Re: [Paddlewise] Christmas Eve

That was a really beautiful, if poignant, "trip report."  Most of us
share your feelings, but only a very few could have stated them so
eloquently.

Happy New Year.

Joan

On Fri, 24 Dec 1999 10:09:23 Wes Boyd <boydwe_at_dmci.net> writes:
> For the last several days, I have been watching the ice build up 
> around the
> shores of a nearby lake, and watching a flock of hundreds of geese 
> huddle
> in the shrinking puddle of open water. This morning it was cold, 
> after
> being clear much of last night and I wondered how they were doing, 
> so I
> decided to use the excuse of a run to the convenience store for a 
> cup of
> coffee to see how they were doing. I headed up the road in my van to 
> the
> sparkle of the overnight's light snow twinkling in the light of a 
> cold
> winter sun. 
> 
> As far as I could see, the lake was frozen over, but far out on the 
> lake
> there was a flock of what appeared to be hundreds of geese huddled
> together, steam rolling off their body warmth. You'd think they'd 
> fly off
> to a warmer climate, and they're going to have to pretty soon, but 
> they're
> apparently hanging on in hopes of a thaw that will have to be a lot 
> bigger
> than the weatherman says is coming. 
> 
> I don't paddle the lake the geese were on very often, since there's 
> no good
> public access and it's surrounded with cottages, each with a couple 
> of
> jetskis at the dock in the warmer months. Coffee in hand, I decided 
> to head
> down to Lake Hudson, my regular kayaking grounds to see what was 
> happening
> there, if anything. 
> 
> Down at Lake Hudson, I pulled into the familiar driveway, to see the 
> think
> skin of the snow from the night before covering the road; in my rear 
> view
> mirror, I could see the wind wash from my van piling it in a 
> complicated
> skien of chaotic windthrows. My eye picks out a particular shiny 
> spot, and
> I wonder at how it can continue to throw the light at me as I change 
> angles
> in approaching it. How magical sunlight and snowflakes can be!
> 
> It was obvious that I was the first person to head into the lake 
> today,
> even though by now it was midmorning of another short winter's day. 
> The
> colors of the day were white and brown, with the blue of the sky 
> overhead.
> Off to sunward, I saw the shape of a large bird gliding between 
> naked,
> barren branches. It looked sort of like a hawk, but since I only saw 
> a
> silhouette, my bird identification was challenged. Whatever it was, 
> it was
> another bird that I would have thought would be off in a warmer 
> climate,
> soaking in the rays of a tropical sun, soaring over some beach 
> crowded with
> sunbathers, but it too must have had some reason to hang around and 
> put up
> with the cold of a Michigan winter, at least for a bit longer.
> 
> It was bleak down at the boat launch, the scene of many loadings and
> unloadings over the years. There would be none today, for the lake 
> was
> covered with ice. There was the gray where stress fractures 
> resulting from
> the expansion of the ice when it froze shoved a little water out 
> onto the
> surface, enough to wet down the dusting of snow, but as a last gasp 
> of hope
> of open water, it wasn't much to think about. The ice was new enough 
> that
> there was no way I was going to walk out on it, although in the back 
> of my
> head I thought that I might like to take a hike out there later in 
> the
> winter, when the ice is thicker. Such a hike might reveal a few 
> secrets
> that are hard to discern from the seat of a kayak, but today 
> wouldn't be
> the day, either.
> 
> I could at least take a walk around the boat launch. I left the van
> running; the heater isn't very good, and it could use all the help 
> it would
> get. A light breeze bit at my ears, and I pulled down the stocking 
> cap that
> I'd only started wearing this week. A mile off in the distance, I 
> could see
> the secret little spot that I call "The Narrows", where a channel 
> leads to
> the western part of the lake. Today, the western section was hidden, 
> and
> this time, it would remain so, since there'd be no trip down there, 
> along

> the ridge where the turkey vultures soar in the summers, no blue 
> herons to
> inspire by the grace of their flight, no geese -- not even a 
> huddling flock
> of diehards like I'd seen on the other lake earlier. There'd be no 
> soft
> putter of motors as fishermen trolled for the lake's lunker muskies, 
> and no
> dip of paddle in the water. Under it's hard, white blanket, the lake 
> was
> asleep for the winter.
> 
> The days and weeks until the lake wakes up seem endless, a near 
> eternity
> looming ahead. Over the last decade or so, we've had open water by 
> the end
> of February about half the time, but I've seen the ice remain until 
> April,
> too, so there's no safe way to make a prediction of how long I'll 
> have to
> wait, frustrated by nature's cycle. I make a mental note to take the
> paddling gear out of the back of the van, where it's ridden 
> regularly since
> March. I have to have faith in the cycles of nature, in the 
> wanderings of
> the sun, that sooner or later the days will warm up, that the first 
> sprigs
> of green will appear, and that the geese will come back.
> 
> "Two months", I think. "Two months, and at least we'll be looking 
> out of
> it." I'm lying to myself, of course; it'll be more like three, or 
> even
> more, before I'll be able to get out with the kayak with any 
> regularity.
> 
> I'm not really dressed for being out in the breeze, so I turn back 
> to the
> van, where the heater is struggling to pull ahead of the winter's 
> cold. All
> the holiday activities lie ahead, the dinners, the gifts, the family 
> time.
> It's a bright spot in a bleak period, when spring seems so far away.
> 
> 
>
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