I AM retarded

Not sure if you can see the bloody finger....but pay attention to the background



Nice tree by the trail



Benches are good



Doesn't it look pleasant?

Alright...aren't you wondering why I said I am retarded?

Yea.

See the photo at top, and look in the background. I paddled there last Saturday. I paddled there on calm waters. Once I got to the middle of the lake, it got a little squirrley, but not too bad. I made it to the resort.

By this time, two hours had gone by (and using my GIS talents, I found out it was about 2 miles as the crow flies.) I was VERY tired. My abs and my lower back were done, my arms were alright...but not 100% by any means.

OK. Here begins the trouble.

I nearly cut a hole in the side of a yurt because I KNEW it would be hell to go home. But, being me, I was too honest and too proud. This whole story hurts because I don't want to tell it. I don't want to tell it because it just proves to everyone that I am dumber than my mom wants me to be.

I got back in my three-keeled canoe and started paddling home. It was late by this time, and it got dark on me in a hurry. (Meaning it was after even the last remnants of sundown...so NO light...but clear skies and the possibility of a moon later.) I KNEW the wind was up. I KNEW I would hit chop in the middle of the lake. So, I paddled up the the east in the shelter of a peninsula, then cut out for the north shore. BAD IDEA. I should have gone SOUTH and paddled quartering home. I ended up going many more miles than I wanted, just to keep from capsizing in the waves. The wind was blowing, the waves were building, and I was nearly panicking. I stayed strong, however, and focused on the waves and the canoe...trying desperately to keep my course. Ugly.

Ugly.

There was one point maybe about 1/2 mile from the close shore and 1.5 miles from the opposite shore, where I damn near lost it. I do have some kayak training and I will applaud Isaac, Chris, and Jake for that...I did a nifty little outboard side-paddle to keep from tipping. Essentially paddling toward the boat to keep from rolling. I managed to throw my hips back INTO the boat and right it. But I was SCARED. Losing yourself in waters like that...I'd have been done within three minutes. I had the life jacket. I had the clothes. I had a lightstick for crying out loud! But, the lightstick was in the pack. The life jacket was under my ass as a cushion. I was wearing the clothes.

I turned directly into the waves and prayed.

Then I paddled like my life depended on it, which it seriously did. I quartered into the wind...which pushed me back...and back and back. I made NO progress in one hour of paddling. So, by this time...I'm looking at at least three hours of strong paddling. My abs and lower back simply gave out. On every third backstroke, I fell back into a supporting arm of the canoe. (I have the bruise to prove it.) I'd lay there and recover, than sit up and resume my effort.

Waves breaking. Wind blowing. Ice building on the side of the boat (I felt it a couple of times when my paddle hand hit it.) I switched paddles because the one I was using was getting too heavy for my feeble arms...soaking up too much water. (I need to finish those again.) I nearly pulled out my phone and called 911 to rescue my sorry ass. I sat there, rocking in the cold, and thought about the forlorn call for help. Then I thought, "well, I could drift and maybe hit Tubbs hill....beach the boat...walk home."

For some reason, giving up that easy is not in my bones. Again, I'm entirely too proud.

OK. Now I must say, even writing this I am amazed by my audacity. I nearly freaking DIED and I was thinking about saving face! Not sure if 911 would have been able to do anything; but COME ON! No one knew where I was. I was in a huge lake with no support. It's MARCH.

I'm retarded.

I overestimated my abilities and didn't count on severe downslope winds making the waves they did.

However.

I paddled my ass off. My hip-flexors, abs, and lower back were simply gone. I'd paddle for a bit and collapse backwards. Roll in the waves a bit, then sit up and right myself again...quartering into the wind. Paddle and collapse. Repeat for two more hours.

I MADE IT TO SHORE.

I made it to shore about 1/2 mile from "my" dock. Paddling slowly back down there, I thought of the stupid shit I had just done.

I still can't get that out of my mind. I nearly went over, in water that was freezing onto the side of my canoe, roughly one mile out. But shoot, I guess the stars WERE pretty that night.

I got to the dock, couldn't stand up. My core muscles wouldn't let me. I beached the boat and left it sit there until the next day. "TAKE the m*therf*cker!" I thought.

I stumbled and fumbled up the the house and slept for many many hours.

Again:

I AM RETARDED.

I then became scared of canoeing in CDA lake. Tonight I forced myself out onto it again. Planning to hug the shore and just LEARN. Well, the wind was up and it was much less than it was the other night. It shoved me like you wouldn't believe! I am simply amazed that I was able to make it back to this shore in less wind than I experienced that night. Consequently, I went about 300 yards, turned, hugged the shore, and drug the boat back to it's place.

A guy actually pulled over and offered to help me pull it across the road. I felt pretty happy with humanity at that point, but declined the help. "I do this all the time."

Again...entirely too proud for my own damn good.