Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Dog River - May 9, 2009

This was written May 9, 2009:

I woke up this morning to the blare of the alarm and then realized that it was Saturday and I

A mid 1970's analog alarm clock radio using ro...Image via Wikipedia

didn't have to get up and go to work. Now there is no doubt about it, I am NOT a morning person. After working night shift for over twenty years, my body definitely prefers those hours. I get up early every morning for work, but my body doesn't do that easily. So the realization that it was Saturday was very welcome. Then in another sleepy instant it dawned on me that it was SATURDAY -- kayak day and that was the reason the alarm was screaming so early. Much easier than I manage to do so Monday through Friday, in a flash I was up, my suit and water shoes on, my hair pulled back and ready to load the boats.

This week I was much faster in loading the boats. I remembered I had to take the head rests off the back seats this time, and even had them off as I was lowering the seats. I remembered which bungee cords went where and I managed not to knock out a window pane out of the room where we store the kayaks this time.

We were at the River and in the water at 6:15 am. Even though it was a little later than the last week, we still beat the sunrise. We paddled out a way on the river and then turned back to watch the sun come up over the trees and clouds.

I had forgotten to charge my camera the night before, so I only managed to get a couple shots before sunrise. Glen and I sat on the river, holding hands as the sun came up over the clouds and painted the river with diamonds of light.

Today we paddled back to the creek we had visited last week. It took some paddling to get there and it was a bit of work, too. We were paddling into the wind and across the waves caused by boaters. At some points I felt like I was paddling in mud.

We finally made it to the furthest point in the creek we had visited and kept going on. A bend in the creek opened to a large area lined with a few homes. It was quiet, peaceful and beautiful. The birds chirped and we could see some perched on the tall water grasses or hidden in the marsh along the river. Some flew past us over our heads. The water had very little movement and was noticeably warmer than on the river.

We followed the curves and turns of the little creek, expecting it to play itself out at each turn and being surprised with more creek and more places to go. Finally, more because of time than anything else, we picked a spot in the distance, said we would go to that spot and then turn back.

Once we returned to the river, the water was much cooler, which was good. The sun was just beginning to come out from behind the clouds, it was getting warm and we had quite a way to go until we were finished. Going in, while not easy now that we were tired, was easier with the wind at our backs.

As we reached the put in, I felt sorry to have the morning's float over, though I didn't think I could have gone much further. This was our longest trip I can remember, both distance and time.

We shared the water with a lot of fishing boats and every now and then a power boat would whisk through leaving us to sway along in it's hopping wakes. I didn't feel the same uneasiness with the power boats as I had before, we seemed to all share the river well. But then, there is a lot of river to share.

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