Wow, time to head back south already. From the front end it seems like you’re waiting forever to finally drop your kayak on the beach, then suddenly you’re packing up to leave. I think that’s why I don’t spend to much time anticipating the future. The future is usually gone before you realized it came. I thought about that as I walked past all the old crumbling boats lined up along Manypenny Avenue. Someone spent a lot of time planing and building these once living craft. Yet, now their ribs lie open on a dead end street.

We launched out from Little Sand Bay under a gray shroud and began the almost 2 mile crossing over to Sand Island. Superior has been kind to us in that she never sent much beyond a two foot swell our direction. But the morning she did seem moody and I could’nt help but note her power. Soon we were paddling east along the island and exploring more of the famous Apostle Islands caves. Each little arch and tunnel challenged us to pass. Simon would go first. I assumed that if he lived, I could give it a go next. Usually you could pass through even the lowest arch with little problem. On occasion a larger wave would rush in just to keep you alert. Your kayak would lift toward the ceiling for just a moment before the wave would blast back out of a nook with the sound of cannon fire.

After some time mucking about in the caves we saw the Sand Island light house sneaking out beyond the trees to our north. Between us and the light, a line of larger waves rose from the otherwise calm lake following a shallow ridge into the shore. Simon did his best to surf the lake waves when he could catch one. On a side note, when you take a picture of someone surfing backwards. . ., you often can’t tell they’re moving.

The sun was kind enough to come out as we landed on a secluded horseshoe beach. It was time for a short siesta in the sun. You don’t dare rest too long for fear of having your energy zapped from you. Within an hour we again launched out in to the lake that was now just starting to show some white caps as the wind picked up. We continued west through some powerful slop. The wind at our backs made our rate speed of 7.5 km feel leisurely.

Around the west end of the island we were protected from the wind and the sun again cut through the clouds. For a time the world was calm, bright and beautiful. We paddled across a shallow bay watching the shadows of our kayaks glide across the rippled sand below. Beautiful! But it was not to last. After sliding past a lonely wood and stone break wall we left the protection of the island and were again slogging through wind and chop. Now to our backs a storm seemed to be closing in just as we made the final turn to begin the main crossing home. Along the way the lake kept trying to push us of course. The kayaks worked to hold a line across small but irritating waves. In the end we slipped onto the sandy beach just as the distant hills were disappearing behind the on-coming rain. We loaded the Jeep and headed back into Bayfield for a late supper at a local pink flamingo infested restaurant. Just as we opened the door to go in the wind picked up and it began to pour. .

Oh, by the way, do you know what you do when you’re inside, beat, and it pouring outside? Build a quick website of course!! http://www.kayakingforcancer.co.uk/

So off we go back Baraboo for a day, then Friday morning we’ve got to meet the Lake Express Ferry in Milwaukee at like 5am. Yippie!!