Part Two - my soul is in the water...
6 am Monday: We took a short hike through the woods to the edge of
the wetlands. Days of heavy rains gifted us opportunity to board our
kayaks between submerged trees in the tropical forest. We cut through
the water droplets that hung in a heavy mist over the still and quiet lake
on this cold autumn morning. The sun greeted us rising slowly over the
mountains to our east as we entered the open waters of the lake.
The lake is a chameleon from morning to night. Best opportunities for
kayaking come early as the placid waters turn choppy by the windy
afternoon, making the difference between a relaxing trip and a tough
workout. Heading up river this morning we had little current and no
wind to fight.
Egrets dominated the morning skies in the competitive search for an
early meal. One rather large specimen boasting a 4 foot blue green
hued wing span glided effortlessly over and then past us without
concern or notice of us. Paddling a quiet vessel provides viewing of
wildlife much closer than with a loud motorized boat.
I enjoy the clean feel of the cold spring feed water of our river and the
pressure of the water pounding against my muscles. Mother natures jet
tub. But the heavy rains of the past few days made the water just that
much stronger, that much colder, that much fiercer. The small canyon
river could have only been fuller if it had been raining while we were
kayaking. These are the days and times in which we are simultaneously
warned not to pass yet spiritually drawn to make the passage.
Luis was lead today, as we passed over bamboo that had been a
canopy high above our heads only weeks before. The waterfall and
cave we climbed up to, played in, and rested in became closer, yet less
inviting this day. We gave it a quick viewing and continued on. Today's
adventure was going to be about seeing just how far we could challenge
ourselves to pass.
One area that was impassable on our last visit was made passable by
the immense amount of water covering the difficult rocky drop off.
Grabbing a hold of the porous volcanic rock with small holes perfect for
fingers to slip deeply into allowed us to wade our way along the side of
tough areas in which current would have overtook paddler.
The areas that required waist deep portage around impassable
boulders or passage underneath the cold flowing water sent a chill deep
into me that I just couldn't shake. I wanted to be wearing a shorty wet
suit when Luis and I passed chest deep along a rock wall trying to get
good finger grip into the rock. Instead I wore the usually sufficient
spandex shorts and top. Whether it was the cold chill or a premonition; I
put my secured life vest back onto my body and tightened up the strap.
After managing a difficult pass Luis secured his kayak and his own
footing before called me forward.
"I don't think I can make it!" I screamed forward as a chill shook my body.
"I KNOW you can make it" Luis called back in his usual tone that always
makes a person feel like they really could accomplish feats too
impossible for any other human being.
I pushed forward using his confidence in me to overshadow my own life
long fear of water.
When I lost grip and footing on the algae covered smooth canyon walls I
took a very hard swim back another 40 feet with the swift moving
current. Aware that I was unable to fight the pressure I relaxed and let
my vest push me up, keeping my head on the surface, this a first show
today of confidence in myself and in my equipment. My kayak in reach, I
grabbed tight searching for a foothold. Another 5 feet later I was able to
stand with my head above water. Making my way back to the canyon
wall, I passed though the second time with an assist from Luis. This is
EXACTLY why you are not supposed to remove your life vest or go on
these adventures alone. There is no excitement in a drowned kayaker.
Luis helped me on to the only rock available in the tightening canyon.
Wet, cold and hungry, I sat holding my knees close to my chest. Luis
poured some black coffee and handed me a bag of dried pineapple
slices. The hot fluid flowed down my throat barely warming me. Luis
wrapped himself around me in an attempt to warm my chilled bones.
"Look at you, you've got chicken skin!" Luis laughed. I had to agree as
goose bumps covered my entire body.
Ahead was a new passage that looked significantly more difficult than
the previous three passes combined. The canyon walls were nearly
touching as the river had carved its way under in a tight tunnel of
crashing exploding water. Behind a large boulder we could see a large
and powerful spray of water shooting up.
"If I don't warm up, I, I, can't make it through the next pass," I stuttered.
"I'm going to be hypothermic."
"Nahhh," Luis said as he rubbed my arms a bit more briskly in order to
bring the heat out from me. But there was no heat to bring out. At this
point I could only be grateful for the heat coming from his body.
There was the passage of my dreams and also of my nightmares. The
impassable daring me to pass. Temptation beyond temptation. A
calling deep within my soul beckoning me forward. I tried to will my body
to produce the heat I would need to make the next pass. I didn't want to
waste the three hours we had already spent getting up here. I downed
more hot coffee.
Today I am disappointed in myself for not having achieved the ultimate
goal of matching the rivers challenge. I beat myself up all the way back.
Still, I am grateful for having the opportunity, grateful for having an
understanding kayaking partner, and grateful for being smart enough
not to attempt the passage beyond my limits, but I am also aware that
today's limitations become tomorrows achieved goals.
I have been afraid of water since I was a small child. Luis says I am not
afraid of the water, since I am continuously in it, but that I am just
respectful of it. I have always been powerfully drawn to the waters edge.
I race all alone into the sea in the blackness of midnight to wade only
knee deep with my whole chest pounding wildly. I paddle with pumped
up adrenaline in a difficult river yet panic when I have to put my face
under water in a back yard swimming pool. I take my kayak well past
recreational limits in the open seas, and feel my heart race. Perhaps
this is just the way it is between water and man.
Today I let the river keep her challenge. Tomorrow I will return to meet it.
~
Kayak Guajataka
the wetlands. Days of heavy rains gifted us opportunity to board our
kayaks between submerged trees in the tropical forest. We cut through
the water droplets that hung in a heavy mist over the still and quiet lake
on this cold autumn morning. The sun greeted us rising slowly over the
mountains to our east as we entered the open waters of the lake.
The lake is a chameleon from morning to night. Best opportunities for
kayaking come early as the placid waters turn choppy by the windy
afternoon, making the difference between a relaxing trip and a tough
workout. Heading up river this morning we had little current and no
wind to fight.
Egrets dominated the morning skies in the competitive search for an
early meal. One rather large specimen boasting a 4 foot blue green
hued wing span glided effortlessly over and then past us without
concern or notice of us. Paddling a quiet vessel provides viewing of
wildlife much closer than with a loud motorized boat.
I enjoy the clean feel of the cold spring feed water of our river and the
pressure of the water pounding against my muscles. Mother natures jet
tub. But the heavy rains of the past few days made the water just that
much stronger, that much colder, that much fiercer. The small canyon
river could have only been fuller if it had been raining while we were
kayaking. These are the days and times in which we are simultaneously
warned not to pass yet spiritually drawn to make the passage.
Luis was lead today, as we passed over bamboo that had been a
canopy high above our heads only weeks before. The waterfall and
cave we climbed up to, played in, and rested in became closer, yet less
inviting this day. We gave it a quick viewing and continued on. Today's
adventure was going to be about seeing just how far we could challenge
ourselves to pass.
One area that was impassable on our last visit was made passable by
the immense amount of water covering the difficult rocky drop off.
Grabbing a hold of the porous volcanic rock with small holes perfect for
fingers to slip deeply into allowed us to wade our way along the side of
tough areas in which current would have overtook paddler.
The areas that required waist deep portage around impassable
boulders or passage underneath the cold flowing water sent a chill deep
into me that I just couldn't shake. I wanted to be wearing a shorty wet
suit when Luis and I passed chest deep along a rock wall trying to get
good finger grip into the rock. Instead I wore the usually sufficient
spandex shorts and top. Whether it was the cold chill or a premonition; I
put my secured life vest back onto my body and tightened up the strap.
After managing a difficult pass Luis secured his kayak and his own
footing before called me forward.
"I don't think I can make it!" I screamed forward as a chill shook my body.
"I KNOW you can make it" Luis called back in his usual tone that always
makes a person feel like they really could accomplish feats too
impossible for any other human being.
I pushed forward using his confidence in me to overshadow my own life
long fear of water.
When I lost grip and footing on the algae covered smooth canyon walls I
took a very hard swim back another 40 feet with the swift moving
current. Aware that I was unable to fight the pressure I relaxed and let
my vest push me up, keeping my head on the surface, this a first show
today of confidence in myself and in my equipment. My kayak in reach, I
grabbed tight searching for a foothold. Another 5 feet later I was able to
stand with my head above water. Making my way back to the canyon
wall, I passed though the second time with an assist from Luis. This is
EXACTLY why you are not supposed to remove your life vest or go on
these adventures alone. There is no excitement in a drowned kayaker.
Luis helped me on to the only rock available in the tightening canyon.
Wet, cold and hungry, I sat holding my knees close to my chest. Luis
poured some black coffee and handed me a bag of dried pineapple
slices. The hot fluid flowed down my throat barely warming me. Luis
wrapped himself around me in an attempt to warm my chilled bones.
"Look at you, you've got chicken skin!" Luis laughed. I had to agree as
goose bumps covered my entire body.
Ahead was a new passage that looked significantly more difficult than
the previous three passes combined. The canyon walls were nearly
touching as the river had carved its way under in a tight tunnel of
crashing exploding water. Behind a large boulder we could see a large
and powerful spray of water shooting up.
"If I don't warm up, I, I, can't make it through the next pass," I stuttered.
"I'm going to be hypothermic."
"Nahhh," Luis said as he rubbed my arms a bit more briskly in order to
bring the heat out from me. But there was no heat to bring out. At this
point I could only be grateful for the heat coming from his body.
There was the passage of my dreams and also of my nightmares. The
impassable daring me to pass. Temptation beyond temptation. A
calling deep within my soul beckoning me forward. I tried to will my body
to produce the heat I would need to make the next pass. I didn't want to
waste the three hours we had already spent getting up here. I downed
more hot coffee.
Today I am disappointed in myself for not having achieved the ultimate
goal of matching the rivers challenge. I beat myself up all the way back.
Still, I am grateful for having the opportunity, grateful for having an
understanding kayaking partner, and grateful for being smart enough
not to attempt the passage beyond my limits, but I am also aware that
today's limitations become tomorrows achieved goals.
I have been afraid of water since I was a small child. Luis says I am not
afraid of the water, since I am continuously in it, but that I am just
respectful of it. I have always been powerfully drawn to the waters edge.
I race all alone into the sea in the blackness of midnight to wade only
knee deep with my whole chest pounding wildly. I paddle with pumped
up adrenaline in a difficult river yet panic when I have to put my face
under water in a back yard swimming pool. I take my kayak well past
recreational limits in the open seas, and feel my heart race. Perhaps
this is just the way it is between water and man.
Today I let the river keep her challenge. Tomorrow I will return to meet it.
~
Kayak Guajataka
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