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.

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.

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.

Holiday

   Happy Easter holiday!! Anyone who doesn't celebrate Easter, I understand, congratulations on making it through another week! I am on vacation right now, and I thought in honor of that, I would post about the first time I went kayaking.  That's right! The FIRST time! It was one year ago and happened over Easter break at this same vacation spot (feeling nostalgic).  It's a very cozy and beyond beautiful spot in Alabama.  Mom, Christina (my sister), Sarah Anne, and I got there on a Thursday and were staying until Monday.  That gave us 5 days for opportunities to kayak.  This was while I had my kayak obsession but had yet to get one of my own.  The hotel was on the beach so I knew they kayak rentals, free for guests of the hotels.  That's what I'm talking about, unlimited FREE kayaking! This was going to be the best 5 days of my life!

   Day One:  Rain.  No problem, I still have 4 more days.

   Day Two:  High winds bringing in more rain, water is far too choppy.  No problem, little bit of a downer, but no problem.  

   Day Three:  Only free time we had was in the middle of the day and the water was so wavy we would have flipped immediately.  I want water that looks like glass.

   Day Four:  This has to be the day!! We leave tomorrow and I WILL go kayaking!! We get to the rentals at 6:10 to find out they closed at 6.  I cry.

   Day Five:
   Sarah Anne and I wake up at 7:30 to pack and make sure we are all ready to go.  I slip on my Chacos that are still wet from last night, spray sunscreen on my back, and we run downstairs so we can be the first people at the rentals at 8.
   Not even Jesus himself could have painted a more perfect morning.  The water is as blue as the sky and as still as a rock, not even a ripple.  Pelicans hang by calmly, enjoying the morning as well.  The man at the shop is happy to see us and asks if we want one kayak or two.  Huh?  I didn't know there was an option.  We look at each other and shrug our shoulders, "One?" He smiles and says, "One it is."  He gives us some paperwork to fill out, agreeing that we are not minors and consent to the safety precautions and won't sue the hotel if something goes terribly wrong.  The thing was, I in fact was a minor, my birthday was two months from then, but when I was asked to check that box, there wasn't a bone in my body that was about to let a scribble of ink stand in my way of kayaking, so I checked it without hesitation and grabbed a life vest.
   The was the first time I had ever been kayaking and this was after I had spent months obsessing over kayaks so you can imagine how...happy I was in this moment in time.  It was a level of Euphoria that I haven't found since.
   Sarah Anne sat in the front while I sat in the back since I was better at steering, a lesson we learned years ago in summer camp when we went canoeing.  We only had an hour so we didn't waste anytime.  We were hauling tail across that water!  There were two of us so we were going as fast as the birds flying overhead.  We made it towards one end of the beach where the sand meets the rocks and the rocks meet the piers.  I check my watch and we had only been out here for 10 minutes so far! I thought for sure it would be longer than that.  One of those "Time flies when you're having fun" type moments.  So we stopped.  We were now facing the part of Mobile Bay that isn't blocked off by Mobile, it was just open water.  And, hand to God, the water and the sky was the exact same color.  We could not tell where the water ended and the sky began.  It was one of the coolest things I have ever seen.  Then all of a sudden, a nearby pelican take off from his post to catch some breakfast.  He glides down to the water and hurls his head under the surface to snag something in its beak.  It was as if he was a cutout resting on a piece of blue construction paper and then the paper begins the wiggle and ripple as soon as he meets the unseen horizon.  We drift for a few moments, comparing ourselves to a scene in Life of Pi.
   Sarah Anne turns around and says, "This is pretty sweet."
   I don't say anything back, just continue to admire where I am.
   "I get it now."
   My eyes open and I look at her.
   "Why you want a kayak so badly, I mean.  I get it."

   

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.

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.

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.

Closed For Season: A New Tale About An Old Time

I'M ALIVE!
   It's been a while.  I know.  But believe it or not, it does in fact get pretty chilly down here on the Gulf Coast.  Maybe not chilly from a northern's perspective, but certainly not warm enough to go water sporting.  So my kayaking adventures have been put on hiatus.  Maybe there will be a warm spell here soon, but until that magical day when I am reunited with Sunburst I thought I would just go on telling tales about the kayaking days before this glorious blog.. ahem.. I mean "movement", came along.  If that's alright with you all, of course.

   "Letting Trea take the lead was a mistake."
   "Why am I even following him?"
   "I should turn around and go back to the car."
   "I could take a nap in the car."
   "Would he even notice that I was gone?"
   "Doubt it."
   "Jesus, letting him take the lead was a mistake."

   Those are the things that flood my mind as I watch Trea's figure get smaller and smaller in the boundless water.  I sit in the mouth of the Bay, sipping my water, listening to my Alternative Indie Love Song Pandora radio station.  By this point, the only way I can see Trea is because of his neon orange life vest.  He's now smaller than a speck, bobbing up and down.

   "That jerk is trying to get to the Bay Bridge," I think to myself.
   A few more brief moments go by before I say, quite loudly, "UGH! Fine."
   I grab my paddle and hurl myself towards him.

   The peak of the Bay Bridge is approximately two miles from where I was sitting.  Two miles is nothing.  Trea and I have covered that in no time at all.  But.. that was when we were side by side, had house to talk about, birds to whistle to, small crabs to count, and plenty of other things to keep our minds occupied while traveling.  Open water is a completely different kind of beast.
   There are waves.  Lots and lots of waves.  And not the pretty little ripply waves.  No.  These are the waves that threaten to flip your yak every time they hit.  There is nothing to look at, except your bare legs looking like sitting ducks to the blinding smoldering exposed sun, and of course, the Bridge itself.
   With the bridge being your only focal point, time passes WAY more slowly.  With the waves ganging up on you, the whole ride is just a game of two steps forward, one step back.  So it takes more time than I would have liked.  The bridge was not getting any bigger and neither was Trea.  Time was frozen, and not in the good way.  I wasn't getting any closer, but the mouth of the bay, where I had come from, had practically diappeared.  Something was wrong.  At a point, I did start to lose my mind. .
   Only two thoughts were repeating through my sunbaked brain:
     I'm gonna die out here.
     I hate Trea.

   After 38 billion hours, I'm there.  Trea welcomes me with a high fave, "Hey! I didn't think you were going to make it!"
   I scoff, "Neither did I."

   Sitting under a bridge that you travel over everyday is quite the experience.  You look up and listen to the cars overhead.  They're all just continuing with their daily routine, completely unaware of the fact that two friends are sitting under them, drinking water, listening to a nearby fisherman's country station, absolutely dreading the moment when one of them decides it's time to go back.
   Trea breaks first, "Well.."
   "-Shut up.  Can we just catch a ride back with one of these friendly boaters?"
   He laughs, "It won't be that bad! The sun will be on our backs, the current will be on our side, and I'll stay with you the whole time.  It will go by in blink."
   I agree, hesitantly.
   And he was wrong.  Oh my God, he was wrong.  About everything.

   Kayaking on what might as well have been a treadmill to the middle of the Bay Bridge and back earned Trea and I major bragging rights.  But you'll never see us jumping at the chance to do it again.




 

Bay Mouth

A Video for your Enjoyment

Sae and the Sea

Bliss

No Wave

The Loop, Part II

   Sarah Anne and I put the mud cookies away and turn the kayaking playlist back on, bracing ourselves for the four mile trek ahead of us.
   The whole scene had a very spooky feel to it.  Yes, it was breathtakingly beautiful, but it was also very frightening.  The neighboring houses had no members sitting on their porches, there were no birds serenading us with their song, the lawns had no lawnmowers erupting over them.  The only sound was the occasional mullet that would hurl itself out of the water and flop back into again.  The water was the stillest I've ever seen it and the air was crisp with warmth.  Just sitting there, I could almost see my previous worries evaporating up into the empty air.  I sort of didn't want to move.  It felt like time was frozen and I had found myself in an Edward Hopper painting, but if I moved, reality would strike and the waves would assume their place.  That's what it felt like anyway.
   I took a deep breath and began to gently pull my way forward.  Sarah Anne followed as we traveled along the shore, under and around piers that had been destroyed by past hurricanes and abandoned by their previous caretakers.  Leaving them alone in the water, each post jaggedly poking out covered in barnacles and slimy moss.  We passed an eerie post that hung horizontally, and atop it sat about a dozen pelicans, eyeing us.  Some would fly away and head for further ground when we passed by and others would remain, their eyes sitting in their fowl head following our every movement.  Sarah Anne and I quietly came to a stop in an attempt to snap some pictures of the flock.  The sun was blinding causing my phone's screen to appear black, but I went on capturing the moment anyway.
   We drifted on by silently and once we passed the herd of birds, Sarah Anne asked if I would play some of the Pocahontas soundtrack.  I don't think there is any music more appropriate for a kayaking excursion.

   We make it to the Bay bridge and rest in its shade.  I pull out my phone and tell Sae that we should make a fun video.  We film each other paddling around, trying to be sneaky, and when we're finished I put the footage to the Pink Panther theme song.  Just something fun for the Instagram followers..

   Mallini's other opening was right next to the bridge, so we knew we were over half way there.  We paddled on, we were both beginning to feel the strain in our shoulders, but as Sarah Anne put it, "The faster we go, the sooner we get home." Wise words.
   This side of the loop was far more livelier than the other side had been.  Fishermen lined the docks, they tipped their hats when we passed by and we veered to one side or the other to not get caught in their fishing line.  One even suggested that we do circles around the fish and herd them towards the men.  Sarah Anne and I would just laugh and continue on our way.
   We passed the small harbor where Trea and I had seen the boat from New Jersey and then we passed Alligator Alley and I told Sae that we were getting closer.  She sighed a sigh of relief as the house got more and more in our reach.  To continue with the Pocahontas theme, I said, "The house is just around the river bend."
   Arms burning, water bottles empty, collars drenched with sweat, we landed.  My foot thudded against the ground and I wobbled when I stood.  I checked the RunKeeper app to see how far we had gone.. 4.93 miles.
   Sarah Anne hung her head when I told her.  "We could just go right back out and do a few spins to put us at 5," I suggested.
   She got out of her kayak, "If anyone asks, we did 5."


Distance  ≈ 5 miles
Time  2:06:08
Min/Mile  25:38
Calories  485

The Loop, Part I

   Sunday morning, I drive over to pick up Sarah Anne.  She comes out of the house with a little lunch box full of goodies, and I'm not just talking about food.  I ask her what's in it and she pulls out a bag of Mud cookies - homemade -,  some watermelon slices, and a bluetooth speaker.  I'm excited to see that, music always makes the kayaking trips that much more enjoyable, and my phone speaker would never be loud enough for the both us to hear.
   "The other day, someone told me I was looking a little more tan," she started, "I said, "Yeah, I'm a kayaker now."."
 
   I get the RunKeeper app and the kayak playlist going and we glide on out.  The water was as smooth as silk, making it that much easier to paddle.
   By now, Sae has mastered the kayak.  She still gets a little flustered when we have to turn around or back up, but she's always up for a challenge and never wants to fall too far behind me.  I knew we were making great time when we were almost to the bay, and sure enough, we get the notification saying we're going at a speed of 17 minutes per mile.
   "Oh my gosh!" Sarah Anne exclaims.
   "That is so good! The fastest Trea and I ever go is 22 min/mile! 17 is fantastic!" I say.
   "I knew we were bookin' it, my arms hurt. And I see you and I'm like 'How does she keep going?!' But then I remember you do this all the time.."
   I laugh and respond, "If you want to go slower, just let me know! I want you to have a good time!"
   "Oh no, this is great!" she smiles.
   I told her we would take a break when we reached the mouth of the bay and we continued onward.

   We reached the bay and I was without words.
   In all of my kayaking adventures, I had never seen the water like this.  There was not a wave in sight.  It looked as if one could walk right on the water.  The sky was crystal clear and the heat was tolerable.  The kind of heat that makes you sweat but doesn't make you want to go back inside.  My jaw hung open, I couldn't believe my eyes.  There were no waves to pull you in a certain direction or slow you down, you only move the way you want to move.  This was everything a kayaker could dream of.
   Sarah Anne hadn't been out as many times as I had so I knew she wouldn't fully appreciate it the way I did.  But I tried to explain the greatness of it to her as best as I could.
   "I'm going to suggest something, and if you don't want to do it, say so.  I'm only going to suggest it because I've never had the water like this and I know I won't have it again anytime soon," I paused, "but I think we should do the loop."
   From the house, one can get to the bay two ways: the way that is taken in Down By The Bay where Trea catapulted the dead fish at me, and the other way I've taken everyone else.  The house is right in the middle of the loop.  The loop is where you go out into the bay one way and come back the other way and go to the house.  Total distance is about 5 miles.  Trea and I had always wanted to do it, but the waves in the bay were always too choppy for us.
   Sarah Anne sighed, looked out at the movementless water, and said, "I guess we really don't have a choice."
   "Really?"
   "Yeah, let's do it," she smiles.

An Angelfish Among Fish

   I'm not going to complain about getting the kayaks on and off the car, or the dragonflies filling the air, or even the heat.  I'm too grateful and blinded by the fact that I actually got my angelfish, Patrick, to go kayaking with me.  Sure, he listened to podcasts about League of Legends for a majority of the time, but whatever.  
   We pull up to the same ole house and I, with Patty watching, unstrap the yaks and place them in the water.  I toss him a life vest and he begins to snap it on before I ask, "You're going with your shirt? Or are you going to go rogue and take it off?"
   He blushes and quietly says, "Okay."
   "I was just asking!" I laugh, "Trea always takes his off, so I don't know. You can leave it on."
   "No, I'll take it off," he motions for me to turn around.
   "Big baby," I grumble.
   "What was that?" he laughed.
   I turn back around, his shirt was off and life vest was on, "Nothing," I say with a big grin, "let's go."

   After what felt like hours, my RunKeeper app notified us that we were traveling 1 mile every 37 minutes.  When I heard this, I couldn't help from laughing.
   "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! COMING IN AT A WHOPPING SPEED OF 34 MINUTES PER MILE, THE LIGHTNING FAST.... PATRICK!!!" I shout out to all of the surrounding homes.
   Patrick glides past me in his kayak, lips pursed, "Okay, you're gonna need to stop."
   "Stop?" I throw my hands up to my cheeks, "You mean we've actually been moving this whole time?" I laugh at my own joke, Patty continues down the way, unamused.
 
   The sun was beginning to go down, creating a golden haze all around us.  I snap a few pictures of Patty with sun beans coming in from behind him as we make our way to the golf course and float around in between two holes.  I then start to paddle my way over to the shallow grassy part of the waters.
   "What are you doing?" Patty asks.
   "Fishing out a golf ball.  Would you like one, angelfish?"
   "Absolutely not.  That's stealing, I'm not going to be a felon," he paddles away from me, "I'm going to stay over here.  Completely unaffiliated with you."
   "Whatever," I mumble as I pull a pink golf ball out of the muddy ground, keeping an eye out for any snakes, "I'm getting you one anyway."

   After a while, I pause to take a picture of the setting sun, and a tuckered Patty again glides past me saying, "That's it, leisurely.  Nice and slow.  Leisurely pace.  The world already moves so fast, why make it go faster?" He turns around and says to me, "You know, the turtle did win that race."

Distance  3.78 miles
Time  2:07:11
Min/Mile  33:38
Calories  467


 

'No Wake'

   Since this is Sarah Anne's first time kayaking, I have no choice but to take her to Mallini's, the usual, since it's an easy route and plenty of scenery.
   Back at the house, it's comforting to see that nothing has changed.  Despite longer grass and deeper tire tracks, everything is as it was when I left it last.
   Sarah Anne parks the truck at the edge of the water and I note that the tide is low, making it easier to travel under the bridges we'll be encountering.
   "This is pretty," she smiles.
   "Isn't it?" I laugh.
   She unhitches the latch of the truck and lowers the gate so we can just slide the yaks right out into the water.  I attach my new paddle to my new paddle leash and clip it onto the storage unit in the back of my kayak.  Sarah Anne hops in her yak and I give her a little push out into the water before doing the same.
   Now, Sarah Anne is one of my dearest friends, she's absolutely brilliant and I love her to death, but when I look back and see her rocking around in her yak, turning in one direction and then the other all in a single stroke, I can't help but laugh.
   I watch her continue to struggle before asking, "You got it?" even though it was clear that she indeed did not get it.
   But she smiles and responds, "Yeah, you go on, I'm right behind you."
   I laughed but paddled on anyway, taking it slow.  I didn't want her to get lost or get eaten by an alligator or something like that.
   We yak down my usual route, whistling at the birds, answering the neighbors when they call out to us, "Lovely day for that!"
   After a while I hear Sarah Anne say, "How do you go so straight?! You make it look so easy!" she says as she continues her perfect chevron pattern through the water.
   Eventually, she does get the hang of it..sort of.  I slow down as she gets faster and we meet in the middle.
   "So does this kayak have a name?" she asks.
   "Mhmm, Ohana."
   "Oh that's so cute! Because it's blue! Like Stitch!"
   I laugh aloud, "Yeah, it's pretty precious."
   "What about yours?"
   Taken aback, I say, "No, I've never thought about it.  What would be a good name for it?"
   She looks at my bright orangeish-yellowish kayak, thinks for a moment, and then smiles, "Sunburst, very hippie, very tribal, perfect for you."
   "That is perfect.  Perfect name for a kayak.  I'll have it painted on in no time," I smile.
   We continue down the way, and before long, we're in the bay.  I stop paddling and Sarah Anne looks confused.
   "This is when we take a break."
   She nods and puts down her paddle, soaking in the view.
   We take pictures and chat, bobbing up and down over the waves.
   Sarah Anne points at one of the many signs posted all over that reads 'No Wake' and asks, "What does that mean?"
   I explain that a wake is the waves caused by a boat or technically anything moving through the water and she responds, "Ohh! I was wondering.  Those signs are all over the place and I was like "What an odd thing to put on a sign, you can't have a wake here?" but your definition makes more sense."
   I burst out laughing, clutching my stomach, throwing my head back, "Oh Sae, you kill me!"

   On the way back, I decide to take us through Alligator Alley.  The chances of us actually running into a gator were slim, but it's worth it.  She didn't want to see one, but I had my fingers crossed.  I lead the way, pointing out all of the tiny crabs that line the banks of the water.  There were thousands of them, the size of my thumb nail, crawling up and down the tree roots and grass near the water's edge.  We travel under the first bridge, and I was shocked that Sarah Anne made it through without hitting something or getting her paddle stuck somewhere.
   "Here gator gator gator," I whistle with a grin.
   "Cut it out," I hear Sarah Anne say from behind me.
   I laugh and continue on under the second and final bridge.  She makes her way out and I push her in the shoulder, "Look at you! Made it through the wilderness, and no gators!"
   She smirks and passes by me.
   Just around the corner is the house, I paddle up and Sarah Anne says, "That's it!"
   "That's it!" I laugh.
   "But that was so great!"
   I paddle up the boat launch and come to a halt, "We'll be back, don't fret, hun."

Distance  3.17 miles
Time  1:15:13
Min/Mile  24:29
Calories  298
 
 

Cousin Time

   I walk out of my room at 7 a.m. and smile at Graham who was sound asleep on the living room floor.

   "Graham," I call out to him. He moans and rolls over. 

   "Hun, wake up, we've got to go," I say.  

   He rubs his eyes and whispers, "Okay, I'm up."

   I proceed over to the kitchen and find Mom and Lois chatting about something or another.  Lois's face lights up when I walk in and asks, "Is he up? Are you two going?"

   I laugh, "Psh, of course we're going."

   On the ride over, Graham offers me some Wheat Thins as he looks out the window.  We pull up to the house and he asks, "Do you know these people?" I smile, "Nope, I just wave and smile when they ask if I need help."

   We put the yaks in the water and I hand Graham the better paddle and I take the.. less better one.  He sits in his blue yak and I push him out into the water.  Quickly getting in mine, I push out and paddle in front of him, taking the lead.  

   He follows closely behind before eventually getting the hang of it and surpassing me.   He asks me questions about my previous kayak adventures as we paddle onward.  I try to pick up the pace so we can make it out to the Bay and back all in our one hour time frame.  I point out "Alligator Alley" when we pass it and tell him that if he didn't have a plane to catch, I'd take him down there.  He laughs and says, "Next time then."

   The water is still and the sun remains tolerable.  Mullets hurl themselves out of the water around us and I tell Graham about the time a much bigger fish almost jumped right into Trea's kayak.  

   We make it out into the bay and we say good morning to the fishermen who are slowly beginning to know me as a regular.  I tell Graham not to go past a certain lone pier post, saying that past that point is where the water gets choppy.  We stop paddling and just sit and watch the sun reflect over the water as if thousands of tiny crystals were falling from the sun, dancing on the waves.  No boats are out yet and everything is as quiet as can be. 

   Over on the rocks a few yards away, a white bird catches my eye.  He was creeping up and down the rocks looking for something to catch in the water.  Its legs made up 70% of its body and his head was crouched down to the ground.  I slowly make my way over to him, trying to get as close as I can without scaring him off.  Graham follows and the bird stops.  He stares directly at Graham and crouches even lower to the ground than before.  Graham makes a face at the bird, I snap a pic, and then the bird takes off, flying directly over Graham, making his way over to the other set of rocks where there won't be any goofy teenagers bothering him. 

   I ask Graham if he likes it and he responds, "Yeah, this is pretty sweet," in one of the most sincerest ways I have ever heard anything been said.  

   I look at my watch and tell him we've gone about 1.5 miles.  He seems impressed and looks out at the open water one last time before we head back to the house. 

Distance 2.61 miles

Time 57:32

Min/Mile 22:02

Calories 228

Down By The Bay

     We drive down the dusty little trail and come to a stop as we reach the edge of the launch.  Trea and I sit in the car, watching the temperature go from 90 degrees to 91 degrees.  After a few moments of silence, I turn to him and say with a grin, "It's not too late to turn around and go home." He laughs but responds, "It's not a hobby if you don't enjoy it." So we unload the kayaks, attach our paddles, buckle our life vests, say good morning to the adorable family who allows us to use their boat launch at our disposal, and then head out.  We each press play on our individual Pandora stations and I hit start in my RunKeeper app to begin the workout.

     I take the front, leading us around the bend. The sun shining brightly down on me, the sound of my kayak's teeny tiny wake following me.  We travel around the island, whistling at the family of egrets sitting on an abandoned wooden bench.  The tide pulls us out with it, making it much easier to paddle through the swampy waters.  A few boats motor past us, the children smiling and pointing, before we reach a small harbor.  To our surprise, there was actually a boat all the way from New Jersey. We paddle under a small bridge, pausing for a moment to take refuge in its cool shade.  After a few more turns, we see the bay.  A shallow part approaches so we stay to the right in order not to get stuck in the murky sand.  The waves become greater as we drift out farther into the bay.  Trea catches up to me and grabs ahold of the side of my kayak.  We sit and chat and then all of a sudden we wash up on the sandy and rocky coast.  Trea's kayak crashing into mine, causing water to flood over, soaking my shorts.  Thankfully my kayak was self-bailing; Trea didn't have such luck.  He sees something floating a few feet away from him and asks what it is.  I say, "Either a Styrofoam cup or maybe it's the Kraken." He laughs and goes to investigate.  Turns out it's the head of a dead fish.  He picks it up out of the water and holds it up so I can see.  I cringe and he pulls it back as if he's about to throw it at me.  I shriek as he hurls it in my direction, he laughs as it just misses me and lands on the sand. "You're such a girl," he smiles.  I laugh, "I'm sorry I don't like fish carcasses being thrown at me."  I get out and pull my kayak onto the shore, taking a gulp from my water bottle.  Trea wrestles with the waves and heads back out in the water.  I stay on the beach, laughing at him, before eventually pushing mine back into the bay and not-so-gracefully getting into the yak.  We paddle back into calmer waters and then take a breath.  Trea turns to me and asks, "Ready to head back?"

Distance 3.24 miles
Time 1:22:27
Min/Mi 25:29
Calories 321