A First Time: Kayaking
I've done a lot of new things and had new experiences here in the United States, one of the those really memorable occasions was the day we got drive through coffee and then used drive through banking. I was chuckling with absurdity of such a notion back then, now I realize it has become such a part of a modern Americans pace of life. Lifestyle is about getting on it, getting to it and staying on it. Whatever that IT is, it generally does not involve walking, unless you are part of a walking group and you are getting your coffee on the way to your designated meet up point for group socialization and exercise.
Forgive me if this sounds snooty, it's not intended to at all, I think all these things are wonderful, they are just so different to how I got coffee, banked and walked...I used to walk everywhere, to the bank and the coffee shop.
That's not life here, this is a large land, spread out driving is such a vital part of the American life, I'm so tempted to buy a horse and ride it around. However, I know nothing of horses, their keep, the legalities of horse riding through a drive through. Wouldn't it be nice to ride a horse, or take a cart and buggy around. It would slow us down some.
At times I find myself in a fabric store with a few Mennonite women and wonder if I have more in common with them at heart than I do with my other peers, who have technology, photographing every moment of their lives to share with the world. I've done this too, I enjoy it sometimes, it's just that everything seems to be whirring faster and faster about me. Or is it that I've just decided to stop, I've slowed a little, I've slowed a lot, my pace and my sound are both slowly and quietly. Is this growing old? I sort of like it.
This week I went kayaking for the first time in my life. I rode tandem on a local lake and enjoyed every moment, both the exercise and the sounds, the silence of the overlooking trees, eating berries as we clambered ashore at various points. I enjoyed being carried by the gentle lapping waters when I was too tired to paddle. I enjoyed looking deep down into the clear water and feeling like I was in an uncontaminated land. A private oasis, only locals knew about. Hoards of hurried city dwellers, families on holidays and angry youths were not here, they wouldn't want to be here. It was not a swim able lake, nor was it surrounded by rocks or waterfalls. For this region, it was a very normal quiet lake with a spattering of elderly people. There are no sandy beaches or tourist attractions to consider this worthy of attention.
It's safe to say it felt like my lake, and the kayak was my own confident escape into the wilderness before me. It was so much easier than driving...mentally so. It was heavy and strenuous no doubt, but it was also relaxing and calming and energizing.
Reality check, I know it's not my lake, nor is it my kayak. It was fun though and I now have a new appreciation for the lake seeing it from the inside out. I hope to go again soon, whilst this summer weather permits and before the roads fill with snow cutting off access to the lake during the winter months.
Forgive me if this sounds snooty, it's not intended to at all, I think all these things are wonderful, they are just so different to how I got coffee, banked and walked...I used to walk everywhere, to the bank and the coffee shop.
That's not life here, this is a large land, spread out driving is such a vital part of the American life, I'm so tempted to buy a horse and ride it around. However, I know nothing of horses, their keep, the legalities of horse riding through a drive through. Wouldn't it be nice to ride a horse, or take a cart and buggy around. It would slow us down some.
At times I find myself in a fabric store with a few Mennonite women and wonder if I have more in common with them at heart than I do with my other peers, who have technology, photographing every moment of their lives to share with the world. I've done this too, I enjoy it sometimes, it's just that everything seems to be whirring faster and faster about me. Or is it that I've just decided to stop, I've slowed a little, I've slowed a lot, my pace and my sound are both slowly and quietly. Is this growing old? I sort of like it.
This week I went kayaking for the first time in my life. I rode tandem on a local lake and enjoyed every moment, both the exercise and the sounds, the silence of the overlooking trees, eating berries as we clambered ashore at various points. I enjoyed being carried by the gentle lapping waters when I was too tired to paddle. I enjoyed looking deep down into the clear water and feeling like I was in an uncontaminated land. A private oasis, only locals knew about. Hoards of hurried city dwellers, families on holidays and angry youths were not here, they wouldn't want to be here. It was not a swim able lake, nor was it surrounded by rocks or waterfalls. For this region, it was a very normal quiet lake with a spattering of elderly people. There are no sandy beaches or tourist attractions to consider this worthy of attention.
It's safe to say it felt like my lake, and the kayak was my own confident escape into the wilderness before me. It was so much easier than driving...mentally so. It was heavy and strenuous no doubt, but it was also relaxing and calming and energizing.
Reality check, I know it's not my lake, nor is it my kayak. It was fun though and I now have a new appreciation for the lake seeing it from the inside out. I hope to go again soon, whilst this summer weather permits and before the roads fill with snow cutting off access to the lake during the winter months.
Have you heard of "Frontier House"? When I have time I'm going to watch an episode and see what it's like. I like your kayaking story. I used to love canoeing down rivers but haven't done it for years.
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