Despite being completely trashed and stained with toxic smoke from the fire, I haven’t been able to give up my kayaks. I bond with equipment that’s seen me through near death experiences. Especially on such a regular basis. I paddled that IK through, around, under, and over shit that it was absolutely not rated for, and my hard shell – oh the messy stories.
It got to be so much fun paddling the IK that I got intensely addicted- the low profile, the not having to dodge rocks with my head when I got flipped over, unlike a hard shell boat. My other boat hasn’t seen any whitewater in longer than I can remember, and that’s not going to change. It’s just a cool boat; an old but playful and pretty little river runner with a tendency to stern squirt if you aren’t paying attention. Maybe I’ll take a few pictures, cry a little, and release them into the universe.
I still dream of whitewater and I know I’ll find a way to get out there again someday. Being out on the water in any way is heavenly – whitewater, flat water, whatever.
High – Sir Sly
Don’t Worry – Appleton