Re: [Paddlewise] HowDo - Was sk Reviews

Larry Bliven wrote:

> From: "Melissa Reese"  & Michael R Noyes:
>
> snipped to change subject ---
>
> > >Mike, who paddles with the ruddered heathen all the time. :-)
> > >
> >
> > Well, okay, I admit it... I've transgressed and often find myself
> > paddling with those very same followers of the Dark Side.  One must
> > be tolerant.
> >
> > Melissa
> >
> =================
> ok now that it's out in the open, i also have paddled with folks in boats
> with rudders.
>
> recently i was paddling with one,  but our styles were *grossly* different.
>
> we were on the Chesapeake Bay; relatively short crossings with moderate
> winds creating short chop from ~45 degrees right of our heading.
>
> the other guy chooses the route that pleases him: straight as possible from
> point to point.
>
> rudderless paddler chooses the route that pleases him: (a) almost directly
> into waves then (b) surf them.
>
> our crossing times were essentially equal (although i think i slowed a few
> times so as not to cut his boat in half).
>
> he was efficient.
> i was having a ball playing with the waves.
> ..........
>
> now then i wonder,
> is the paddling style of folks with rudders normally different than
> rudderless folks
> or
> am i missing something in my approach to getting from a to b. (fun vs
> getting there)?
>
> bye bye bliven
> trying to be Tolerant and to avoid the Dark Side.
>

    This reminds me of a motorcycle review I once read.  In trying to describe
sport touring they said; "If your idea of the shortest distance between to
points is the road with the most curves you are a sport tourer."  You were both
taking the shortest route between two points, it is just that his two points
were on the map, yours were in the soul.
    The shortest distance is the one that involves the best companions and the
most bays to explore.  New companions welcome.  (Even those from the Dark Side!)

Mike
--
    Paddling along through fog so thick that only one's thoughts are
visible, your reverie is abruptly shattered by the ancient cry of a great
blue heron as she lifts uncertainly from the brilliant blue of a
mussel-shell beach witnessed only by the brooding, wet spruce....your
passage home seems as much back through time as it does through space.
Mark H Hunt


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