Hey everyone, it's be awhile, hasn't it? I hope you're all doing good. I decided I'd try to get back into blogging with something simple like end-of-the-month wrap-ups and work up from there, life and sanity permitting.
I don't know about you guys, but July was LOOOONNNGGGG for me. It started with a family reunion/early celebration for my grandma's 90th birthday. My dad's family is spread all over the country so we had people coming from Florida, Alabama, Kansas, etc. and we didn't even have a 'big' turn out. There was just a lot of people around for the weekend. Sure, they're family, but in this situation, they were practically strangers, too. Nothing like those kinds of situations to remind me that I am, indeed, an introvert.
The following weekend I went up into the hills with a friend from church to kayak on a lake about 45 minutes away. I have regrets about this. It was a perfectly cool day (65 degrees and sunny with a slight breeze which isn't bad for kayaking. It is bad for swimming, but I'm the baseball cap, long-sleeve shirt, and jean sort- of person so no worries there. For the Saturday after the 4th, it really wasn't busy on the lake. We were the one of three cars at the one boat launch (there's multiple camps/access points around the large lake). We had an inflatable kayak we filled up and set out.
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| Rimrock Lake. The island is somewhere off in the distant. |
It was pretty fun. We were going with the current, and there were waves, small enough to make it fun, but not large enough to make us feel unsafe. We were headed toward an island within sight of the boat landing. It's something I like to do when kayaking -- to have a destination, somewhere away from the people, somewhere you can explore. With the current, we reached the island in very little time. The disboarding of a kayak can be a bit inelegant and very much unsteady. It's probably my least favorite part since I generally feel safer with two feet on solid ground (so how come I even bought a kayak, you ask? I might be asking myself that now, too). For a second I was just picturing the kayak floating away with me in it after my friend climbed out (with the oars) and made it to shore. *shudders* These are the kind-of thoughts that haunt me.
Anyway, I tumbled out of the kayak, and we pulled it up on shore, took two steps, and the kayak, filled with a couple inches of water, lifted and blew across the rocky beach. It lingered for a moment on the largest of the rocks before somersaulting into the lake. My kayak, the only way off this island, was leaving me behind most lightheartedly.
And so, for better or worse, I scrambled across the rocky beach and plunged into the water after it. *pushes pause*
Now we interrupt this story to insert some facts. Firstly: Meaghan doesn't much like water. She isn't afraid of it so much as very wary of it. Early on in life I'd say she was afraid of it, due to some older siblings/cousin teasings and just...in general, but through much anxiety she was coerced? Prodded? Persuaded? Forced? into taking swimming lessons. She did, but that was twelve years ago. Unfortunately she hasn't had much practice or experience since then and so some of that discomfort has come back.
Secondly: there's this small but important aspect about the Pacific Northwest and places where the water sources come from melting snow on mountains -- the water is cold. It can be 80 degrees, 90 degrees, what-have-you, and the water will still be COLD, and that cold can be quite shocking if you haven't worked on getting adapted to it. In fact, as long as the water is below about 59 degrees, you are at risk of cold water shock and hypothermia. When you get cold water shock, your body automatically does a 'gasp for air' which is the cause of a lot of drowning. Meaghan actually did know this, though.
Thirdly: When does Meaghan actually make spur of the moment decisions? Like ever?
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| Rimrock Lake is on the left. This picture was taken in the Fall, though, when the water was being let out as you can tell by all the dry part. Clear Lake on the right. |
*pushes play*
The water was cold, and instead of the bottom of the lake gradually falling away from the island, it dropped off. Within a couple steps, my feet could no longer feel the ground beneath me. The kayak was being pushed steadily along by the waves, and I was floundering. Hello, life vest, jeans, sandals, and baseball cap. I propelled myself farther from the island, but the wind picked the kayak up and somersaulted it ahead of me. The water was slapping against my chest, getting in my face, my mouth, up my nose. I was gasping for air.
I don't know what made me jump into the water, but that was the moment I knew I had to get back to the island. There was no way I was going to end up floating in the middle of the lake somewhere between my kayak and the island where my friend was stranded. I managed to work my way back, and when I was close enough, my friend reached out the end of the oar for me to grab to steady myself as I came the rest of the way. And my kayak continued on its merry, careless way.
I was shaking. I couldn't stop shaking. The wind was blowing harder now, hard enough that it made it difficult for us to stand on top of the island and wave our oars in hopes someone somewhere would see us. With all my clothes soaked, I didn't last long. I ended up scrambling down to find the one wind-break on the island between two rocks while she kept watch up top. There the sun came and started to warm me and clear my thoughts. It would have even been a beautiful place to sit and linger, minus the whole 'stranded on an island' part.
It was going to be alright. We would be alright. After all, I had just finished watching the Agents of Shield episode where Simmons is trapped on a desolate planet without food and water so I had a clear idea how long a person can survive without either. However, the parents were a whole different matter. Sure, spending a night on the island without food and water wasn't ideal, but it'd be an interesting experience, and we'd survive. It just wouldn't be great for the parents when we never came home and later they'd find the car parked near the lake, but all ended well. All our frantic oar waving paid off, and some non-clueless people came along in a small motorboat (while a few clueless people just kept going). It was only meant for two individuals, but one guy stayed on the island, and the other took us back to shore which was a whole a lot of fun *insert sarcasm*.
They should have taken us one at a time because the front end where my friend and I sat was too low in the water. Subsequently when we were going against the current, the boat was hitting each wave and drenching us with water. I was just holding on for dear life, wondering if after everything, I'd still end up in the middle of the lake. Didn't help that the guy swore each time it happened. Real comforting and all. We reached land. Then we hiked back between the highway and the shore to the car. So ends the saga of inflatable kayak adventures.
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| I kinda haven't forgiven it for floating away on me... |
I don't know if I like water anymore, or being cold, but hey, I got to ride in a motorboat, and neither of us freaked out externally so that's always a plus. I'm starting to think mishaps like this just happen to me, though. I'm awfully thankful for a God who's watching out and saving me from myself at times.
How are all of you doing? What exciting things are you doing this Summer? How do you feel about water? Kayaking?
[Oh yeah, and I also bought a new (used) car in July. So there's that.]
