Last year Milwaukee’s phantom kayaker henceforth to be known as “DS” ran up to Superior kayaks for a few days and built a kayak. You may remember I posted a gallery of the progress. Well, then the poor guy had to wait all winter before he could finally paint it. So with apologies for the delay, here is a picture of the boat that love built!

For more on Superior Kayaks Building Workshops go here.

Nir Abbas
(photo by Adam – Terra Santa Kayak Expeditons)

You wonder where you pick things up sometimes. I can pick up a southern drawl in about 3 days of constant exposure. I pick up on moods really quickly. If someone around me is in a pissy mood, depressed or whatever, my day is shot right there. It’s not their fault, I just can stop “feeling it”. I end up spending the whole day being paranoid. I pick up colds and other various illnesses it seems by just going to a public place. Never happens at kayak events though. . weird. This time around Mary, Gryphon and I all woke up Sunday morning very, very sick. High fevers and the whole bit. As Gryphon slept and I moved from the bedroom to the living room floor, Mary sat spaced out on the couch and tried to guess all the places we may have picked up what ever it was we picked up. “Maybe it was when we went to that store yesterday”, she mused. “Mary”, I said, “It normally takes a few days for . . “, I was too muddled to finish my point, but she had picked up on it already. “Maybe when we went to buy you’re H2 glue?” She said. “Sure” I thought, “It can be Rutabaga’s fault!”

The trouble with being sick, is you feel worse just trying to pass the day on the couch. If everyone is sick, you end up laying around the living room like wolves in a heat wave. Tongues hanging out and everything. So the only way I’ve found to feel any better is to get outside. Anywhere under the sun. As long as you’re moving you don’t feel so bad. Until you stop of course, then it’s worse. After another 2 hours of slow-motion loading we packed up a little picnic, kids toys, chairs, blankets and the Acuta for a day on a secluded beach. Loading the boat was a slow and exhausting maneuver, but I had a goal of testing my padding work which was now all dragon skinned and glued into place.

While Gryphon reclined under blankets on a big beach chair and Mary fiddled with fire & tinfoil, I slid out into the lake and paddled for about a half hour before I could feel my equilibrium starting to fail. Soon we were all sitting in a short row watching an occasional gust of wind send cats paws across the water. Almost un-noticed, time passed. By mid-afternoon the sun began to slide below the trees on the southern bluff and we knew we should probably be heading home. The problem was, no one felt good enough to stand up. . .

Harmlessly passing your time in the grassland away
Only dimly aware of a certain unease in the air – waters

It was many years ago. I remember a comic that had been haphazardly cut out of a newspaper and stuck to a refrigerator. It was held in place by a bit of brown magnet strip that I imagine had separated from some 1970′s needlecraft. The paper had yellowed from a few years of sun and wood smoke, and on it a lone cow with a goofy grin had faded from black to a golden gray. The caption underneath read, “It’s not me, it’s the rest of the herd that’s crazy!”

I got up this morning and browsed through CNN, The Guardian & The BBC. Normally I wait until I’m awake. I hate letting the news define my day. But I did’nt & I did. I got lost following a link to Bono’s new “RED” promotion that will attempt use things like American Express cards & tennis shoes to address HIV/Aids in Africa. I wandered off to Gary Braasch’s Global Warming website. I browsed and read as I’d done many times before. I mused about change, about how Gryphon will never imagine a hike in the woods without a carpet of Garlic Mustard spread out under the trees where once were snow drops, may apples, violets & ferns. I clicked. I saw someone thought they found Noah’s Ark again. He was 96% sure. I wasn’t, and Turkey was not going to let him prove it. I read about another family having yard sales to pay for health care. A photo of a dawn helicopter noted another crash in Afghanistan. Entertainment? I got drawn in. I clicked. I wondered things like, is Nichole Richie too thin?, or did John Prescott at least have a good time? If there’s lovin’ goin on in government, any government, the press always points out how politicians were doin it on tax payer owned furniture. Did we even know we owned that ottoman? Do I care what they do on it? Sometimes I think they should be doing more of it. I’ll even donate the furniture. I clicked. I saw ice. I thought about the last polar bear, artic expeditions, a stripped out broken generator at the end of the earth. I thought about salmon runs and crab boats. I imagined an old man telling stories of when we used to eat fish. Then I thought about that ottoman again. I felt jumbled, confused, depleted. I’d just woke up. I should have known better. Somewhere in the depth of my morning’s bleak haze was a satirical smirk trying to get out. I felt angry and giddy. I had to get up and walk away.

I went into the bathroom to shuffle my appearance. In the mirror an old guy looked back at me from where I should have been. He ran a comb through his graying hair. I didn’t stay, it was all too depressing. I knew him too well and did’nt want to watch. The reason you see so many scruffy old men is because they don’t want to look at that guy in the mirror. The only acceptible reflection of course is the one within the minds eye.

I got my camera and jacket. I needed to go outside. A bloody egg dawn was rising as I tripped on a stairstep and stumbled into the wet morning. A white floss blanket lay atop the little Baraboo river at the foot of our weathered hills. The cattle across the highway were just now starting to get up and roam about. Mothers were feeding calves. A bull stood in motionless silhouette. My eyes paced the fields while in my mind I thought about nothing and everything; meat, wet feet, cancer, cows, erosion, diversity, celebrity, grapevines, poverty, prisons & war. On and on. Everywhere and nowhere. It bothers me. And I’ll admit it, I don’t really believe man will willingly make it all better. I don’t think we can. We’re trying to treat another symptom of abject poverty with credit cards for God’s sake! American Express no less!! Like the west could’nt just anti-up if they chose to. In our world it always comes down to a “percent of sales”. So frustrating. I wanted to pick up a rock and throw it at something. Anything. But, there were no “throwing” rocks in our finely crushed quartzite driveway. Nothing remotely heavy. Nothing tangable anyway.

I looked out at the cows one last time and as I turned back to the house, I remembered a comic that had been stuck to a refrigerator. It was held in place by a bit of brown magnet strip that I imagine had separated from some 1970′s needlecraft. The paper had yellowed from a few years of sun and wood smoke, and on it a lone cow with a goofy grin had faded from black to a golden gray. As I took a step toward the house I thought, It can’t be me. It can’t!

I needed to run down to the shop yesterday to pick up some H2 Glue so I can start permanently putting all the foam bits into my Acuta. On the other hand, it’s hard to justify a 45 mile drive just for a bit of glue. So I went back over my spring check list and found that I had to replace a flashlight and a mirror as well. Ok, NOW, I can justify it!! So with an excuse firmly in place off I went. Mirrors last me about a season. They are always getting crushed when I decided to start playing on my boat. Sooner or later they’re more like a glass sculpture of a spider web than a mirror. The flashlight’s whole top housing just twisted right off like the top of a prescription bottle when I went to look at the battery!! Interesting that the light worked fine, until the top came off! (There’s some metaphor about relationships in there, but it’s way to early to look for it) This time around I picked up the same little ACR mirror I get every year, and a Pelican LED Flashlight. I wish I could say I’m excited. But lights and mirrors are a little like socks. You know you need them, but you hate having to pay for ‘em.

Each morning I sit down to work on my daily post. Some days I just stare at this blank screen much like I used to do with paper and charcoal many dusty eons ago. Other days, I could just blab on until my fingers seize up and my CPU starts smoking!! It certainly is an interesting thing that we all have the ability to just sit down and start rambling to anyone around the globe who’s willing to listen. Hardly need a bartender any more! And even more amazing and humbling is that some people actually do listen. Paddle Blogs have been really growing recently, don’t you think? It reminds me of going from that old antenna perched up on the roof to a satellite dish! It really is great to have so many new voices out there. Personally there are about 10 blogs that I check each & every day. And it’s getting harder to have time to discover all the new ones. Sure sometimes the stories are the same, but some people watch FOX and others watch PBS . . . It’s amazing how stories take on new life when told by new voices.

It’s also interesting to me to see more and more paddling “news” growing old in the internet world before it ever comes to print. I remember recently reading an annoucement of an expedition that we all knew to be cancelled long before the article appeared. News just seems to move too fast on the web these days. A new story travels like a bush fire and then just as quickly exhausts itself when it runs out of fuel. Print will survive I think, but it has to be all about context, story & detail. At least that’s my take.

Meanwhile back on the net, I think we’re seeing some really talented writers and interesting people in our little soggy, bloggy world. Recently I really enjoyed Keith Wikle’s “Blood of the Father” posts which have nothing to do with kayaking but everything to do with living. (Which has a lot to do with kayaking) I love going over to FH20′s place for my daily dose of puppies & clouds. And of course I have to visit froggy Bonnie, Wenley and his never ending quest(s), Hans, Michael, Andrew, Matt, Richard, Peggy with her Florida wildlife & of course Mr. Sealevel each day as well. Then there are another 4 or 5 journals that I like to sneak a peak in on as well every few days. Oh, and then there’s Dick who should be writing a blog but just sends out email’s instead! By the time I work through the soggynet world it’s almost noon, time for lunch and I’m ready to call it a day and go for a paddle!! Now how am I supposed to get any work done?