Sunday, July 22, 2007

kayaking [pt. 2]

Read Part One

We decided to wait until a break in the storm, as the idea of packing up soaking wet gear in the pouring rain didn't appeal to any one of us. Everything seemed secure, and we figured we would be fine until the rains stopped again. Not long after, the sun made it's first appearance of the day. It broke through a small hole in the clouds, and we made our move. The rock became a bustle of activity as tents came down, tarps were folded, kitchen supplies were gathered and kayaks were filled. We each grabbed our wet wetsuits, slid them uncomfortably over our skin, donned our spray skirts and lifejackets, and were ready to go. One by one, a kayak was placed in the water, someone jumped in while two others held it in place, and he was pushed out into the roller-coaster of waves.

Kurt and I were the second last to go in our kayak fit for two. He jumped in the front while John and I held it steady. As Kurt slid his spray skirt around his cockpit, protecting him from any water that would try to infiltrate it, I jumped in the back and attempted my spray skirt. The waves bashed our kayak from both sides, and I was forced to give up as we banged into the rocks. We were pushed off, just as a wave crashed into the side of our kayak, filling my cockpit with water. Paddling as hard as we could, we managed to get away from the rocks before any further damage was done. As soon as we were safe enough in the open water, we swung our boat around and I grabbed my camera. After snapping a few shots of John preparing his escape, I packed up the camera and we, too, headed for safer waters. It was the most adrenaline-pumping fun I have had in a long time. We paddled our way a few hundred feet to the backside of an island. There, protected from the wind and waves, we eventually found a new campsite. The storm seemed to have subsided as the rains stopped and we were able to set up camp and hang some of our clothes on a clothesline. The Coast Guard reported that the storm was only going to get worse as the day progressed, but our area seemed further unphased by the weather.

We ended up on a campsite that had been frequently used over the years. It boasted such amenities as clotheslines, a picnic table, some counter space next to our a well-planned fire pit and a plaque naming our new location. A paddle had been nailed to one of the trees long ago, and either through abuse by human hands or by Lake Superior weather, it had broken in two. The plaque appropriatetly called this place 'Broken Paddle Campsite. It was a little disappointing to be on such a civilized campsite in the middle of Lake Superior, but it was a much-needed reprieve from the worry of the potential disaster we had just averted. We slept in the rain that night.

Sun. The morning met us with the warmth of the sun, and we capitalized on it in order to dry the rest of our damp clothes and equipment. We took our time getting ready that morning for two reasons: we needed to soak up as much sun as we could before jumping into our kayaks, and we had our best breakfast yet. Time has no relevance when pancake batter is mixed and heated over a morning fire. Satisfied with our sweet escape from bland oatmeal, we gathered our gear and prepared for another day of paddling. We left with the sun ahead of us, but were well aware of the clouds that loomed all around, their bottoms darkened by the shadows of their towering peaks. It rained off and on as we kayaked, and the waves once again began to grow. The winds pushed us along, however, and the kayaking was easy. We pulled up to shore for our lunch, where we huddled together in the cove of a cliff while we ate our regular lunch of soup and noodles. The winds persisted.

As the clouds continued to block and reveal the distant sun, we repacked our lunch gear and hit the water. We paddled East with the wind and the ever-growing swells, eager to arrive at the final campsite of our trip. Soon, the land that bordered our route to the North came to an end and we struck for open water, Battle Island in the distance. We had no intention of approaching our lunch site of 3 days before, as it would take us off course, so we continued with the island to our East. As the swells grew, we would at times disappear from each other's view as we became separated by the peak of a wave. We estimated the height of the waves at 2 metres. The further we got from shore and the closer we got to our destination, the larger the swells grew. As the peak of a wave passed beneath the centre of our kayak, it would throw us slightly off course as our rudder would leave the water, hovering above it until our back end was gently lowered back in as we entered the waves' trough.

Soon we could see the opening between two islands that we were aiming for. The waves continued to grow, and soon were at an estimated 3 metres. We would lose each other for several seconds as our kayaks entered separate troughs simultaneously, a mountain of water between us. Apprehension was in the air as our paddles continued their monotonous strokes through the waters. Waves broke ahead of us, and we knew it would be difficult to steer our kayaks through the narrow passageway that lead to the relative safety of a bay. As we approached the opening, it became clear why the waves were breaking so far out in the lake. Rocks. We had to pass between a set of rocks straight ahead and a set of rocks to our right in order to get to the passageway. As we altered our course, the waves broadsided us and water would spill into our kayak. I was with Cody that afternoon, and we knew that all we could do was paddle. And paddle we did. As we passed between the rocks, the set of rocks to our right broke the waves up so that they became much more small and manageable. We were the first ones through, and had not looked back as we steered through the obstacles. Finally, we swung our boat around and I again grabbed my camera to capture the efforts of our fellow paddlers as they navigated the rocks. We all cleared the obstacle safely, though we each had a story to tell of nearly capsizing. Another adventurous day was behind us, and we paddled the calm waters of the bay where we set up our final campsite.

Our final camp was set up in the rain, which came as no surprise. We had taken down camp in the rain, kayaked in the rain, breakfasted, lunched and suppered in the rain, and so it was only fair that we now had to set up camp in the rain. We had our final supper under a tarp, and stood around the fire to warm us in the cool evening. Not long after, each of our three tents were occupied by a leader while the kids stayed with the fire singing Johnny Cash, and a host of other songs we requested. The night was cool as we slept, the sound of a light rain pattering against our tent flies. The final morning of our trip began with Cream of Wheat, and the excitement of knowing we would soon be back in the Suburban on our way to Transformers in Thunder Bay. We had a couple of hours of paddling ahead of us, and we were eager to begin the day on the water. Our site was packed up, our water bottles filled and our breakfast was eaten. We were soon on our way.

Coming out of the straight, we were immediately hit by wind and waves, while rain gently fell on our kayaks. We paddled. The waves battered us broadside as the crosswind had built them up from the open lake to the West. We paddled. We passed by the points of several islands, knowing that each was another island closer to our destination. Rounding the final island, we could see the buildings of Rossport in the distance. We paddled. Each stroke brought us closer to the sandy beach where our trip would end. As our kayak scratched the soft sand of the beach, we jumped out as the excitement of using a real toilet became a reality. Soon we had all of our kayaks emptied, and all our gear lying in wait to be loaded into the truck. I stood staring down the road when an amazing thing happened. A blanket of rain made its way up the street towards us, soaking everything along its path. It poured. The final rainfall soaked everything we had left in wait, leaving not one item dry in its wake. It was the final kick in the pants on this trip, and it came as no surprise. Our week had been plagued by wind, rain and waves, it was only fitting to finish with a good drenching. We threw all our wet gear into the truck and jumped in, leaving the weather, the waves and the excitement of Lake Superior behind us.

More Photos (lots more)

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hey matt, hope you're all doing well. Your blogs are really entertaining to read. I enjoy your use of such vivid descriptions and a witty sense of humor.

This trip definitely sounded like a lot of fun. Keep up the good work!

Talk to you later.