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 180ยบ. 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.
Showing posts with label pelicans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pelicans. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Thursday, April 2, 2015
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."
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."
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
Friday, December 26, 2014
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.
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.
Thursday, August 21, 2014
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 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
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