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.

GUEST SPEAKER: A Word From Sarah Anne

   Attention all #backontheyak readers, 

   This is Sarah Anne.  Maybe you remember me from some of Jillianne’s many kayaking excursions or maybe you don’t in which case this is awkward.  Anyway, I don’t have much time before Jillianne notices that I’ve hacked into her blog, and I still need to tell you all the truth.  You need to know the truth about kayaking.

   When Jillianne first asked me to kayak with her, I was genuinely excited.  Visions of high speed descents through raging rapids and close encounters with large boulders filled my mind and I was so happy knowing that we weren’t doing any of that.  We would be enjoying a peaceful cruise over the consistently calm waters of Mallini’s.  No daring escapades, no near death experiences, heck, we would even have life vests.  It couldn’t have been better.  Then the morning of our adventure arrived with the obnoxious shriek of my alarm clock.  Blearily, I looked at the time.  6:30 a.m. It’s at times like this when I start to question my motivations in life.  I am not a morning person and the act of rising before the sun goes against my internal programming.  However, Jillianne had her heart set on our trip and she needed my car so I chalked it up to my chance to be a good friend and hopped to it.

   After being guided to the right spot, we unloaded the yaks and after several shaky attempts, I managed to sit in the blue one without falling over.  Jillianne gave it a shove so that I floated out into the clear water where I gleefully splashed around as I waited for her to follow suit.  Gracefully she glided past and swiftly started to lead the way to our new destination.  With renewed enthusiasm, I grabbed my paddle, plunged it into the cool water, pulled back with all my strength, my eyes locked on Jillianne’s trail, and sharply veered left almost into a wooden dock.  Confused, I tried again, this time shifting horribly to the right.  I quickly glanced at Jillianne to see how she was easily rotating her paddle, almost as if drawing circles on each side.  Perhaps, the circumferences of my circles weren’t the proper size, I thought as I gripped my paddle, determined to master this technique.  Left.  Right. Left. Right. Left. Almost straight but still too far right.  My arms were burning as I kept zigzagging through the once welcoming water. Had the sun always been this hot?  Why was Jillianne still so far ahead?  Was that a vulture?  Suddenly, Jillianne turned around and asked if I was okay.  Pride took over.  Although it had felt like hours, it had only been maybe five minutes.  I couldn’t give up, not like this, so I smiled.

   “Yeah I got it, you go on ahead.”  Seemingly satisfied with my answer, she turned back and continued to paddle forward.  My smile turned grim as my paddle dove back into the water.  I had no choice but to survive this.  After all, there’s no retreat once you’re out on the water and you lack the skill to get out of the boat by yourself.

   Eventually, I managed to have a few moments where my yak went straight and I even managed to catch up to Jillianne when she stopped.  After a while, she told me it was break time and I dropped that paddle like it was hot.  I gulped down some water as she serenely gazed at our surroundings with a smile on her face.  Turning to see what was so wonderful, I nearly dropped my bottle.  Somehow, we had made it to the bay where the water was wavy with a deep blue color, the seagulls were chirping overhead, and oh my goodness was the sea breeze blowing.  As we bobbed up and down, I couldn’t help but marvel at the experience of being present in such a picturesque scene.  The morning sky was filled with wispy, white clouds that stood out against the increasingly blue background and the sun was illuminating the trees just right so that their green leaves looked like emeralds.  In this moment, I realized the truth behind kayaking.  It’s difficult, it makes you get up early, it makes your arms ache, it can make you question your sanity, and can bring you to some of the most astounding locations.  What’s even more amazing is that the more you go, the more you can see.  Even if you’ve driven past a place countless times or kayaked through it numerous times, there is always something just around the river bend that you’ve never seen before.  Maybe it’s the way the light refracts off the water’s surface or the way the current carries a cluster of leaves towards the sea, you never know what you’ll find.  Sure, it requires a bit of effort, or a lot of effort, but the chance to see the world in a new perspective is something that makes it all worth it.

   “Are you ready to head back?” Jillianne asked me, her kayak already pointing away from the bay.  I took one last glance at the scene before nodding my head.  We made it back in one piece, loaded the yaks back up into the truck, and before I knew it, I was back home sitting on my couch too tired to move.  My mom walked in and quickly asked about how it went.  My mind flashed to that deep blue bay as I replied, 

   “Not bad at all.”

   There you have it.  That is my unadulterated truth behind kayaking.  Maybe you have a different one, and that’s okay too.  It just gives me another reason to head back out there, back into the still water, because the more I kayak, the more I see and perhaps one day, I’ll catch a glimpse of another truth just waiting to be discovered underneath those glimmering waves.  

An Open Letter To My Chacos

   I'd like to take a moment and dedicate this post to something that has literally taken me as far as I have come these past couple of years: My Pair of Chacos.  For those of you coming from the other side of the world (Shoutout to India, France, and Poland! How about everyone in South America?), Chaco is a brand of sandal, but there is always a variety of tennis shoes, flip flops, and other footwear.  The sandals are pretty standard, a thick rubber sole with a few tightly woven straps zig-zagging over the foot.  They are frequently called "Jesus sandals" by us Westerners of course.  

   My pair are red and they have walked with me across the country and throughout many experiences.  When my dad bought them for me for my 17th birthday, I knew he was hesitant about spending the price for a pair of shoes that I may wear for a few weeks and then lose interest in.  But after two years of seeing me in them 9 out of 10 days, he said, "You sure have gotten your share out of those shoes, haven't you Jillianne?"  These shoes have climbed the urban hills of San Francisco, felt the chill from Lake Tahoe, walked the beaches of Florida, and comforted me through countless college tours.  They were there for me when my shift at work was over and my feet couldn't take another minute of being in 5-inch heels.  And most of all, they have been on every kayaking trip, leaving my feet permanently tanned in a zigzag pattern.  

   When I got to college, a friend of Sarah Anne's looked at them and rudely asked, "What are those shoes?"  Sarah Anne quickly said, "They're Chacos.  They're the official shoe for kayaking."  What was said as just a comeback (and a great one, I must say) is now a believable slogan.  The shoes provide traction.  As I'm carefully stepping into my kayak when there is a terribly low tide and the ground is coated in mud, my Chacos are there to make sure I don't come crashing down.  When I'm paddling through the unexpected current, my Chacos are there to keep my feet breathing.  On especially hot days, when the sun is out with a vengeance, my Chacos are there to make it easy for me to dip my feet off the side of my yak to cool them off in the nice water.  

   I hope this doesn't sound too over-privileged-white-girl, but I had to say something to the shoes that carry me through every day.  They are such a simple thing that would be deeply missed if gone missing, but yet they are something that so many people take for granted. 

   If you have a minute, take a look here for yourself.

   They won't let you down.  And hey, wear them all year.  Socks and sandals, no shame.  

Pocahontas

 

   A completely whimsical trip, often the best ones are.  My sister had never been kayaking, mainly because her schedule never allowed it and she never wanted to wake up at seven in the morning to leave.  But this Thursday was perfect timing.  I was home for my manmade Easter break (college kids: don't skip class when you're sick, save the skip days so you can leave for a week and do something worth doing, like leaving the state to go to a 5-star hotel with family and friends) and Nina was in between extracurriculars.  Ballet had just ended and play rehearsal was about to begin, and she was off this week for her actual spring break, which meant that we could go in the morning with no problems.  I even promised her that we could leave around 8 rather than 7 so she could still have an idea of sleeping in.
   When we get up that morning, I tell her to fill two bottles of water while I'm strapping the kayaks to the car.  After about 10 minutes, I wonder what's taking her so long.  I go in the house and find her sitting on the couch.
   "What are you doing?" I ask.
   "Waiting for you," she responds.
   I'm shocked, "What? Then come outside and help me.  There's always something to do, Nina."
   She sighs and follows me outside.  I show her how to fasten the straps properly so she'll be able to do it when we have to put the kayaks back on the car after our adventure.  She doesn't understand, but after a while she gets the hang of it.

   I push Nina out in the water and she screams, "How do you go straight!?!"
   "Figure it out."
   The tide is coming in so I'm a little embarrassed.  A first time kayaker should not have any waves to worry about or fight against.  It should just be peace and quiet.
   After we start heading towards the bay area, I get a text from Mom.

   Are you two okay?
   Lifevests??!!!
   Where's Christina?

   *sigh* I turn around to see where Nina is.  She's way behind me.  I wait for her to get closer before snapping a picture and sending it to Mom to ease her worries.
   Mom quickly responds, obviously relieved we haven't been eaten yet.

   She looks like Pocahontas!! :)

   I laugh and respond saying she is Pocahontas.
   Christina floats up next to me, panting.
   "You okay?" I ask.
   "Yeah, I just thought this was going to be a nice peaceful trip.  Not a sprint."
   I apologize and try to explain that I'm not going that quickly intentionally.  She understands and I make an effort to stay near her.
   As we travel, I narrate everything to her.  "This is where we saw an alligator.  This is where a horsefly attacked me.  Over there is the golf course.  This is where Uncle Mike and I saw the dog.  This is where a fish almost jumped right into Trea's kayak.
  When we start to pass the grassy areas and I tell her that she can go in that way and she'll meet me in the same place when she comes out.
   "Oh really!? Can I do it?" she asks.
   "Yeah, just go right in there."
   "I will," she nods, but paddles towards the other direction.
   "No, Nina, that way," I point.
   Quickly, "I know! I'm trying.  I don't know how you go so straight!"

Something Frowned Upon

   A few posts ago, I mentioned a time when Trea had to hoist me up onto a bridge so I could get some water.  As exhilarating as that sentence sounds, I thought that I would go into more detail, because believe it or not there is more to that story.  So here we go.  Trea darling, if I get something wrong, I apologize for it in advance.

   It's 10 o'clock in the morning, Trea and I have been out on this water for two and half hours already.  During the end of May, the sun is ruthless.  It does not hesitate to boil your skin and soul until they have been welded together in some inhumane fashion.  It sends any chance of a breeze running for cover, and rightly the breeze should.  We were the fools who wanted to be in those conditions, asking for trouble.  When we set "sail" into the water I realized that I had left my water bottle, my lovely one liter iced filled water bottle, in the car.  I being the fool thought that it wouldn't be that bad without it, we wouldn't go too fast and we wouldn't go too far, I could make it until we made it back to the car.  Yes, I know, I win the award for biggest fool.  Two and half hours later I quickly realized that.  Trea had water, but it too had been damaged by the cruel sun hanging maliciously in the sky, and there was no way I was about to drink after him.  When we paddled through the golf course I spotted a small shack just off the bank.  It housed two bathrooms and a water fountain that from my perspective seemed to be blessed by the Gods themselves.  I quickly looked around the edges of the water, searching for a place that would sit my kayak comfortably while I could easily step out onto firm earth.  Unfortunately there was no such luck, all edges in that area are covered with thick tall grass that grows out from the muddy bottom of the water making it impossible to pull a kayak into it never mind trying to step out.  I already had a death wish with the sun, I wasn't about to up the chances by battling a water moccasin.  After deliberating, I sheepishly look over at Trea who was fishing for golf balls.  "Trea?" I call out to him.  "Hmm?" he responds curtly.  I stutter, "Could you help me?"  He sighs and points his kayak in my direction.  As he gets closer, he reaches out for the side of my yak and grabs hold of it, pulling us side by side.  "What?" he smiles.  I gesture up towards the bridge, "Could you maybe give me a lift?"  He shields the sun away from his eyes with his hand as he peers upward.  "I'll hold your kayak steady.  You stand and pull yourself up."  That sounded as good a plan as any so I didn't object.  He reached his arm over so he could hold the other side of my kayak as well.  Finding my balance was the tricky part, my kayak was not made to be stood upon.  I reached up for one of the beams in the bridge before I really found my footing and hoisted myself onto it.  The kayak wobbled beneath me as I pulled one leg up after another.  Just as I had both feet up, we hear a golf cart approaching.  We had no idea if trespassing was.. well, trespassing, but we didn't think these golf members would take too kindly to two kids kayaking and then busting up in their club to use their facilities.  Trea yelled quietly at me as I leaped across the bridge into the grass to the water fountain, "GO! Go go go! Act like you belong! If someone says something, say we just paddled in from New Orleans! Go!... Don't run! Calm, Jillianne, calm!"  Anything that happened after that was a blur, because I had water.  To be honest, I don't think I have ever had anything that tasted sweeter.  It was by far the best thing that had ever graced my lips in a very long time.  I pulled away and held my head to the sky as I took a breath and then took a few more gulps before running back across the bridge.  Now, due to the extreme euphoria that had just entered my life, the next few actions probably didn't happen exactly the way I remember them happening.  What I remember is me flinging both legs over the railing of the bridge while holding it with one arm and balancing with the other and placing both of my feet just so in my kayak that all I had to do was just sit down and take the paddle from Trea.  I remember all of this happening in one quick fluid movement that I felt like I needed to be cast in the next James Bond movie.  I'm sure what actually happened was me landing in my kayak like a sack of potatoes, Trea laughing at me for five minutes, and my outfit becoming completely soaked by my lack of grace, along with multiple bruises and scrapes appearing from getting too cozy with the wooden bridge.  But I am going to go with the first one.  On the way back, Trea paddles next to me and says, "Oh!" as he reaches for something in between his feet, "While you were making a fool out of yourself, I got you this."  He opens his hand and reveals a bright yellow golf ball with a small shell pattern printed on it.  I smile and take it, "Thank you, Trea!  I will keep it always."  He scoffs with a smile, "Yeah, whatever," and paddles on in front of me.

The One with the Bears, not with Steve

   I'm sitting in the lounge, happily eating my chocolate chip cookie and sipping on a cup of coffee.  Mama Bear comes running in, balancing a stack of cookies with her coffee, "Jillianne, oh my gosh!  Do you know what we need to do?"  I set my glass down and shake my head.  She rotates her arms forward, gesturing a paddle, and whispers, "Kayaking."
   I laugh and roll my eyes, "It's late and it's kind of choppy out there.."
   "No, no, no it's not.  Not on the other side.  It's nice.  They don't close until 6, come on, we have plenty of time," she insists.  My mother walks in with her coffee and pulls up a chair to our table.  I tell her that Mama Bear wants to go kayaking, hoping that she will agree with me and then cunningly change the topic so it won't be brought up again until it is too late.  It works for a little while.
   At about 5:15, she asks again, "Please, Jillianne! You know we'll have a good time!  Just a short trip, please?"
   She's just too sweet, I sigh and say okay.
   "Was that a yes?" she gasps, "Oh my gosh, she said yes!"

   When we get to the rental shack I tell the young man there we want to kayak.  He clenches his jaw together and takes a deep breath in through his teeth, "We're closed, I'm sorry."
   "No you're not.  You close at six," I respond curtly.
   "Yeah, but we like to have everything back in by 5:30 so we can start shutting down.  I'm really sorry."
   I know I wasn't completely on board (no pun intended) with going kayaking that afternoon, but I still don't care for it when people don't do their jobs.  But I wasn't about to have a brawl with the hotel beach guy, so I turn around and tell my mom and Mama Bear the bad news.
   "Oh no.  You're not getting out of this one," she says to me and continues toward the hut.
   "Um, excuse me? Hi," she says to the guy (I would call him a man, but he isn't quite there yet)
   He tries to tell her the same thing he told me but she's not having it.
   "We'll be super quick, I promise.  It's our last night here, and we really wanted to go," she pleads.
   After a few minutes of back and forth, the man finally agrees..begrudgingly.  She yips with excitement and tells me not to act like I don't feel the same.
   We grab our life vests and paddles and head down to sit in our yellow two person kayak.  Papa Bear and Lil' John (their son, not the rapper or Robin Hood character) hop in the kayak next to us.
   I sit in the back so I can steer and say, "Okay, we're going to win and dominate."
   The man pushes us off the shore and I think about how nice it is that I can kayak without having to worry about the hassle that comes with it.  I won't have to put this beast back on my car when I'm done.  I won't have to take care of the paddle and put it away when I get home.  This yak is only my responsibility from the moment I leave the shore to the time I reach it again.  Then that guy has to take care of it.  This is awesome!
   Hauling tail across the water, we pull in front of Papa and John, only for a moment.  Their kayak comes closer to ours and Mama shrieks, begging them not to crash into us.  John holds out his paddle and rams into ours, pushing us away.  I point us back into the right direction but we lose our speed and they quickly pass us.  After a few moments, they turn to go back the other way, but we keep going.
   "Are you okay? Are you happy?" Mama Bear asks.
   I say yes but she turns around, "Are you?"
   Laughing, I say, "Yes, I am.  This is great!"

   When we make it back it to the sand, the guy is waiting and quickly pulls us in.
   Mama Bear thanks him again for letting us go and says, "But hey, now you get to be on her blog!"

 
   End Note:  This was during my Easter vacation at the same resort the last post was set at.  It was lovely and this kayaking trip, even though it was short lived, was still so much fun.  The Bears, not their real name, are our family-friends and are all very sweet.  I'm glad Mama Bear pushed me out to go kayaking that afternoon and I'm glad Papa and John got to go as well.  We would have brought our other family-friends with us, Steve and Belinda, so it would have been an army of kayakers!  But, alas, they were no where to be found.  Probably at the pool.  Oh well, next year.

   *There are more pics from this trip in The Gallery

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."

   

When Trea Flips Out

Since the post on Thursday was just a playlist.  Here's a treat:

   Back in the day, Trea and I had nothing to do but Kayak and run errands for our mothers.  So after about 5 times out kayaking (This was a few trips before we went out to the middle of the bridge), he finally asked me.. "Jillianne, have you ever practiced flipping your kayak?"  I gawk at him, "What? Why would you do that!"  He laughed at me, "You're supposed to have done that already! So in case it happens while you're out there, you'll know what to do!"  I sulk, "Oh, well... I don't plan on ever being in a situation where I'll flip over.  Calm water, that's me.  That's where I'll stay."  He laughed some more, clearly enjoying where this was going, "No, no, no.  You need to practice.."  He paddled closer to me.  I start paddling backwards, "Trea, you stay away from me,"  he reaches his arm out and nearly grabs the side of my kayak but I stab him with my paddle, "I mean it!"  "Jillianne," he tries to sound comforting, "I'm only doing this for your well-being.  Keeping you safe and prepared.  You need to know what to do!" he reaches my kayak.  Pulling me side by side with him, he smiles, "Okay, I'll make you a deal.." He looks around, "You can either.. let me flip you over right now," I squirm and try to paddle away, "or, we go out into the bay right now," I squirm even harder.  "Please, Trea.  This isn't fun."  "Flipping it is.  Here, give me your phone so it doesn't drown," he held out his hand.  I laugh and yell no.  "Fine," he smirks and jolts one side of my kayak up, but I stay put..  I laugh at him and he begs me some more to let him do it.  "How about you flip yourself.  So I can, you know, have an example.  So I know how easy it is to do."  He laughs but agrees and paddles a good distance away from me, thankfully.  He slips his phone into his dry pack, sets his paddle on the water, and takes a deep breath.  In one quick motion he is underwater and the kayak is bottom-up.  I clap my hands like a child as he quickly bobs up.  "Jillianne," he says seriously, "I can stand."  And sure enough, he plants his feet on the sandy floor raising his chest and up to be above water.  He walks forwards to catch his paddle and trudges back to get back in his boat.  He flips it on its side and puts his torso on the seat as he hurls it upright, bringing himself with it, legs flailing in the air.  He did it, actually, very gracefully.  What followed is what makes it great.  Trea's kayak is a standard one, a standard sit-in kayak.  When he had flipped it back over, it had taken a great deal of water.  As he gets seated, I watch as he looks down at his feet and mumbles, "God dammit."  He holds his head back and sighs.  I snicker, "What's wrong, hun?"  He takes off one of his shoes and tells me to shut up.  He begins shoveling the water out of his kayak with his shoe, his water shoe so it isn't as effective as we all had hoped.  But after a few moments, he seems ready to paddle back over to me to give me another ultimatum.

   When I got home that day, I told my parents how awful Trea had been and how he threatened me and tried to flip me over when I begged him not to.  They completely sided with him.  I think my mom even texted him giving him a direct order to flip me the next time we went out.  

It's Kayak Playlist III ya'll!

   Another list of music catered to specifically the enjoyment of kayaking.  Songs to get you through the first haul in the middle of a current, or to get you through that final stretch where you can't help but think to yourself, "Why do I do this?" but then stop because you remember the beauty that surrounds you, and, naturally, songs to enhance that beauty that surrounds you, songs that while you listen, you don't do anything but sit and listen.  But of course feel free to jam while you're "doing your work", vacuuming, driving, or perfecting your upcoming lip sync number in the mirror.  As always, they are in no particular order.  Enjoy!

Hey Jude - The Beatles
Matilda - alt-J
Fourth of July - Fall Out Boy
We Can't Stop - Miley Cyrus
Kansas City - The New Basement Tapes*
50 Ways To Leave Your Lover - Paul Simon
We Might Be Dead Tomorrow - SOKO
Alibi - Thirty Seconds to Mars
Believe - Mumford & Sons*
Holocene - Bon Iver*
Fitzpleasure - alt-J
One - Three Dog Night
Euphoria - Motopony*
Wagon Wheel - Old Crow Medicine Show
Where the Streets Have No Name - U2
Life Is A Highway - Rascal Flatts
Free Booze - Semi Precious Weapons
Festival - Sigur Rós
Out Of The Woods - Taylor Swift
Red Lights - Tiësto
Something Good - alt-J*
Hey, Soul Sister - Train
Mess Is Mine - Vance Joy
All Alright - Zac Brown Band
I Wanna Get Better - Bleachers
Old Time Rock And Roll - Bob Seger

* Highly recommended

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.

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.

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.

Thank you and Happy Holidays -           

Jillianne          

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.




 

Up There

   "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away"
                                                     Job 1:21


   It's day 3 of the perfect kayak week*.  Trea is the best partner to have while trying to accomplish something like this.  He's right down the road, he has a kayak, and he loves it as much as I do.  This week was tough though.  Our friend, Tricia, was in the hospital after being in a terrible car accident.  She was one of three passengers in the vehicle.  The other two, her brother and her boyfriend, had died earlier in the week.  She was in a coma and the doctors were doing their best to relieve the pressure from her brain.  That's another reason why Trea is the best to have around.  While others would say it's incredibly selfish to think only of myself while my friend of four years could possibly be dying,  Trea wouldn't.  Kayaking was the escape.  It took our mind off the terrible and focused it on to something beautiful.  While Tricia was still on our brains, we couldn't help but think that everything was going to be okay as we watched the sky flood with pinks, oranges, and purples, as the sun set over the water.
   We paddled out into the bay.  This was actually my first time going into the bay.  Before, I hung back as I watched Trea's bravery take him farther than mine would.  But this time was different.  Carpe Diem really seemed to have much more meaning this week.  So when he told me to follow him out into the bigger water, I didn't protest.  I stayed by his side.
   The air was warm but it had a cozy feeling about it.  I took a swig of my water and watched the sky.  Yellow's blending into pinks while the sun peered in from behind.  This was always my favorite part of the kayak trip. Wide open waters with a view consisting of only waves outlined with the distant trees.  Boats scattered about, some zipping circles around themselves, others sitting peacefully enjoying the same sky I am.  Every now and then the clouds would move in such a way creating a hazy overcast pink glow.  The setting sun peering through at odd angles so one could actually see the rays beaming down over the water.  Completely romantic, it seemed as if two total strangers found themselves with each other out on this water, that was it.  Instant love.  A scheme that only Cupid himself could be to blame.  Each ray of sun one of his arrows in disguise.  It was a scene that belonged only in a painting, but I got to see it for free.  It's in these moments, with the boats, the sun, the water, that made everything seem worth it.  As if it were an omen telling me that things really are okay.  How could they be bad when there is something as perfect as this moment?
   "See how fun it is to try new things, Jillianne?" Trea smiled.
 
 
   I'm snuggled up in my bed, fan blasting, cat sleeping on my feet, music playing, when my phone lets out its alerting whistle.
   I have a message from Trea.
   'Jillianne' it reads.
   I respond with the obvious 'Trea'
   He quickly answers 'She's gone.'
   'What are you talking about?'
   A moment goes by before my phone whistles again.
   'Tricia, she's dead.'


*The perfect kayak week is when one tries to kayak at least a certain distance every consecutive day for one week.  It seems easy before one actually starts.  After the third day, you really start to feel it.  And your poor legs have given up on the concept of "sunburn".

   This event happened in late May, and it's taken me a while to be able to write about it.  This was before I had the RunKeeper app so I don't have the stats from this trip.
   RIP Tricia, I love you and thank you for being my friend at school when no one else was and for always being able to crack me up.  Also, thank you for coming to my rescue in Econ when I didn't have a colored pen to grade Trea's paper with.  It sits on my shelf still.

Trea in The Wolf

The Wolf

The Wolf

   This kayak adventure is not a new one.  Instead, it's a throwback, a homage if you will, to dear Trea.  He was featured in the first story on #backontheyak.  Sadly, that was the last time I saw him.  He's out doing his thing at college.  On his way to becoming a very successful doctor, I'm sure.  I miss him, of course, but we had our time.  As short as it was, it was still pretty rad.  So here's a story of one of the many times he accompanied me while kayaking.

   I pull up to his driveway and sit for a minute.  I don't even have to get out of the car.  The garage door grumbles open and he emerges.  He doesn't wave at me or smile at me.  Instead he smirks, walks right up to my window, and presses his phone against it.  I stare at it blankly.
   He points to the time and mouths, "7:31."
   I roll my eyes and laugh, "Oh my gosh.  God forbid, I'm one minute late.  You'll be alright."
   He just shakes his head out of disappointment.
   "Just get your kayak and c'mon."
 
   Trea and I have mastered Mallini's.  No shocker there.  After 7+ times of going in and out of the bay in every which way possible with each other, we decided the two of us are ready to graduate to bigger and better things.  The Wolf River.

   I turn onto the dusty gravel road and park next to some fishermen.  There aren't any other kayakers or paddleboarders, just some teenagers tossing the fishing line in the water.  So really we have the place to our selves.  That's always nice.
   We help each other put the kayaks in the sandy water and strap on our life vests.  Trea asks which way we should go.  Without thinking I say right.  We pass under a bridge and paddle by a few logs that Trea first thinks are gators.  It's fourth of July weekend so every now and then we play chicken with boats and jet skiers before eventually merging to the right so they can zip by.
   Now, as great as it was to get out of Mallini's and get some new scenery, the scenery on the Wolf didn't have much variation.  It consisted of only bush, tree, bird, log, bush, tree, bird, log, bush, tree, bird, log, bush, tree, bird, log.  After a while, that gets old really quickly.  There's no way to tell how far you've gone or how fast you're going.  You look back and think, "Is that the bush I just passed? Or the one I looked at 30 minutes ago?"  There were no houses to admire or people to wave at.  Just bush, tree, bird, log.
   After a while, Trea speaks up, "Oh Jillianne! You'll appreciate this.  I started a journal."
   I laugh, "Why?"
   "I just write about my day."
   "Alright, groovy.  How long have you been doing this?"
   He grins, "I started yesterday."
   "Okay," I smile at him, "you've got to start somewhere."
   We come across a fork in the river.  Trea continues on to examine a log that looks like a pipe that looks like an alligator.  I turn around.  I don't bother telling him, he'll figure it out, he's smart.  And if that fails, I have my phone.
   The way back is nice. Me and myself, as they say.  I try to get a grasp on how fast I am going.  Sure I have my app telling me my pace but that doesn't help.  I look for something in the distance that I can use as a reference point.  Alas.  I look back every few minutes or so to see if Trea has caught up to me yet.  Again, alas.  Still just me and myself.
 
   Finally, as I'm crossing under the bridge again, something rams into me.
   Trea.
   "I thought for sure you'd be asleep in the car by the time I got back," he laughs, "Or worse, that you'd just straight up leave me here."
   I punch him in the shoulder, "I'd never do that to you."


Distance  3.55 miles
Time  1:18:39
Min/Mile  22:09
Calories  319
 

Bay Mouth