[Paddlewise] The Beast of Bugdome (was Maps versus Charts)

> I've seen a picture of your boat, but not with you in it. Duane and I
> sometimes wonder if you're just a mythical figure--some kind of kayaking
> yeti!
>

Yes, precisely what my wife calls me when we go kayaking together, as in, 
"My Douglas, are you a kayaking Big Foot or what?" (I think that is the same 
animal, maybe Sasquatch to you American westcoasters). Though most kayaking 
trips I take her on are hosted well by myself (location, conditions, 
comfort, food) the first few hours can be a difficult transition for me from 
my usual solo kayaking routine, where I'm oblivious to the mundane niceties 
she fosters at home. Painful for her, apparently, to watch, hear, and 
smell...

She doesn't understand my propensity to defecate at will (usually, out of 
public view), my penchant for urinating indiscriminately anywhere I choose 
without warning(doesn't understand territorial marking stratagems), my 
inability to withhold burps and farts for release at a more opportune time, 
the indiscrete habit of scratching the family jewels and hairy armpits at 
the slightest irritation, the unbathed smell factor clad in ripe polypro, 
the grime/fuzz factor of unkempt teeth and vulgar breath even before morning 
(yes, I did pack my toothbrush, somewhere), the voracious  machinations and 
quantity as I gulp down dinner (honey, I've been towing you all day, okay), 
the disturbing habit I have of swatting flies/mosquitoes with deadly 
instinctual accuracy, the ghastly and extinct-primate like emanations from 
my sinus cavities as I clear them after afternoon rolling practice, and the 
incredible amount of carnage to the beach as endless gear is ransacked 
throughout the campsite (now yes, that is a big footprint). Perhaps mostly 
it's the pre-human-like conversation: she's looks forward to alone time with 
me - no kids, no house cleaning,  chance to "talk." Mostly she gets, "Uh, Uh 
hu, Mmmm, Arg."

Or perhaps it's my hairy hominoid physique silhouetted against the moon's 
backdrop as I haul her out of the tent late at night, howling primate-like 
at the moon as noseums see all as we engage in married behavior. Then there 
seems to be no pejorative tone as she calls me her hairy beast. Go figure.

DL
Ugliness is, in a way, is superior to beauty because it lasts. -Serge 
Gainsbourg


> I've seen a picture of your boat, but not with you in it. Duane and I
> sometimes wonder if you're just a mythical figure--some kind of kayaking
> yeti!
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