New addition

After whining about a rolling boat for a couple years now I finally pulled the trigger and bought a Valley Q boat. I blame a number of factors but the main factor was that Great Lakes Sea Kayak Symposium up in Grand Marais a couple weeks back. I borrowed one of the demo Q boats from the Valley guy and worked with Mike M and Roy on chest sculls, static braces, and the angel roll. While I was far from perfecting those techniques, the feel of the low volume Q boat was a big improvement over the Ore Freighter, my Aquanaut HV. I still need the ore boat for my creature comforts on trips so what to do? Enter factor two, the sale of my Feathercraft Big Kahuna to the ZumbroFallsImpressionist. The ZFI is a former co worker, Sierra Club activist, Prius owner, hugger of trees, landscape artist, and all round good person. The sheer green-ness and sustainability of the Kahuna, which could be packed in the Prius, no wind resistance to reduce mileage, light weight, etc. made it the perfect boat for Ms ZFI. Factor three was the Q Boat itself. RonO, paddling buddy and fellow beer afficianado, had actually ordered this very boat in the winter of 2007 from Midnight Sun. After playing with another friends Q Boat he came to the realization that it just would not hold the necessary creature comforts for extended paddles and switched to a Nordkapp. Changed horses in midstream as they say. The boat came in, Midnight Sun went out of business, and Midwest Mountaineering inherited the Q Boat. Midwest is arguably our finest paddle shop in the Twin City area. They do a lot of education, sponsor events, and are a great local resource. Peter, Jerome, and Guy are great guys to work with and knowledgeable paddlers as well. When I saw that they had marked down the price on the Q Boat and a couple of others, the rusty wheels began to turn in my brain again.

Malcom Gladwell defines the tipping point as, "the levels at which the momentum for change becomes unstoppable". Factor four in this process, the true tipping point, came when the VOR and I began to discuss new windows and French doors for the patio. When the decision to visit the Renewal by Anderson showroom was made I knew I had to act and act quickly. The laws of economics are unbreakable. I stopped down at Midwest on my lunch hour and came back to work with a boat on my roof.

So far, I'm more than happy with the Q Boat. I managed to hit 3 out of 4 reverse sweep rolls in it the first time out and do a passable chest scull, skills which had eluded me in both the Aquanaut HV and the Avocet. It also, at 18' and 21" wide seems fast. We shall see since I will be paddling it in the Two Harbors Kayak Festival's Betty's Pie 5 mile race this weekend. As I've said before, sea kayaks are like hunting rifles; you always have more than you need but never as many as you want. I'm proud to do my small part to stimulate the economy.

Busted!

On Sunday night RonO, GalwayGuy, and I headed over to Long Lake to play in the water. It was here that I fully developed my Age Inverse Theory of Kayak Rolling, which I explained to GG. It postulates that a 54 year old guy has approximately 22 rolls in him before his form begins to fail and he's forced to the shore for a beer. A 22 year old guy has roughly 54 rolls in him before the same phenomena occurs. After fleshing out this theory and asking GG to complete his 32 additional rolls closer to shore, Ron and I sat down on the beach with a couple of Newcastles to act as spotters. It was a beautiful summer evening, perfect in almost every way until the jet ski rolled up.

Long lake has special regulations on the weekends. No wake before noon and after 6pm. This allows kayakers, canoeists, sailors, and wind surfers some time to play without the large convoluted waves from criss crossing power craft wakes. So when these knuckleheads rolled in we wondered what they were up to. What they were up to was blissfully ignoring the large sign with the no wake rules on it. This mid 20's guy with his bikini clad hottie girlfriend just fired the thing up and took off wide open across the lake. Ron and I grumbled, took another sip of brown ale and agreed that 'someone oughta turn em in'. About this time 3 guys in an older speedboat with a 85hp Johnson, early 70's vintage, launched also. After tinkering with the motor they roared off also, just as the jet ski came back to the dock. Two minutes later the Ramsey Co water patrol showed up. Someone had indeed called, likely a homeowner on the west side of the lake (the east is all county park), pissed off that their long awaited quiet evening on the deck had been violated.

Justice did not prevail however. When No1 son played hockey he had a keen sense of justice. If he was cheap-shotted and no penalty was called he would bide his time, sometimes for a couple of periods. I would know with certainty that at some point in the game the unpunished offender would be ground into the boards, speared, or have an elbow insinuated into his neck area. No1 son, of course, would be caught and sent to the penalty box for two minutes while the instigator got off with nothing more than a few bumps and abrasions. So it went on the lake. The jet skiers quickly loaded up and got out of there, since the deputies never saw them violating the rule. The guys in the speedboat got the warning. As it turned out, the boat and motor has just been purchased and these guys had just spent a couple of hours getting it running. They literally had the thing opened up for 2 minutes to test the engine while the jet skiers had been out there doing mindless figure eights for at least 15 or 20 minutes. I sidled up to the deputy and pointed that out, at which point he asked if we were the ones that called. I told him no and explained my theory for a jet ski season, much like deer season, where you could take one jet skier per season (either sex) with an option for additional bonus tags. He laughed, nodded, and I hope this bit of humor got the boys in the speedboat their warning rather than an expensive ticket. They should have been out there earlier but when tinkering with a 35 year old Johnson outboard things don't always operate on a schedule.

Silbs had an excellent post today on the crowded lakes around metro areas. Within the Minnneapolis/StPaul area we have a number of lakes that have 5hp or electric motors only regulations. With the literally hundreds of lakes within an hours drive this does not impose much hardship and makes it easy for we people powered watercraft owners to get in a little exhaust free activity. When the lakes are limited and crowded however, there needs to be some sort of compromise rules of use. Those who know me well are likely spitting up coffee and clutching their sides as they laugh convulsively about my advocacy of rules. I've been known to bend and ignore a few over the years, ones that I feel are particularly egregious, but never ones that would directly impinge on or impact others. Next time something like this occurs, I may be the one that calls the water patrol.

Round Gitchee Gumee

One of the most beautiful and spectacular spots on Lake Superior is the Rock Island Lodge, owned and operated by the folks at Naturally Superior Adventures. It sits on a rocky point at the mouth of the Michipicoten River near Wawa, ON, with sand beach extending to the south and the highlands of Mountain Ash Hill, Bare Summit, and Paugon Hill to the west. Naturally Superior is a superb kayak outfitter, teaching and instruction center, and workshop sponsor. Check out their blog and website. They are a quality business with friendly folks, a professional demeanor, and an accommodating philosophy of operation. I can't say enough good things and neither can the Toronto Star or National Geographic.

As we sat on the deck, right on the rocky edge of Gitchee Gumee, enjoying two fine porters, Summit Great Northern and Great Lakes Edmund Fitzgerald, we watched two paddlers headed our way from a long ways off. They crossed the tricky and steep water at the mouth of the river and landed literally at our feet. When I asked them where they paddled from they told me, "Thunder Bay". We had stumbled upon (or vice versa) Karl Wilson and Dave Mcgratten, on the last leg of their Big Water Expedition, a kayak circumnavigation of Lake Superior. We chatted a bit, pointed them toward the beach where they could set up their tents, and offered them beers when they got settled in. I'm sure they had put on serious miles (kilometers in Canada) that day and must have crashed because we didn't see them again until morning.

Paddling around the lake is something I've always thought about. Since the most vacation I've had in a row since I was 18 was 10 days, I think it may need to wait until I'm retired if I'm going to seriously consider it. In the interim, I have a map of Lake Superior on the wall of my office and add the stretches of shoreline I've paddled with a red pen. I would like to get those beers to Karl and Dave however. From the SPOT tracker map it would appear they are almost to the Sleeping Giant. I guess I'll need to look them up next time I'm up Thunder Bay way.

P.S. Be sure to check out a new (to me anyhow) magazine that is published by a couple in Thunder Bay, Superior Outdoors. It comes out twice a year, the photography and stories are excellent, and yes, I am now a subscriber.

The year of the vermin

Its been an interesting year, vermin wise, for the Voice of Reason. It began on the Mississippi River, scene of a recent Sea Kayaker article, "Paddling the Pools", with a vicious and unprovoked carp attack. A few short weeks later on Manitou Island, we were awakened by the KingOfIronwoodIsland, informing us that a large black bear was sitting on his butt 20 yards away staring at us. Even though this boy was the cause of Manitou Island being closed, his presence didn't alarm the VOR nearly as much as the carp. Or the snakes on the next trip. Her and MrEngineerGear, another snakeophobe, noticed a snake slithering through the water near Stockton Island and shared a mutual shudder of horror. The very next day we stopped on Hermit Island for lunch and the VOR sat down on a very comfy log. As she munched her lunch she looked down between her feet and saw the fellow in the photo. A jack-in-the-box could not have come off the log faster. To her credit her snake scream this time did not compare to the one at Pictured Rocks the year before when I was sure she had come on a drowned and partially eaten corpse; it was however just a good sized bull snake.

On the trip around Gitchee Gumee we did encounter one bear, no snakes, and no carp. We did encounter the smallest and arguably most insidious vermin of all however. The gnat, cousin of the black fly and close relative of the hated mosquito. For some reason these pests seem attracted to the females that I paddle with regularly. GurneyGranny is extremely anti-insect and actually suggested moving the 4th of July trip off the Apostles to an inland lake due to an alarmist bug report from some semi reliable friend. I remember the BessemerConvivialist in the Keewenaw, neoprene clad legs covered with black flies and a sour expression on her face. I do have a simple theory for this phenomona however. They simply smell better than I do. Flowers give off scents and have colors that attract insects to cross pollinate them. Women slather on moisturizers and other mysterious creams and lotions made from herbal/floral extracts and favor colorful, stylish gear. Why then, are they surprised that the bugs are drawn to them? Note the way the flies love the yellow life jacket in the photo. I guess I should thank them for luring the bugs away from me but I've found that biting my tongue on this issue is the most prudent path, especially when they are at their orneriest in the heat of insect battle.

We stopped at the northenmost point on Lake Superior and wandered out on to a beautiful overlook. Unfortunately the gnats found it attractive also and the little buggers nailed us both a number of times before we fled. I had a couple of bites that were aggravating but nothing like the VOR. That afternoon she looked like Rocky Balboa in the 13th round against Apollo Creed after his eye had been swollen shut. "Yo Mick, I can't see, you need to cut it!". She rallied nicely however and both the eye and gnat induced cauliflower ear had healed nicely by the time we got to the symposium in Grand Marais.

I guess if you are spending time in the natural environment you need to deal with the natural environment. I had a guy on Isle Royale in 1975 offer me $40 for my mosquito headnet. It was late May and the mosquito hatch was unbelievable. This would be $152.56 in 2008 dollars and he said he'd offer more but that was all the money he had. In a textbook example of market economics I refused him. My discomfort for the rest of the trip was worth considerably more than $40. To the credit of all three of the afflicted women mentioned in the post, they soldier on with kayak camping, adapting and developing better and more effective means to deal with insects and other vermin. Now if I can only develop and market a snake detector........

Music on the water; fish in the water

My nine days on and around Lake Superior have left me in a peaceful zen-like state for th e most part. A lack of traffic, electronic devices, noise, and people in general has me in a fine state of mind. Yesterday, technology malfunction and the accompanying effort to rectify it almost catapulted me right back into the normal mildly aggravated state of urban angst. Cell phone failure had me at the local Verizon office, featuring an ambiance much like the bar scene in the original Star Wars movie, and I could feel the aggravation rising in me like the thermometer on a sweltering summer day. What kept me calm (actually calmer, I guess) was the fact that I would be on the water by 6:00pm that evening.

The Voice of Reason and her sisters are huge fans of MIchael Monroe, a folk singer from Grand Marais, MN. Last summer I was abandoned, blissfully rolling the Aquanaut in the middle of Grand Marais harbor, while the VOR and TheMayor raced across the water after hearing Mr. Monroe’s dulcet tones from a beach near town. GalwayGuy on the other hand, rolls his eyes when Michael’s name is even mentioned. I personally claim neutrality, my own little Monroe Doctrine as it were, although one more rendition of Cat Steven’s…ah,sorry… Yusef Islam’s… Moonshadow might drive me into the GG camp. In any event, Michael Monroe was playing at Talley’s, a bar and grill on White Bear Lake and we could not miss him. We rounded up a half dozen folks and paddled over to watch and listen from the relative comfort of our kayaks.

There are far worse ways to spend a summer evening. The protocol on these musical kayak events at Talley’s is to bring adult beverages and some hors’ de ouvres to share. The boats are tethered together in a commandeered slip, the goodies are produced, and we settle in for the music. Paddle floats and bilge pumps are replaced by corkscrews, cheese knives, and olive jars. The stray wine or beer bottle may be seen peeking out of the day hatches. Spray skirts are popped and goodies are passed from boat to boat. Inevitably something hits the water and when it does the fish are ready.

The Olympus 790 is a nice little point and shoot digital camera that’s waterproof and shockproof, two features that make it perfect for kayakers. When the water’s too rough or the weather’s too wet to pull out the Nikon SLR this little guy works well. Last night as the panfish began taking crumbs off the surface, I just stuck the camera in the water and got some nice images of bluegills and pumpkinseed sunfish flitting around just below the surface with the Valley and Capella boats in the background.

It was the perfect summer evening for lounging on the water. The once more laboriously replaced cell phone lured a couple more friends and their dog down to the docks. More importantly, the rejuvenating power of the water kept my head in the spot that my trip around the big lake had put it into. And I shall work diligently to keep it there!