Canoeing in the rain
Sep. 4th, 2003 02:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
catsittingstillWow--thanks for the welcomes, everybody! Bear with me; I'm not sure who's who yet. Err..FilkerDave, and autographedcat, would you mind e-mailing me your names? If you're comfortable with that, I mean; it's also okay if you don't want to. It's just that I have a feeling you might be somebody I know but I don't recognize your handles.
Today has been such a cool day.
I got up early (okay, 6:50am) and took my canoe out to Panther Creek State Park, which is about 15 miles northeast of here, where Panther Creek (yes, there used to be panthers (cougars) there; no, there aren't any there now) runs into Cherokee lake. One of the park rangers helped me take the canoe off the car and I canoed on the lake for a couple of hours.
It was raining gently when I put in. The lake waters are a gentle green, stained with mud at the verges. I've been learning to do an Omar stroke, and practiced it this morning. It's a great stroke for sneaking up on wildlife; if you do it right it's almost totally silent. I glided sneakily around the verges of the lake, my efforts punctuated by the occasional bump when I touched the canoe with the paddle, or "ow," when I pinched my fingers between the paddle and the gunwale. A Great Blue Heron took off not 20 feet from me and flew across the lake with a few great strokes of its long grey wings. I came across a fish or two, mortally alarmed to be suddenly caught between the dark length of the canoe and the red mud of the shore; with a silver flip they darted under the boat to disappear into the green murk.
Water built up gradually in the bottom of the canoe as I worked my way down the shore, but the weather was so warm I just left off the jacket and got soaked. Part of the time, it poured, but there was no lightning so I just kept going. The only part I minded was not being able to wipe my glasses dry. I did find out that if you swish them in lake water it takes the fog right off, and leaves only a few big drops that are much easier to see around than lots of little ones.
It's peaceful, canoing in the rain. The jet-skis and motorboats all stay at home. I go to the water for wilderness--to hear the cries of the birds and the sound of the wind in the leaves. The plop and splurk of a fish making herself scarce is a startlement--the rain that continues under the trees long after it has stopped under the open sky is a delight. The mosquitoes stay under cover, whining about the weather--which is a good thing because I forgot my mosquito repellent.
The lake is very high because it has been an unusually rainy year. There are trees and brush surrounded by water, making interesting places to work the canoe into and out of. It's fun, trying to glide through, curtsying the nose and tail of the canoe left and right, trying to thread the maze without bumping anything. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. The nice thing about a canoe is you can aways face the other end and paddle out again.
The scuba booties my brother gave me for Christmas work like a charm; they protect my feet from the rocks and mud of the shore when I get out and dump the water out of the boat, kept my feet from getting cold (though I suppose today isn't a fair test of that; both the rain and the lake were nearly blood-warm), and were comfortable to wear both sitting and kneeling in the canoe. Plus, removing them once they're wet is valuable strength training.
When I started to want the bathroom more than I wanted to keep paddling, I came back to the landing. I had a bit of luck; there was an electric company truck there, with a couple of guys waiting for the rain to stop so it would be safe to work on the power lines. When they saw me pull the nose of the canoe ashore they hopped right out and came down to see if I wanted help putting it on the car. I could probably put the canoe on the car by myself--I've done it before; but it's hard, and awkward, and tends to scratch the car. So I accepted the largess fortune had thrown my way.
On the way home, I saw a couple of wild turkeys stalking about in the rain: big dark birds with naked red heads. They used to be very rare, but my bird book says they're making a comeback. The park ranger says she's seen as many as twelve in a flock in the park.
I sat on some plastic to drive home. When I got out I found muddy water in the plastic, which I dumped out. I discovered when I got home that everything in my wallet got soaking wet. (Note to self; next time you go canoing leave your social security card and your birth certificate *at home*.) I couldn't have gotten any wetter if I'd fallen in. I took a shower and changed all my clothes before I dared touch the computer.
Now I need to pack up the peaches I dried yesterday, cut up another load of peaches to dry, start a loaf of bread, hang out the laundry and walk out to the fruit stand to get an onion to make dinner. I sure do love canoing.
Life is good.
Today has been such a cool day.
I got up early (okay, 6:50am) and took my canoe out to Panther Creek State Park, which is about 15 miles northeast of here, where Panther Creek (yes, there used to be panthers (cougars) there; no, there aren't any there now) runs into Cherokee lake. One of the park rangers helped me take the canoe off the car and I canoed on the lake for a couple of hours.
It was raining gently when I put in. The lake waters are a gentle green, stained with mud at the verges. I've been learning to do an Omar stroke, and practiced it this morning. It's a great stroke for sneaking up on wildlife; if you do it right it's almost totally silent. I glided sneakily around the verges of the lake, my efforts punctuated by the occasional bump when I touched the canoe with the paddle, or "ow," when I pinched my fingers between the paddle and the gunwale. A Great Blue Heron took off not 20 feet from me and flew across the lake with a few great strokes of its long grey wings. I came across a fish or two, mortally alarmed to be suddenly caught between the dark length of the canoe and the red mud of the shore; with a silver flip they darted under the boat to disappear into the green murk.
Water built up gradually in the bottom of the canoe as I worked my way down the shore, but the weather was so warm I just left off the jacket and got soaked. Part of the time, it poured, but there was no lightning so I just kept going. The only part I minded was not being able to wipe my glasses dry. I did find out that if you swish them in lake water it takes the fog right off, and leaves only a few big drops that are much easier to see around than lots of little ones.
It's peaceful, canoing in the rain. The jet-skis and motorboats all stay at home. I go to the water for wilderness--to hear the cries of the birds and the sound of the wind in the leaves. The plop and splurk of a fish making herself scarce is a startlement--the rain that continues under the trees long after it has stopped under the open sky is a delight. The mosquitoes stay under cover, whining about the weather--which is a good thing because I forgot my mosquito repellent.
The lake is very high because it has been an unusually rainy year. There are trees and brush surrounded by water, making interesting places to work the canoe into and out of. It's fun, trying to glide through, curtsying the nose and tail of the canoe left and right, trying to thread the maze without bumping anything. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. The nice thing about a canoe is you can aways face the other end and paddle out again.
The scuba booties my brother gave me for Christmas work like a charm; they protect my feet from the rocks and mud of the shore when I get out and dump the water out of the boat, kept my feet from getting cold (though I suppose today isn't a fair test of that; both the rain and the lake were nearly blood-warm), and were comfortable to wear both sitting and kneeling in the canoe. Plus, removing them once they're wet is valuable strength training.
When I started to want the bathroom more than I wanted to keep paddling, I came back to the landing. I had a bit of luck; there was an electric company truck there, with a couple of guys waiting for the rain to stop so it would be safe to work on the power lines. When they saw me pull the nose of the canoe ashore they hopped right out and came down to see if I wanted help putting it on the car. I could probably put the canoe on the car by myself--I've done it before; but it's hard, and awkward, and tends to scratch the car. So I accepted the largess fortune had thrown my way.
On the way home, I saw a couple of wild turkeys stalking about in the rain: big dark birds with naked red heads. They used to be very rare, but my bird book says they're making a comeback. The park ranger says she's seen as many as twelve in a flock in the park.
I sat on some plastic to drive home. When I got out I found muddy water in the plastic, which I dumped out. I discovered when I got home that everything in my wallet got soaking wet. (Note to self; next time you go canoing leave your social security card and your birth certificate *at home*.) I couldn't have gotten any wetter if I'd fallen in. I took a shower and changed all my clothes before I dared touch the computer.
Now I need to pack up the peaches I dried yesterday, cut up another load of peaches to dry, start a loaf of bread, hang out the laundry and walk out to the fruit stand to get an onion to make dinner. I sure do love canoing.
Life is good.
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no subject
Date: 2003-09-04 02:13 pm (UTC)Ok, I have to ask...what's the "Omar" stroke? I know a silent stroke useful in still water, but not sure if it's the same thing.
Debbie
We've been over the "I'm Cat": moving along :-)
Date: 2003-09-04 05:15 pm (UTC)The Omar stroke is a modified J stroke (straight stroke through the water beside the canoe, at the end of the stroke turn the blade sideways by pointing the thumb of your top hand away from you, use the paddle as a steering oar to correct as the canoe tries to turn away from the stroke). In the Omar, after you steer with the paddle, you *let go* briefly with the top hand to switch your grip so your top thumb points toward you, and cut the blade back through the water to the start of the stroke. Frequently you don't cut straight back (at least I don't), but out in an oval and pull the blade toward the gunwale just before starting the power stroke. I think it works best for a solo canoer (my husband doesn't like to canoe; it's too much like work, so I go by myself a lot) kneeling close to the paddle-side gunwale in the middle of the canoe. It was apparently invented by a guy named Omer Stringer. (I just went and looked it up and darn it--I've been misspelling it; sorry.) I found an article about how to do the stroke at http://www.nashwaakpaddles.com/, and since I was having a lot of trouble paddling upwind, I gave it a try.
Does that explain, or are you just confused on a much higher plane now? Is that the stroke you were thinking of?
Yours--Cat
Re: We've been over the "I'm Cat": moving along :-)
Date: 2003-09-05 05:49 am (UTC)re: Omer Stringer...ah, that explains it. Omer Stringer was a cottager on our lake in Algonquin Park. My husband Jeff got some canoe lessons from him a long way back. I'm familiar with the stroke, didn't know it got named after Omer! :-)
Omer is legendary around our lake, as is his brother Jimmy. There's a picture of Jimmy up in our cottage (Jimmy apparently died falling through the ice, hauling groceries).
Debbie
Re: We've been over the "I'm Cat": moving along :-)
Date: 2003-09-05 07:40 pm (UTC)Yours--Cat
Re: We've been over the "I'm Cat": moving along :-)
Date: 2003-09-06 06:42 am (UTC)And from reading your Livejournal postings so far, Cat, I've already started wishing we lived closer together. I would LOVE to go canoeing with you sometime. And I want to learn how to make dried tomatoes!!
Debbie "I Want" Ohi
We've been over the "I'm Cat": moving along :-)
Date: 2003-09-04 05:16 pm (UTC)The Omar stroke is a modified J stroke (straight stroke through the water beside the canoe, at the end of the stroke turn the blade sideways by pointing the thumb of your top hand away from you, use the paddle as a steering oar to correct as the canoe tries to turn away from the stroke). In the Omar, after you steer with the paddle, you *let go* briefly with the top hand to switch your grip so your top thumb points toward you, and cut the blade back through the water to the start of the stroke. Frequently you don't cut straight back (at least I don't), but out in an oval and pull the blade toward the gunwale just before starting the power stroke. I think it works best for a solo canoer (my husband doesn't like to canoe; it's too much like work, so I go by myself a lot) kneeling close to the paddle-side gunwale in the middle of the canoe. It was apparently invented by a guy named Omer Stringer. (I just went and looked it up and darn it--I've been misspelling it; sorry.) I found an article about how to do the stroke at http://www.nashwaakpaddles.com/, and since I was having a lot of trouble paddling upwind, I gave it a try.
Does that explain, or are you just confused on a much higher plane now? Is that the stroke you were thinking of?
Yours--Cat