Rain
Cape
Falcon
Kayak fall update
2012
First, to answer the question that I'm sure
half of America has been on the edge of their seat
wondering..... No, I did not kill an elk
this year. At the conclusion of twenty consecutive
days of stalking the coastal forests with minimal nourishment and
maximal
exertion, I returned home without the trophy that would
have made for a darn fine story, and if you read this site you
know that I enjoy the story every bit as much as the activity
itself. I did, however, have some of the
most profound experiences of my life, and my
connection with the natural world deepend to level that I didn't know
was possible. Those mornings, sitting in the
dark, covered in mud, still as ghost with thousand pound
elk crashing through the brush mere yards away from my face, were
nothing short of breathtaking. For comparison,
dropping into a fifteen foot, make it or die, wave in a surf
kayak, doesn't even come close to comparing to the sheer
adrenaline of having a big bull elk come in fast to 10 yards,
stop, and tip his horns down. The conditions were wrong
though, and I held my
shot, then, and other times when I probably should have
released, which is infinately preferrable to to the opposite.
I just feel privileged to have gotten so close to them so many
times, and that intimacy of interaction has left me with an
abiding love for these wild creatures. They are so
beautiful, it's hard to feel too bad about not killing one.
I returned to the my normal
life with eyes just a little wider,
ears just a little sharper, and the weird habit of freezing in
place at random moments. Reintigration was difficult
but within a couple days I was cutting red cedar and bending
white oak and generally prepping like a crazy person to pay for my
month long hiatus. This year I was fortunate to be
invited
to teach at the Delmarva paddlers retreat in Lewes, Delaware,
where we built six kayaks in six days and launched them on Rehoboth bay
to coincide with the launch of the retreat. Aside from
losing my computer to a thunder storm (which sounds so much better than
I left it in the rain like an idiot) things went over really
well, and at the retreat itself I had the opportunity to teach
paddling for a couple days. It made me remember how much I
love teaching kayaking, and reminded me that I should probably do
something with that skill. My thoughts drift back to
the video camera and the editing program I taught myself to use last
year. I sincerly hope I can find the time and make good on last
winters promise to get some video up.
Back at the farm here I'm
still busting butt to finish out the
season, I have a construction job to complete and then a full
class to teach in Georgia and then I can finally take a break and make
a plan for the coming year. As usual I'm having a
hard time balancing my commitment to local food with my passion for
kayaking. My girlfriend Lee is doing an amazing job with
the new restaurant Dinner,
at the Nehalem River Inn, although as you can imagine,
I seldom
see her anymore. This December and January I am
availing myself to her completely for a full-on remodel of the space
and I'm thinking that come spring, her delicious farm-fresh
cusine is going to look even better on thick slab tables, made
from logs salvaged by kayak, and milled with a
chainsaw. If I've learned anything, it's that you
can't buy soul, you have to earn it.
Antique 1920's hand cut 1/2 carat diamond set in
hand carved white gold. I had Lee pick out her own ring.
Speaking of Lee, I suppose this would be as good a time as any to
announce that we are tying the knot. The last year with her
has been a revelation in how relationships are supposed to work,
and there is noone I'd rather spend the rest of my life tormenting with
my innumerable crazy schemes. Attractive, capable,
tolerant, and the best cook I've ever met, one could do a lot
worse. We're tentatively considering a ceremony next
summer when the farm is in full bloom.
Sitting in the dark right now
in Lee's dining room, the first
heavy rains of fall lash the windows and I feel that familiar pulse in
my heart, the affinity for water dripping off of trees, draining
in rivulets that become creeks, that feed into rivers, over boulders
and waterfalls to form the architecture of my other passion,
whitewater. I've got a full day today, too
full, a solid 12 hours of work at least, but that should
never, ever interfere with the imperative to chase one's bliss,
so I'm going to wrap this up for now, zip into my leaky old
drysuit, and head up the river for a little bit of crack-of-dawn
solo class 4, because at it's elemental core, that's
what this site is all about. Paddling.
The schedule for 2013 is
online now, Port Townsend and Portland
classes are open for signups. I hope to see you in
the coming year to share the farm, the boats, and my unique
brand of poor humor. Take care.
-Brian
Bonus: Here are some of my favorite photos from late summer and
fall, in random order.
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