kayaking [pt. 1]

Last week was spent on the waters of Lake Superior. It was a week of rain, hot sun, cold water, and windy days. It was a trip of almosts. We almost lost our kayaks, almost lost a tent, were forced out of a campsite by mother nature, and almost capsized in 3 meter waves. And it was the most fun I have had in a long time.

Our trip began two Saturdays ago, kind of unexpectedly as Jordan and I were not planning on going until the number of kids increased, necessitating our help. So seven of us, John, Jordan, Dillen, Cody, Keith, Kurt and I jumped into the Suburban in the early afternoon and made our way to our launching spot at Rossport, on the shores of Lake Superior. We were met by rain right away. It would become a constant for us, as 5 of the 6 days we were on the water left us wet either in our kayaks or at the campsites. We took it easy our first day, making our way to a sandy bay where we set up camp. It was a relaxing night for those of us who did not have to train in a wet exit (how to get back in your kayak when you capsize). And the sand made for a comfortable night's sleep. The rains poured on us that night, but we awoke late in the morning to a bright sun and wispy clouds overhead. Our morning was spent puttering around the campsite, eating our oatmeal while we walked along the rocks that extended along the sides of the bay to the open water of Lake Superior. At the edge of the bay, we built a monument of rock called an Inukshuk (though the terms Shuknook, Shukshoonk, Nookshuk and Shusk-a-shook-shuk were all used to describe our creation, as none of us were really sure how to pronounce it). We departed our campsite a couple hours after noon and began our days travel.

We lunched on Battle Island. Situated on the opposite end of the island is a large lighthouse, manned over the summer by two senior volunteers. We went for a hike to see it, and spent a few hours on its surrounding large rocks, watching the kids play football and eventually watching the football float away into the vastness of the lake. Continuing on our way, we picked up the football as it floated along our path, something we would grow accustomed to doing during the week. A few hours later, we arrived at our next campsite, a rocky outcropping on the edge of a bay. It was a beautiful afternoon, and not a drop fell from the sky. We got there early enough to give us time for a swim across the bay. Though we camped close to the water, we weren't too concerned about rogue waves sweeping us off our rock. The water was calm and the sunset left us feeling as though we were in a bit of a paradise. We all went to bed early after a long day of paddling.

The next day was the most beautiful day of our trip. The sun shone over us as we cruised the cold waters of the lake. Unfortunately, our attire was meant to suit the water, not the air, and so our wetsuits kept us sweating as we paddled. It was a long day of paddling as we planned on camping on one island, only to find it inhabitable. We continued on our way, hoping to find a site that allowed the evening sun to keep us warm as we set up our camp for the night. An hour later, we found our perfect camping spot -- another rocky outcropping that looked out on the seemingly endless waters of Lake Superior. It was about the most exposed campsite we could have found, but on such a beautiful day and after a great sleep the night before on a similar outcropping, the thought of what could happen never crossed our mind. We spent the afternoon relaxing on the rock, leaving our mark with sidewalk chalk and building a bonfire on the edge of a perfect cliff diving spot. We enjoyed a round of soup, topped off with cherry-covered bannock. It had been a perfect day. We left the flies off our tent as it was turning out to be a perfectly clear night as well. And we slept soundly under the stars on our perfect little campsite.

The next morning, I woke up around 9:30 and looked up. Clouds. They weren't the kind of clouds that cause one to sit and stare at, trying to imagine what shapes they create. They were the kind of clouds that cause one to get out of the tent as soon as possible in order to put the fly on, in expectation of the raindrops that were sure to fall from them. John had been up for a while already, securing our tents and stowing all of the equipment we had left scattered around the night before. Soon we were all up, working frantically to prepare our campsite for the weather. We set up a tarp over our fire, gathered large rocks to tie our tents down to, and attached our flies. We planned on waiting the storm out. The storm, however, had other plans.

Soon enough, the rains came. Our regular morning meal of oatmeal was had under the tarp with much difficulty. While some of us ate, others would stand on opposite sides of the tarp to hold it steady as the winds picked up and threatened to rip it apart. We ate quickly, made a pot of coffee quickly, and then lowered the tarp to the ground, covering our kitchen supplies. While some of the group returned to a tent to stay warm and dry, John, Keith and I remained out to finish off our securing. As Keith and I stood beside our tent, a gust of wind grabbed it and started pushing it towards the water. We chased it down and secured it with even more rocks. The kayaks were covered with a tarp and tied together with the reasoning that if the waves came too high, they would have more difficulty carrying away all five kayaks at the same time. We found as many rocks and ropes as we could to secure our tents and, satisfied, we all retired to our tents to wait out the storm.

The thing about constant wind over a large body of water is that it tends to cause waves to increase in size. We hunkered down in our tents, listening to the sound of the waves breaking all around us, and even coming close enough to touch the corner of one of the tents. During a break in the storm, Cody ran out to go to the bathroom, and on his return he came by our tent, telling us he was going to grab a deck of cards and come back so we could play a game. We never had the chance. A few minutes later, we heard Cody yell, "Our kayaks!" Under normal circumstances, one could assume that Cody was just joking around, as he often does. But these were not normal circumstances. And his scream coincided with the sound of what could only be our kayaks banging into each other as they were being swept into the lake. Sure enough, as I jumped out of our tent, I looked over to where we had docked our kayaks. The spot was empty, except for the waves that had commandeered the kayaks position. Cody had managed to grab onto the end of one of our kayaks and was holding on for dear life, effectively saving them all as they were tied together. Jumping into action, I ran out and grabbed the other side just as Jordan arrived in his polka-dot boxers. Then, joined by John, and with the rain beating down on us, driven into our skin by the forceful winds, we managed to pull the kayaks ashore and onto higher ground. A quick decision was made, and we all agreed to it. We had to get off this rock. Fast. ... read Part Two