So when my husband spontaneously purchased kayaks last fall for our anniversary, I was hesitant to believe that the money he spent would be worth it.
I had kayaked a few times before – once in the sound side of the Outer Banks when I was about twelve or thirteen, and again several years ago at the North Park Boat House right before my husband and I got married. While I love to swim, I had an unreasonable fear of falling into the water on those first couple of trips, and was left with sore shoulders and a familiar feeling of athletic inadequacy after the short tours were over.
But I have been pleased to learn that over the last year, kayaking could easily become one of the only athletic activities my uncoordinated self may actually enjoy.
After the purchase of the kayaks, we were eager to get them into the water ASAP. Living close to The Waterfront in Homestead, we had heard of Duck Hollow and how it played host to fisherman, canoers, and kayakers. So it was a no-brainer to take the short fifteen minute drive, maneuver through the short span of woods, and carry the kayaks down to the riverfront.
Unfortunately, that was the easy part. Once in the water, the current made its presence known immediately. The initial part of the trip wasn’t very strenuous, but by the time we were ready to turn back against the current, I realized I was way in over my head. It had been years since I’d been in a kayak, and although I have a relatively regular routine of lifting hand weights at home while I watch my guilty pleasures on TV, my otherwise unused muscles were not prepared to propel my kayak against the Monongahela. As I watched my much-stronger and faster husband paddle seemingly effortlessly ahead of me, I became convinced that I was not moving at all. The tree line on either side of me looked the same after twenty minutes, and the giant barge gliding through the water thirty yards away from me was intimidating, its giant body causing more wake for me to battle against.
Somehow I eventually made it back to our launch spot. I was exhausted and recovering from a panic attack, but I didn’t want my husband to regret spending money on our new kayaks. Our first two adventures took place in the river, and I had to admit that the expeditions were entirely too strenuous and borderline scary for a panicky, weak-armed person like myself.
Since the river had proved to be more of a battle than anything else, we decided to head to North Park for our next adventure.
As soon as my paddle hit the water, I knew this was going to be better than fighting the mighty Mon.
Here, I could paddle at my leisure with as much or as little effort as I wanted. I could take breaks, letting the gentle wind slowly push me across the lake or spin me around for an alternate view of the park itself. I felt comfortable enough to remove my lifejacket, and even managed a few laughs as I accidently-on-purpose plowed my kayak into my husband’s. Not only was the water calmer and the actual experience more enjoyable and relaxing, but the launch from the sandy shore was easier and there were plenty of people around to assist in the unlikely event of an emergency.
Our most recent expedition found us at Lake Arthur in Moraine State Park. Years ago, we had taken a pontoon boat out on the lake, but this was our first time using the kayaks. Like at North Park, our launch from the sandy shores was smooth and easy, and I actually looked forward to spending the next hour paddling around the lake.
It was a gorgeous July day – blue skies, puffy white clouds, not too hot, not too cold. Wind gusted in every direction, setting the sailboats and kite-boarders for a thrill. Fishing boats and pontoon boats dotted the landscape, and couples walked along the shore with their dogs and kids.
After only a couple of minutes, I realized that the normally calm lake was actually quite choppy. The combination of the wind and the intersecting wake from all the boats was creating small waves that were large enough to crest over the sides of my coral colored kayak. I laughed when the first couple poured in over the sides, soaking my gym pants and tank top, and dug in deep with my paddle while my husband and I rowed to the shade of a bridge in the distance. By the time we got there, the two of us were pretty well-soaked. We were laughing and having fun, and while the choppy water was still no big deal in comparison to the strong current of the Mon, it was clear that this was not going to be the relaxing day on the lake like the ones we’d had at North Park.
Our journey back to the shore was the same as our journey out – our kayaks bucked and dipped, waves smacked us on our backs and on our sides, and our clothes and seats were wetter than they’d ever been on any other adventure. By the time we pulled back onto the soft sands of the grassy beach, we were laughing hysterically and dripping wet. It was at that moment that we realized we had forgotten towels.
I think it’s safe to say that we’ve found our groove as new kayakers. My husband is insistent that he wants to kayak someday to The Point, but I doubt my arms will ever be strong enough to carry us that far. In the meantime, we plan on trying out Keystone Lake and Twin Lakes Park for our next outings, and may even haul our little boats to the Outer Banks for our vacation in September.
So despite the fact that I can barely chew gum and walk at the same time, and certainly can’t call myself coordinated enough for a sport like softball or volleyball, I think kayaking may be a perfect fit for me.
Stacy is a 2003 graduate of West Mifflin Area High School and has completed two courses with The Institute of Children’s Literature. She writes novels for teenagers and adults, both of which can be found on Amazon. Stacy lives in Munhall with her husband and fur kid, and besides writing, enjoys reading, Penguins hockey, and traveling.
No comments:
Post a Comment