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From: Doug Lloyd <dougl_at_islandnet.com>
subject: [Paddlewise] How's the Weather
Date: Mon, 11 Mar 2002 00:49:50 -0800
In the paper again. Was a front page story -- just a small one. It's was
about the weather. No, I wasn't kayaking. A small snow storm had hit
southern Vancouver Island Friday morning. The reporter was running
around the mall, interviewing shoppers about the snow...and how it may
have inconvenienced them that day. I was buying a new rain jacket, but
hey, gee, can't say that the snow had inconvenienced me. Told the guy my
homeschooled daughters measured the snow that morning as part of an
experiment. 5 inches only, er, 13 cm I corrected myself. But hey, I'm
from Quebec, "this ain't snow" I told him. Next day, I'm quoted
partially in the paper. Must be a slow news day.

Saturday afternoon I leave work a bit early when the power goes out,
heading down to Oak Bay to see the waves. As they come into view,
emotions flooded my mind, rushing deep down to my toes. It's a sensation
that's not all too unfamiliar to me. It's been part of my life for
decades. Lookie-loos had lined the roadway, observing the storm.
Normally I would have had my kayak on the roof-racks. My toes would have
been tingling, and my heart pounding. It's a feeling of co-mingled
excitement and dread. Dread that any mariner in a small boat would head
out into those rough seas. A feeling that the intended little adventure
was wrong in any one's book -- not something sane to do -- yet then
being inexorably drawn into the strom in one's kayak.

But I can't kayak these days. So, I just looked at the seas like the
rest of the boring slobs. I parked the van and trespassed across the
golf course to the water. I didn't need to worry about golf balls flying
on that day. My OR winter cap with double-cinch straps barely stayed on.
The wind was howling -- and very cold. Waves crashed into the reefs. I
think about Steve, who was supposed to do a crossing of Juan de Fuca
that weekend. I hoped he didn't go. I then think of Gareth and his
buddy. They were supposed to leave that weekend too, for their Victoria
to Alaska paddle. I doubted they had left. I performed an experiment,
standing firmly against the gusts, trying to gauge the intensity of the
wind as part of an article I'm writing where a lady was blown over on
the beach in a wind storm off Baffin Island.

Then I just stood still and looked. My link to the sea is indissoluble,
but that day at the shore this past weekend I could only observe. The
winter storms are winding down. Spring is near. I've never missed
paddling in a at least one winter storm. There's always a first time.
But wild seas never fail to stupefy me. Daylight had started to run out.
I had then gotten cold. My leg had started to hurt. I went on to engage
the more cognitive machinations of mind, elucidating the environmental
reality that was playing out before my eyes -- thinking how privileged I
was to still be alive enough to view the spectacle that was washing in.
Life is terminal, and we all die one day to be redissolved into the
material component substances of earth and sea. I finally made the
spiritual connection I was seeking. I then visualized myself blasting
over the shore break, headed for adventure, breathing hard, pushing on
the paddle to the max.. At the point where the demarcation between the
inner and outer mind dissipated, I headed back to the van. In a sense, I
had made it out in my kayak. I was satisfied and happy again. I got home
late for dinner, then talked to my wife about the weather  -- and other
usual stuff. But she wonders why I was late home.

Doug Lloyd

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From: <Gypsykayak_at_aol.com>
subject: Re: [Paddlewise] How's the Weather
Date: Mon, 11 Mar 2002 12:12:51 EST
<<I finally made the spiritual connection I was seeking. >>

very beautiful "peace"  (started out as a typo for "piece" but I left it), Doug.

After what you've been and are going through, I can imagine how this ordeal has been a mind-altering experience.

Well, folks...looks as if Doug is back..and in good writing form.

sandy kramer
miami where it is soo warm (upper 80s but the backyard thermometer hit a 100F (40C) over the weekend.

actually swam in the pool
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From: Melissa Reese <melissa_at_bonnyweeboaty.net>
subject: Re: [Paddlewise] How's the Weather
Date: Mon, 11 Mar 2002 09:53:57 -0800
On Monday, March 11, 2002, at 12:49:50 AM PST, Doug Lloyd wrote:

> I finally made the spiritual connection I was seeking. I then
> visualized myself blasting over the shore break, headed for
> adventure, breathing hard, pushing on the paddle to the max.. At the
> point where the demarcation between the inner and outer mind
> dissipated, I headed back to the van. In a sense, I had made it out
> in my kayak. I was satisfied and happy again.

Thank you Doug. I knew that even before you got your feet - or your
head? - wet again, your spirit would once again dance on the waves.
All it took was a bit of wind to draw you out.

I too, understand the adrenaline rush of paddling in [relatively]
heavy seas, and I also recognize that in addition to/in spite of the
purely physical challenge of the moment, it is our intimate spiritual
connection to the sea that is most deeply felt. It is the happy calm
we feel in the midst of the storm, the almost unreal beauty of our
experience of life.

Welcome back fellow sea spirit.

Melissa
-- 
PGP public keys:
mailto:pgp_keys_at_gmx.co.uk?subject=PGP_Keys_1&Body=Please%20send%20keys

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From: <HenryHast_at_aol.com>
subject: Re: [Paddlewise] How's the Weather
Date: Mon, 11 Mar 2002 14:08:57 EST
Doug,  

Welcome back!  This was just lovely to read.  I think you could have titled 
this "How's Doug."  Glad to see you're doing so well and that you're enjoying 
paddling even if you're not getting wet.  Your spirit is surely back, and I'm 
sure the body will soon be where you want it to be as well.

Hank

> 
> Saturday afternoon I leave work a bit early when the power goes out,
> heading down to Oak Bay to see the waves. As they come into view,
> emotions flooded my mind, rushing deep down to my toes. It's a sensation
> that's not all too unfamiliar to me. It's been part of my life for
> decades. Lookie-loos had lined the roadway, observing the storm.
> Normally I would have had my kayak on the roof-racks. My toes would have
> been tingling, and my heart pounding. It's a feeling of co-mingled
> excitement and dread. Dread that any mariner in a small boat would head
> out into those rough seas. A feeling that the intended little adventure
> was wrong in any one's book -- not something sane to do -- yet then
> being inexorably drawn into the strom in one's kayak.
> 
> But I can't kayak these days. So, I just looked at the seas like the
> rest of the boring slobs. I parked the van and trespassed across the
> golf course to the water. I didn't need to worry about golf balls flying
> on that day. My OR winter cap with double-cinch straps barely stayed on.
> The wind was howling -- and very cold. Waves crashed into the reefs. I
> think about Steve, who was supposed to do a crossing of Juan de Fuca
> that weekend. I hoped he didn't go. I then think of Gareth and his
> buddy. They were supposed to leave that weekend too, for their Victoria
> to Alaska paddle. I doubted they had left. I performed an experiment,
> standing firmly against the gusts, trying to gauge the intensity of the
> wind as part of an article I'm writing where a lady was blown over on
> the beach in a wind storm off Baffin Island.
> 
> Then I just stood still and looked. My link to the sea is indissoluble,
> but that day at the shore this past weekend I could only observe. The
> winter storms are winding down. Spring is near. I've never missed
> paddling in a at least one winter storm. There's always a first time.
> But wild seas never fail to stupefy me. Daylight had started to run out.
> I had then gotten cold. My leg had started to hurt. I went on to engage
> the more cognitive machinations of mind, elucidating the environmental
> reality that was playing out before my eyes -- thinking how privileged I
> was to still be alive enough to view the spectacle that was washing in.
> Life is terminal, and we all die one day to be redissolved into the
> material component substances of earth and sea. I finally made the
> spiritual connection I was seeking. I then visualized myself blasting
> over the shore break, headed for adventure, breathing hard, pushing on
> the paddle to the max.. At the point where the demarcation between the
> inner and outer mind dissipated, I headed back to the van. In a sense, I
> had made it out in my kayak. I was satisfied and happy again. I got home
> late for dinner, then talked to my wife about the weather  -- and other
> usual stuff. But she wonders why I was late home.
> 
> Doug Lloyd
> 



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