies rather quickly.
"No. It's like a mist. Hardly a mist, really."
"Sure."
"The mist in the produce section of the grocery store is stronger than this," I say.
"Totally. It's a tease of a mist."
"Exactly, and it doesn't look like it's going to get any worse any time soon."
"Yeah."
"Yeah. We'll be fine."
"Okay," she says unconvinced.
"We're not going back."
"No?"
"No! We'll just go out right there! We don't have to go far, we'll just go, spin in some circles, get the blood flowing, and then we'll come right back."
"Yeah, okay."
"We're just going to go."
"Getting on the yak for the sake of the yak."
I smile, "Exactly."
So that is exactly what we do. We put our yaks in the water, put our life vests on our chests, put the paddles in our hands then in the water. I give Sarah Anne a hurl out, and she wobbles out into the open water. I follow behind her. Clouds hang every where above and the mist keeps are faces cool while we spin around each other.
"Did I ever take you to the place where I actually saw an alligator?" I smile.
She hesitates, "..no."
I laugh, "Well. We're going."
Instead of taking the way that leads out into the bay, we turn right to head towards the golf course. We tuck our heads under our chins as we pass under the bridge as I tell her about the time Trea had to hoist me up from his kayak so I could fun and get some water from a nearby fountain (a post for another time). As the water gets narrower, Sarah Anne pulls out a bag of cereal from her pack. I tease her and say that she may want to put that away as we approach gator country. She laughs and smirks back at me but in the corner of my eye I see her tuck it away. We take left turn after left turn as the water gets shallower and more murky. Probably out of nerves, Sarah Anne starts to tell me about a time when she was much younger, she visited an alligator farm and she got to hold an egg as it hatched! How cool is that? Life was brought into this world in the palm of her hand.
Unfortunately, no gators were seen on this specific kayaking trip. On the way back, we moseyed along, enjoying being back on the water. Before we hit land, we decided to make a quick video of us really just being silly.
When we arrive at the drop off, a terrible thing starts to happen. Teeny tiny drops of water start to cover the windshield. Neither one of us say anything, we just watch.
After one or two moments, I say, "I wouldn't call that rain."
"No?" Sarah Anne replies rather quickly.
"No. It's like a mist. Hardly a mist, really."
"Sure."
"The mist in the produce section of the grocery store is stronger than this," I say.
"Totally. It's a tease of a mist."
"Exactly, and it doesn't look like it's going to get any worse any time soon."
"Yeah."
"Yeah. We'll be fine."
"Okay," she says unconvinced.
"We're not going back."
"No?"
"No! We'll just go out right there! We don't have to go far, we'll just go, spin in some circles, get the blood flowing, and then we'll come right back."
"Yeah, okay."
"We're just going to go."
"Getting on the yak for the sake of the yak."
I smile, "Exactly."
So that is exactly what we do. We put our yaks in the water, put our life vests on our chests, put the paddles in our hands then in the water. I give Sarah Anne a hurl out, and she wobbles out into the open water. I follow behind her. Clouds hang every where above and the mist keeps are faces cool while we spin around each other.
"Did I ever take you to the place where I actually saw an alligator?" I smile.
She hesitates, "..no."
I laugh, "Well. We're going."
Instead of taking the way that leads out into the bay, we turn right to head towards the golf course. We tuck our heads under our chins as we pass under the bridge as I tell her about the time Trea had to hoist me up from his kayak so I could fun and get some water from a nearby fountain (a post for another time). As the water gets narrower, Sarah Anne pulls out a bag of cereal from her pack. I tease her and say that she may want to put that away as we approach gator country. She laughs and smirks back at me but in the corner of my eye I see her tuck it away. We take left turn after left turn as the water gets shallower and more murky. Probably out of nerves, Sarah Anne starts to tell me about a time when she was much younger, she visited an alligator farm and she got to hold an egg as it hatched! How cool is that? Life was brought into this world in the palm of her hand.
Unfortunately, no gators were seen on this specific kayaking trip. On the way back, we moseyed along, enjoying being back on the water. Before we hit land, we decided to make a quick video of us really just being silly.
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
Homage to Home
Anyone who is planning to go to college at some point in there lives needs to know about basic introductions. Any body you meet will ask for your name, your hometown, and your major. It's all very standard stuff. Try to generalize those first three things. Same specifics for the next round, it lengthens the conversation, engages everyone a little bit more, and shows more personality. For example, I say, "I'm Jillianne. I'm from south Mississippi, the coast. And I'm an Art Major." Next round, they'll probably ask how far is your hometown, and ask for more info on your major. But for me, since I hate the standard intro, I go for something a little more.. spunky? I ask, "So name, and so and so major. What else is there to know?" This always throws them for a loop. For one, they didn't think anyone would care. Two, it completely brakes the shell of the standard convo. They'll typically say, "Uh, I don't know. What about you?" Hoping you'll fall into the same trap they just did. Wrong. "Well, I kayak. I have a killer blog about it, you should check it out btw," Bam. You now have plenty of material for a conversation that should last the entire route of wherever you are walking to. You're welcome.
To the point. This is after four or five rounds of conversing with someone. They know all about my major, my goals, my hopes and dreams, and they know I'm serious about kayaking. So they ask more. "Where do you kayak?" they ask. This is a tricky one. The simple answer is, "Mallini's Bayou." But they are from someplace 35 minutes west of Dallas, they have no grasp on what part of "the south" I am from, and they certainly have no earthly idea what "Mallini's Bayou" means. They want something awesome like "In the middle of the ocean" or "Down these white rapids that are behind my house" or even "When I said I kayak, I meant I did it once when I was on vacation with my family at a lake. I'm sorry I lied, here's a dollar for your troubles. Oh you won't take a dollar? How about store credit at Starbucks?" So I have to generalize but make it sound just as epic as it really is.
Here we go.
"Well... I live two miles from the beach. I haven't been out there yet. The water is always pretty choppy when I get out there. Not Atlantic Ocean choppy, but enough to flip a kayak with the same ease as flicking someone on the nose. So there's this bayou right? Not bayou as in the waters are covered in green stuff and looks like a golf course. I mean, there are gators and there is a golf course next door, but not that kind of bayou. It's about 20 minutes from my house. It's so nice! We put the kayaks in a drop off in a stranger's yard and the water is always perfect. It's a series of creeks and caverns with a canopy of trees covering the whole thing! There are houses along every edge, and everyone usually waves. Imagine you're going through a neighborhood but the streets have been replaced with streams and the cars have been replaced with boats. If I'm lucky, I'm out there when the sun is going down. The coast of Mississippi has the most beautiful sunsets and I will argue that until the day I die."
Sometimes I do just say, "In the middle of the ocean." It depends on how much sleep I got the night before and how comfortable my shoes are.
To the point. This is after four or five rounds of conversing with someone. They know all about my major, my goals, my hopes and dreams, and they know I'm serious about kayaking. So they ask more. "Where do you kayak?" they ask. This is a tricky one. The simple answer is, "Mallini's Bayou." But they are from someplace 35 minutes west of Dallas, they have no grasp on what part of "the south" I am from, and they certainly have no earthly idea what "Mallini's Bayou" means. They want something awesome like "In the middle of the ocean" or "Down these white rapids that are behind my house" or even "When I said I kayak, I meant I did it once when I was on vacation with my family at a lake. I'm sorry I lied, here's a dollar for your troubles. Oh you won't take a dollar? How about store credit at Starbucks?" So I have to generalize but make it sound just as epic as it really is.
Here we go.
"Well... I live two miles from the beach. I haven't been out there yet. The water is always pretty choppy when I get out there. Not Atlantic Ocean choppy, but enough to flip a kayak with the same ease as flicking someone on the nose. So there's this bayou right? Not bayou as in the waters are covered in green stuff and looks like a golf course. I mean, there are gators and there is a golf course next door, but not that kind of bayou. It's about 20 minutes from my house. It's so nice! We put the kayaks in a drop off in a stranger's yard and the water is always perfect. It's a series of creeks and caverns with a canopy of trees covering the whole thing! There are houses along every edge, and everyone usually waves. Imagine you're going through a neighborhood but the streets have been replaced with streams and the cars have been replaced with boats. If I'm lucky, I'm out there when the sun is going down. The coast of Mississippi has the most beautiful sunsets and I will argue that until the day I die."
Sometimes I do just say, "In the middle of the ocean." It depends on how much sleep I got the night before and how comfortable my shoes are.
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Mom
It's 12 o'clock on a hot June day. I'm reading, Mom is somewhere doing something, and for some reason, I think it's a good idea to go kayaking right now. Looking back now, mistakes were made. Mom being the compliant person she is, says she would love to go kayaking. So we load everything up, tell my sister we'll be back in a little bit, down ourselves in bug spray, and that's it.
When we pull up to the drop off, small waves are sloshing against it. I don't know why I was surprised, anyone would know that if you go to the water in the middle of the day, the tide will be on the move. But we went out anyway.
Once we get away from the house and out into the bigger part of the bayou, it immediately starts to feel like we are kayaking on a treadmill. It doesn't help that Mom has the old broken paddle that doesn't stay together on its own. She yells out, "Jillianne, what part of this is enjoyable?" The burn starts to come over us. Even I start to complain a bit. Here we are, paddling as fast as our bodies can paddle, and yet we're going nowhere. It's not like the other times I've gone when we could just mosey along and make it in excellent time. No, now we have to exert every once of strength we have just to travel three feet.
After a while Mom says, "Man, if we did this everyday, we'd have Susan Lucci arms in no time." I laugh and agree but make a point that we will never kayak during this time ever again.
We make a dash to Alligator Alley and she shrieks, "NO! Sweetie, I don't want you kayaking through this ever again! This place filled with gators. Look at this water! No no no. I can't believe we're going this way." I try to calm her down by telling her to look up at the beautiful canopy of trees, but moms will be moms.
We get to a point where we're ready to turn around, but when we do, a wicked thing happens..
One would think that the moment we turned around we would go extra fast because the current would be pushing us along. But no, it was as if the moment we turned around, the tide did as well. Going back was not any easier than before. It was just as horrific. I'm apologizing to Mom the entire way, but she's done complaining. She's just trying her best to hold the paddle together while booking it back to the house. Not many words were said, there was just the sound of heavy breathing and the waves colliding with the kayaks.
I know I ruined the idea of kayaking for my mother. But once the horrible memories of that trip fade away, we'll head back out, in the evening, and kayaking's perfect reputation will be redeemed.
When we pull up to the drop off, small waves are sloshing against it. I don't know why I was surprised, anyone would know that if you go to the water in the middle of the day, the tide will be on the move. But we went out anyway.
Once we get away from the house and out into the bigger part of the bayou, it immediately starts to feel like we are kayaking on a treadmill. It doesn't help that Mom has the old broken paddle that doesn't stay together on its own. She yells out, "Jillianne, what part of this is enjoyable?" The burn starts to come over us. Even I start to complain a bit. Here we are, paddling as fast as our bodies can paddle, and yet we're going nowhere. It's not like the other times I've gone when we could just mosey along and make it in excellent time. No, now we have to exert every once of strength we have just to travel three feet.
After a while Mom says, "Man, if we did this everyday, we'd have Susan Lucci arms in no time." I laugh and agree but make a point that we will never kayak during this time ever again.
We make a dash to Alligator Alley and she shrieks, "NO! Sweetie, I don't want you kayaking through this ever again! This place filled with gators. Look at this water! No no no. I can't believe we're going this way." I try to calm her down by telling her to look up at the beautiful canopy of trees, but moms will be moms.
We get to a point where we're ready to turn around, but when we do, a wicked thing happens..
One would think that the moment we turned around we would go extra fast because the current would be pushing us along. But no, it was as if the moment we turned around, the tide did as well. Going back was not any easier than before. It was just as horrific. I'm apologizing to Mom the entire way, but she's done complaining. She's just trying her best to hold the paddle together while booking it back to the house. Not many words were said, there was just the sound of heavy breathing and the waves colliding with the kayaks.
I know I ruined the idea of kayaking for my mother. But once the horrible memories of that trip fade away, we'll head back out, in the evening, and kayaking's perfect reputation will be redeemed.
Thursday, January 1, 2015
Toe-Pro
It's New Years Day, about 50 so degrees outside, and I'm sitting at my dining room table with my 2015 glasses (which I bought at Walmart along with a life vest. The ingredients for a good time, I know) on while eating a BLT. My shoulders are sore, there's a lump on my shin, and I'm tired.
"Bella! Do you want to go kayaking?" I ask.
"Sure," she responds happily.
"You can be on my blog!"
"Ooh la la, really?"
"Of course!"
"Well, we'd have to do something awesome. Something that those Czech Republicans will remember!"
We return from Walmart, glasses and vest in hand. I grab our waters, throw the vests and paddles in the back, and I give Bella a lesson on how to strap a kayak to a Volvo. On the way to Mallini's I apologize in advance for paddling too fast or not taking enough breaks or anything else that previous kayak companions had complained about. I tell her how much I want to see an alligator again and ask if she knows when alligator feeding time is? She said she didn't. Bummer.
We pull up to the house and it's odd, but Bella was actually the first person who didn't ask, "Do you know these people?" Not a peep from her, totally on board.
Follow the routine: kayaks off, life vests on, paddles together, water closed, car locked.
"This water is so still," Bella calls to me.
"I know.. Where's an alligator?"
I pull closer to the edge of the water to look for crabs or snakes, but alas, none to be found. The bridge is approaching and I tell Bella to duck and stay as straight as she can. I make it under with no issue. I'm heading for the second bridge when I hear a loud thud followed by, "Ugh!" I turn around and see Bella stuck between the legs of the bridge.
"Sorry," she laughs.
I smile, "All good, just go backwards."
We make it out of Alligator Alley alive and without seeing a gator. I tell Bella to head for the opening ahead and we make a break for it. Soon enough, the waters get choppy and the waves splash my pants. Stay aggressive. Make it around the rocks and everything calms down. No problem. Seagulls and pelicans sit along the sidelines cocking their heads from side to side in mockery.
We're on our way back to the drop off, Bella's in front of me and I snap a picture of her. A picture isn't enough. All I want is a video. I'm thinking, I'm thinking. I don't want to stop and video everything, that's boring and it's been done before. I think about holding my phone with my chin but that would be uncomfortable and it would fall constantly. *Light bulb* I grab my phone, press record, and put in my Chaco, my toes holding it. I stretch my legs out to where they normally are, and paddle onward. I'm brilliant.
I start to pass Bella and say, "Look Bella, I made a Go-Pro."
She turns her head and bursts out laughing, "Oh my gosh, stop, I have to take a picture!"
We return home from our adventure. I walk in the house with my leg throbbing from the kayak crashing into my shin when we took them off the car. Bella shows her mom, Rene, the picture of my genius homemade Go-Pro. She laughs and says, "Toe-Pro."
I want to thank everyone who let #backontheyak be a part of their lives in 2014, and I look forward to 2015 bringing many more. This past year brought many challenges, some of which were included in this blog, but it also brought many blessings. So keep smiling and I hope 2015 brings you all more happiness and contentment than you thought possible.
"Bella! Do you want to go kayaking?" I ask.
"Sure," she responds happily.
"You can be on my blog!"
"Ooh la la, really?"
"Of course!"
"Well, we'd have to do something awesome. Something that those Czech Republicans will remember!"
We return from Walmart, glasses and vest in hand. I grab our waters, throw the vests and paddles in the back, and I give Bella a lesson on how to strap a kayak to a Volvo. On the way to Mallini's I apologize in advance for paddling too fast or not taking enough breaks or anything else that previous kayak companions had complained about. I tell her how much I want to see an alligator again and ask if she knows when alligator feeding time is? She said she didn't. Bummer.
We pull up to the house and it's odd, but Bella was actually the first person who didn't ask, "Do you know these people?" Not a peep from her, totally on board.
Follow the routine: kayaks off, life vests on, paddles together, water closed, car locked.
"This water is so still," Bella calls to me.
"I know.. Where's an alligator?"
I pull closer to the edge of the water to look for crabs or snakes, but alas, none to be found. The bridge is approaching and I tell Bella to duck and stay as straight as she can. I make it under with no issue. I'm heading for the second bridge when I hear a loud thud followed by, "Ugh!" I turn around and see Bella stuck between the legs of the bridge.
"Sorry," she laughs.
I smile, "All good, just go backwards."
We make it out of Alligator Alley alive and without seeing a gator. I tell Bella to head for the opening ahead and we make a break for it. Soon enough, the waters get choppy and the waves splash my pants. Stay aggressive. Make it around the rocks and everything calms down. No problem. Seagulls and pelicans sit along the sidelines cocking their heads from side to side in mockery.
We're on our way back to the drop off, Bella's in front of me and I snap a picture of her. A picture isn't enough. All I want is a video. I'm thinking, I'm thinking. I don't want to stop and video everything, that's boring and it's been done before. I think about holding my phone with my chin but that would be uncomfortable and it would fall constantly. *Light bulb* I grab my phone, press record, and put in my Chaco, my toes holding it. I stretch my legs out to where they normally are, and paddle onward. I'm brilliant.
I start to pass Bella and say, "Look Bella, I made a Go-Pro."
She turns her head and bursts out laughing, "Oh my gosh, stop, I have to take a picture!"
We return home from our adventure. I walk in the house with my leg throbbing from the kayak crashing into my shin when we took them off the car. Bella shows her mom, Rene, the picture of my genius homemade Go-Pro. She laughs and says, "Toe-Pro."
I want to thank everyone who let #backontheyak be a part of their lives in 2014, and I look forward to 2015 bringing many more. This past year brought many challenges, some of which were included in this blog, but it also brought many blessings. So keep smiling and I hope 2015 brings you all more happiness and contentment than you thought possible.
Thank you and Happy Holidays -
Jillianne
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Up There
"The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away"
Job 1:21
It's day 3 of the perfect kayak week*. Trea is the best partner to have while trying to accomplish something like this. He's right down the road, he has a kayak, and he loves it as much as I do. This week was tough though. Our friend, Tricia, was in the hospital after being in a terrible car accident. She was one of three passengers in the vehicle. The other two, her brother and her boyfriend, had died earlier in the week. She was in a coma and the doctors were doing their best to relieve the pressure from her brain. That's another reason why Trea is the best to have around. While others would say it's incredibly selfish to think only of myself while my friend of four years could possibly be dying, Trea wouldn't. Kayaking was the escape. It took our mind off the terrible and focused it on to something beautiful. While Tricia was still on our brains, we couldn't help but think that everything was going to be okay as we watched the sky flood with pinks, oranges, and purples, as the sun set over the water.
We paddled out into the bay. This was actually my first time going into the bay. Before, I hung back as I watched Trea's bravery take him farther than mine would. But this time was different. Carpe Diem really seemed to have much more meaning this week. So when he told me to follow him out into the bigger water, I didn't protest. I stayed by his side.
The air was warm but it had a cozy feeling about it. I took a swig of my water and watched the sky. Yellow's blending into pinks while the sun peered in from behind. This was always my favorite part of the kayak trip. Wide open waters with a view consisting of only waves outlined with the distant trees. Boats scattered about, some zipping circles around themselves, others sitting peacefully enjoying the same sky I am. Every now and then the clouds would move in such a way creating a hazy overcast pink glow. The setting sun peering through at odd angles so one could actually see the rays beaming down over the water. Completely romantic, it seemed as if two total strangers found themselves with each other out on this water, that was it. Instant love. A scheme that only Cupid himself could be to blame. Each ray of sun one of his arrows in disguise. It was a scene that belonged only in a painting, but I got to see it for free. It's in these moments, with the boats, the sun, the water, that made everything seem worth it. As if it were an omen telling me that things really are okay. How could they be bad when there is something as perfect as this moment?
"See how fun it is to try new things, Jillianne?" Trea smiled.
I'm snuggled up in my bed, fan blasting, cat sleeping on my feet, music playing, when my phone lets out its alerting whistle.
I have a message from Trea.
'Jillianne' it reads.
I respond with the obvious 'Trea'
He quickly answers 'She's gone.'
'What are you talking about?'
A moment goes by before my phone whistles again.
'Tricia, she's dead.'
*The perfect kayak week is when one tries to kayak at least a certain distance every consecutive day for one week. It seems easy before one actually starts. After the third day, you really start to feel it. And your poor legs have given up on the concept of "sunburn".
This event happened in late May, and it's taken me a while to be able to write about it. This was before I had the RunKeeper app so I don't have the stats from this trip.
RIP Tricia, I love you and thank you for being my friend at school when no one else was and for always being able to crack me up. Also, thank you for coming to my rescue in Econ when I didn't have a colored pen to grade Trea's paper with. It sits on my shelf still.
Job 1:21
It's day 3 of the perfect kayak week*. Trea is the best partner to have while trying to accomplish something like this. He's right down the road, he has a kayak, and he loves it as much as I do. This week was tough though. Our friend, Tricia, was in the hospital after being in a terrible car accident. She was one of three passengers in the vehicle. The other two, her brother and her boyfriend, had died earlier in the week. She was in a coma and the doctors were doing their best to relieve the pressure from her brain. That's another reason why Trea is the best to have around. While others would say it's incredibly selfish to think only of myself while my friend of four years could possibly be dying, Trea wouldn't. Kayaking was the escape. It took our mind off the terrible and focused it on to something beautiful. While Tricia was still on our brains, we couldn't help but think that everything was going to be okay as we watched the sky flood with pinks, oranges, and purples, as the sun set over the water.
We paddled out into the bay. This was actually my first time going into the bay. Before, I hung back as I watched Trea's bravery take him farther than mine would. But this time was different. Carpe Diem really seemed to have much more meaning this week. So when he told me to follow him out into the bigger water, I didn't protest. I stayed by his side.
The air was warm but it had a cozy feeling about it. I took a swig of my water and watched the sky. Yellow's blending into pinks while the sun peered in from behind. This was always my favorite part of the kayak trip. Wide open waters with a view consisting of only waves outlined with the distant trees. Boats scattered about, some zipping circles around themselves, others sitting peacefully enjoying the same sky I am. Every now and then the clouds would move in such a way creating a hazy overcast pink glow. The setting sun peering through at odd angles so one could actually see the rays beaming down over the water. Completely romantic, it seemed as if two total strangers found themselves with each other out on this water, that was it. Instant love. A scheme that only Cupid himself could be to blame. Each ray of sun one of his arrows in disguise. It was a scene that belonged only in a painting, but I got to see it for free. It's in these moments, with the boats, the sun, the water, that made everything seem worth it. As if it were an omen telling me that things really are okay. How could they be bad when there is something as perfect as this moment?
"See how fun it is to try new things, Jillianne?" Trea smiled.
I'm snuggled up in my bed, fan blasting, cat sleeping on my feet, music playing, when my phone lets out its alerting whistle.
I have a message from Trea.
'Jillianne' it reads.
I respond with the obvious 'Trea'
He quickly answers 'She's gone.'
'What are you talking about?'
A moment goes by before my phone whistles again.
'Tricia, she's dead.'
*The perfect kayak week is when one tries to kayak at least a certain distance every consecutive day for one week. It seems easy before one actually starts. After the third day, you really start to feel it. And your poor legs have given up on the concept of "sunburn".
This event happened in late May, and it's taken me a while to be able to write about it. This was before I had the RunKeeper app so I don't have the stats from this trip.
RIP Tricia, I love you and thank you for being my friend at school when no one else was and for always being able to crack me up. Also, thank you for coming to my rescue in Econ when I didn't have a colored pen to grade Trea's paper with. It sits on my shelf still.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
The Wolf
This kayak adventure is not a new one. Instead, it's a throwback, a homage if you will, to dear Trea. He was featured in the first story on #backontheyak. Sadly, that was the last time I saw him. He's out doing his thing at college. On his way to becoming a very successful doctor, I'm sure. I miss him, of course, but we had our time. As short as it was, it was still pretty rad. So here's a story of one of the many times he accompanied me while kayaking.
I pull up to his driveway and sit for a minute. I don't even have to get out of the car. The garage door grumbles open and he emerges. He doesn't wave at me or smile at me. Instead he smirks, walks right up to my window, and presses his phone against it. I stare at it blankly.
He points to the time and mouths, "7:31."
I roll my eyes and laugh, "Oh my gosh. God forbid, I'm one minute late. You'll be alright."
He just shakes his head out of disappointment.
"Just get your kayak and c'mon."
Trea and I have mastered Mallini's. No shocker there. After 7+ times of going in and out of the bay in every which way possible with each other, we decided the two of us are ready to graduate to bigger and better things. The Wolf River.
I turn onto the dusty gravel road and park next to some fishermen. There aren't any other kayakers or paddleboarders, just some teenagers tossing the fishing line in the water. So really we have the place to our selves. That's always nice.
We help each other put the kayaks in the sandy water and strap on our life vests. Trea asks which way we should go. Without thinking I say right. We pass under a bridge and paddle by a few logs that Trea first thinks are gators. It's fourth of July weekend so every now and then we play chicken with boats and jet skiers before eventually merging to the right so they can zip by.
Now, as great as it was to get out of Mallini's and get some new scenery, the scenery on the Wolf didn't have much variation. It consisted of only bush, tree, bird, log, bush, tree, bird, log, bush, tree, bird, log, bush, tree, bird, log. After a while, that gets old really quickly. There's no way to tell how far you've gone or how fast you're going. You look back and think, "Is that the bush I just passed? Or the one I looked at 30 minutes ago?" There were no houses to admire or people to wave at. Just bush, tree, bird, log.
After a while, Trea speaks up, "Oh Jillianne! You'll appreciate this. I started a journal."
I laugh, "Why?"
"I just write about my day."
"Alright, groovy. How long have you been doing this?"
He grins, "I started yesterday."
"Okay," I smile at him, "you've got to start somewhere."
We come across a fork in the river. Trea continues on to examine a log that looks like a pipe that looks like an alligator. I turn around. I don't bother telling him, he'll figure it out, he's smart. And if that fails, I have my phone.
The way back is nice. Me and myself, as they say. I try to get a grasp on how fast I am going. Sure I have my app telling me my pace but that doesn't help. I look for something in the distance that I can use as a reference point. Alas. I look back every few minutes or so to see if Trea has caught up to me yet. Again, alas. Still just me and myself.
Finally, as I'm crossing under the bridge again, something rams into me.
Trea.
"I thought for sure you'd be asleep in the car by the time I got back," he laughs, "Or worse, that you'd just straight up leave me here."
I punch him in the shoulder, "I'd never do that to you."
Distance 3.55 miles
Time 1:18:39
Min/Mile 22:09
Calories 319
I pull up to his driveway and sit for a minute. I don't even have to get out of the car. The garage door grumbles open and he emerges. He doesn't wave at me or smile at me. Instead he smirks, walks right up to my window, and presses his phone against it. I stare at it blankly.
He points to the time and mouths, "7:31."
I roll my eyes and laugh, "Oh my gosh. God forbid, I'm one minute late. You'll be alright."
He just shakes his head out of disappointment.
"Just get your kayak and c'mon."
Trea and I have mastered Mallini's. No shocker there. After 7+ times of going in and out of the bay in every which way possible with each other, we decided the two of us are ready to graduate to bigger and better things. The Wolf River.
I turn onto the dusty gravel road and park next to some fishermen. There aren't any other kayakers or paddleboarders, just some teenagers tossing the fishing line in the water. So really we have the place to our selves. That's always nice.
We help each other put the kayaks in the sandy water and strap on our life vests. Trea asks which way we should go. Without thinking I say right. We pass under a bridge and paddle by a few logs that Trea first thinks are gators. It's fourth of July weekend so every now and then we play chicken with boats and jet skiers before eventually merging to the right so they can zip by.
Now, as great as it was to get out of Mallini's and get some new scenery, the scenery on the Wolf didn't have much variation. It consisted of only bush, tree, bird, log, bush, tree, bird, log, bush, tree, bird, log, bush, tree, bird, log. After a while, that gets old really quickly. There's no way to tell how far you've gone or how fast you're going. You look back and think, "Is that the bush I just passed? Or the one I looked at 30 minutes ago?" There were no houses to admire or people to wave at. Just bush, tree, bird, log.
After a while, Trea speaks up, "Oh Jillianne! You'll appreciate this. I started a journal."
I laugh, "Why?"
"I just write about my day."
"Alright, groovy. How long have you been doing this?"
He grins, "I started yesterday."
"Okay," I smile at him, "you've got to start somewhere."
We come across a fork in the river. Trea continues on to examine a log that looks like a pipe that looks like an alligator. I turn around. I don't bother telling him, he'll figure it out, he's smart. And if that fails, I have my phone.
The way back is nice. Me and myself, as they say. I try to get a grasp on how fast I am going. Sure I have my app telling me my pace but that doesn't help. I look for something in the distance that I can use as a reference point. Alas. I look back every few minutes or so to see if Trea has caught up to me yet. Again, alas. Still just me and myself.
Finally, as I'm crossing under the bridge again, something rams into me.
Trea.
"I thought for sure you'd be asleep in the car by the time I got back," he laughs, "Or worse, that you'd just straight up leave me here."
I punch him in the shoulder, "I'd never do that to you."
Distance 3.55 miles
Time 1:18:39
Min/Mile 22:09
Calories 319
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
It's KAYAK PLAYLIST 2, y'all
As promised, more music to jam to while hitting the yak. There's something for everyone. Whether you're a Disney fan or a Christmas fan, I've got you covered. Enjoy.
Cum On Feel the Noise - Quiet Riot
In the Summertime - Mungo Jerry
Blurred Lines (feat. T.I. & Pharrell) - Robin Thicke
Interlude: Holiday - Paramore
Ribs - Lorde
I Don't Feel Like Dancin' - Scissor Sisters
Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye - Lady Gaga
I Wan'na Be Like You (The Monkey Song) - Louis Prima & Phil Harris
Below My Feet - Mumford & Sons
Till Kingdom Come - Coldplay
I Sill Haven't Found What I'm Looking For - U2
I Lived - OneRepublic
Blue Christmas - Michael Bublé
Everything Has Changed (Remix) [feat. Ed Sheeran] - Taylor Swift
Stubborn Love - The Lumineers
Kingfisher - PHOX
I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) - The Proclaimers
Song for Zula - Phosphorescent
Alligator - Paul McCartney
Happily - One Direction
Sweet Disposition - The Temper Trap
Interlude: I'm Not Angry Anymore - Paramore
Something I Need - OneRepublic
Temperature - Sean Paul
Take a Walk - Passion Pit
Si tu vois ma mère - Sidney Bechet
Cum On Feel the Noise - Quiet Riot
In the Summertime - Mungo Jerry
Blurred Lines (feat. T.I. & Pharrell) - Robin Thicke
Interlude: Holiday - Paramore
Ribs - Lorde
I Don't Feel Like Dancin' - Scissor Sisters
Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye - Lady Gaga
I Wan'na Be Like You (The Monkey Song) - Louis Prima & Phil Harris
Below My Feet - Mumford & Sons
Till Kingdom Come - Coldplay
I Sill Haven't Found What I'm Looking For - U2
I Lived - OneRepublic
Blue Christmas - Michael Bublé
Everything Has Changed (Remix) [feat. Ed Sheeran] - Taylor Swift
Stubborn Love - The Lumineers
Kingfisher - PHOX
I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) - The Proclaimers
Song for Zula - Phosphorescent
Alligator - Paul McCartney
Happily - One Direction
Sweet Disposition - The Temper Trap
Interlude: I'm Not Angry Anymore - Paramore
Something I Need - OneRepublic
Temperature - Sean Paul
Take a Walk - Passion Pit
Si tu vois ma mère - Sidney Bechet
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Pops
As some know, I'm taking this semester off. I will not start college until January. I needed time to think and I needed time to do things I should have done in high school. Read books, not magazines. Work seriously on my art. Keep up with the world, not just the Kardashians. And it's been going well so far. I've completed over six novels, I'm putting together a show at a local art gallery, and I got a totally rad job at BCBG Max Azria. Taking these five months off was one of the best decisions I've ever made.
The only down side.. all of my friends are gone. Well, all three of them. Nonetheless, my options for kayak partners has dramatically decreased. Patrick is still here of course, finishing up his last year of high school, but he hates kayaking. So that's a dud. My sister is around, but she's too glued to studying her precious notecards. There's mom, but she's too tired, too busy, and far too grouchy. So that really only leaves one person.
My father.
When I asked him if he would like to go, he responded with ample enthusiasm.
"OF COURSE! I've been telling you since you bought it that I would LOVE to go kayaking with you!! Thank you so much for asking me, sweetie!"
It would be good. He's a triathlete and an Iron Man so I knew he would be able to keep up with me and that he wouldn't complain. I asked where he wanted to go and naturally he said, "It doesn't matter to me, Jillianne. I'm just happy to spend time with you." So I took him where I take all new-comers, Mallini's. It was the perfect place for beginners. Great sense of scenery, surrounded by houses, plenty of wildlife, all while having an easy compact route.
The morning of our adventure, I check the radar and see that we may run into some rain. I put heavy emphasis on the word "may", strap up the kayaks, waterproof my phone, douse myself in bug repellent, and drive on over to Dad's house.
He comes down the stairs and meets me in his gravel driveway. He had a long sleeve quick dry T-shirt that he no doubt acquired for free from one of his past triathlons, a pair of long khaki cargo pants that looked like they belonged to one of the members of Duck Dynasty, and a green Tilly hat. He opens the car door and takes a seat next to me.
"What on Earth are you wearing? It's like 90 something degrees outside," I ask.
He looks down at his pants, "It's all breathable. I don't want to get sunburnt."
I make a gentle scoff and put the car in reverse.
I'm disappointed to see waves when we pull up to the edge of the boat launch. Clearly spoiled from my last kayaking trip..
I give Dad a push out into the water and he rocks back and forth trying to find his balance. We roll out and the thought of taking it slow doesn't even cross my mind. After a while I look back and ask Dad if this speed is okay, is it too fast, too slow, what?
"I don't know, you've got a nice little clip on you," he laughed.
We make it around the bend and come to the area right before the opening to the Bay. The waves pick up and I hesitate to keep going. The worst thing is to get caught in the current, you end up kayaking on a treadmill going absolutely nowhere. So we sit.
The sun gleaming down on us, rain clouds threatening, waves rocking, mowers mowing, the usual drama in Mallini's. After about 15 minutes of lounging in the yaks, I ask Dad if he wants to turn around. His head pops up and he smiles, "Oh, I almost fell asleep, it's so peaceful out here."
That makes me happy.
Distance 2.65 miles
Time 1:13:45
Min/Mile 27:50
Calories 275
The only down side.. all of my friends are gone. Well, all three of them. Nonetheless, my options for kayak partners has dramatically decreased. Patrick is still here of course, finishing up his last year of high school, but he hates kayaking. So that's a dud. My sister is around, but she's too glued to studying her precious notecards. There's mom, but she's too tired, too busy, and far too grouchy. So that really only leaves one person.
My father.
When I asked him if he would like to go, he responded with ample enthusiasm.
"OF COURSE! I've been telling you since you bought it that I would LOVE to go kayaking with you!! Thank you so much for asking me, sweetie!"
It would be good. He's a triathlete and an Iron Man so I knew he would be able to keep up with me and that he wouldn't complain. I asked where he wanted to go and naturally he said, "It doesn't matter to me, Jillianne. I'm just happy to spend time with you." So I took him where I take all new-comers, Mallini's. It was the perfect place for beginners. Great sense of scenery, surrounded by houses, plenty of wildlife, all while having an easy compact route.
The morning of our adventure, I check the radar and see that we may run into some rain. I put heavy emphasis on the word "may", strap up the kayaks, waterproof my phone, douse myself in bug repellent, and drive on over to Dad's house.
He comes down the stairs and meets me in his gravel driveway. He had a long sleeve quick dry T-shirt that he no doubt acquired for free from one of his past triathlons, a pair of long khaki cargo pants that looked like they belonged to one of the members of Duck Dynasty, and a green Tilly hat. He opens the car door and takes a seat next to me.
"What on Earth are you wearing? It's like 90 something degrees outside," I ask.
He looks down at his pants, "It's all breathable. I don't want to get sunburnt."
I make a gentle scoff and put the car in reverse.
I'm disappointed to see waves when we pull up to the edge of the boat launch. Clearly spoiled from my last kayaking trip..
I give Dad a push out into the water and he rocks back and forth trying to find his balance. We roll out and the thought of taking it slow doesn't even cross my mind. After a while I look back and ask Dad if this speed is okay, is it too fast, too slow, what?
"I don't know, you've got a nice little clip on you," he laughed.
We make it around the bend and come to the area right before the opening to the Bay. The waves pick up and I hesitate to keep going. The worst thing is to get caught in the current, you end up kayaking on a treadmill going absolutely nowhere. So we sit.
The sun gleaming down on us, rain clouds threatening, waves rocking, mowers mowing, the usual drama in Mallini's. After about 15 minutes of lounging in the yaks, I ask Dad if he wants to turn around. His head pops up and he smiles, "Oh, I almost fell asleep, it's so peaceful out here."
That makes me happy.
Distance 2.65 miles
Time 1:13:45
Min/Mile 27:50
Calories 275
Friday, September 5, 2014
Where's Brutus?
Okay, so, this post isn't about a kayak excursion. Instead, it's about the blog's new mascot.
An alligator named Brutus.
He is a 5 foot stuffed animal alligator that Sarah Anne got for me as a I'm-Sorry-I-Have-To-Go-To-College-While-You-Stay-Here-Without-Me gift. Pretty darn sweet of her, I know.
He's one of the best things anyone has ever given me. Partly because it was a complete surprise. And I love surprises.. especially ones that are almost as big as I am. He's life size and even better than a real alligator because I can hug him and he won't snap at me. And the best part is, now I don't have to wait to get back on the yak in order to see a gator! There's a nice soft one chilling in my bed 24/7.
Also, the name Brutus, if you're an avid Disney fan, you may already know, but he's named after one of Medusa's alligators in The Rescuers.
So look out for Brutus, maybe one day I'll even take him out kayaking with me.
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