Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Getting out of the kayak

So a few days ago, Tom took the kayak out for me so I could paddle around Oquirrh Lake just as the sun was going down.  I have no trouble getting in the kayak.  I just plop in, and Tom pushed me afloat. It take 50 minutes to circle the lake, which is shaped like a doughnut.

Kayaking is satisfying, because it is silent, and one shares it with ducks and geese and yellow iris growing along the banks.  I had no trouble paddling consistently, but I couldn't help thinking about Becky Richins crossing the Great Salt Lake in her kayak and running into a full blown storm in the middle of it.  I heard her read about three and four foot waves blasting her around and was only comforted by the fact that I knew she had made it through.

I'm much too old to take on that kind of onslaught.

Apparently, I am also too old to get out of the kayak.  I hadn't kayaked in three years and in those three years, my knees have pretty much given up the ghost.  Tom hauled me onto shore and I said, "I don't know how to get up."  He gave me his hand as if to pull me up and I broke into giggles, because I knew that wouldn't work.

"I have to be on my knees," I said.  (I learned this from getting out of the bathtub). So I more or less fell forward on my knees, from where I could shove myself up.  It is humiliating to be so clunky.  With some practice, I may get better, although I'm not optimistic.  I'm going to be making ugly exits from now on.

I've lost 9 pounds.  15 to go.  Pat on my back.


  1. I loved reading this post yesterday. I have a kayak, but no body of water. I love that you can commune with the waterfowl and all things nature.

    The best part? Out in my lavender this pre-dawn morning, as I was attempting to rise from weeding a row, I found myself doing the Louise Plummer ascent. Clunky, yes. But, hey: it works. (And I am 54.)

  2. Here's a pat on the back. And also, YOU WERE IN A KAYAK! ROWING! Double pat.