Roy sent a link to see pictures of the Memorial Weekend trip:
Did anyone write a text report? I seem to have lost it.
Roy sent a link to see pictures of the Memorial Weekend trip:
Did anyone write a text report? I seem to have lost it.
Eight paddlers enjoyed a delightful 4th of July holiday weekend on the Klamath River. Don and Karen , plus Alan and Kate paired up in tandem canoes. Jan and Ruth soloed in canoes. John and Bob joined us in inflatable kayaks. We camped at Sarah Totten near Hamburg. The campground was in excellent shape with paths recently brushed out.
The weekend started with Don and Karen arriving Thursday evening to claim our favorite campsite. They explored the scenic byways on Friday, and found some extensive road damage up Beavertail Creek road from the wet winter. The campground went from empty on Thursday to full on Saturday. Bob arrived Friday night. Alan, Kate, Ruth and Jan arrived 9 AM Saturday morning in time to paddle the Brown Bear run. The flow out of Iron Gate Dam was the typical 1000 cfs. Side creeks added significant water so the flow at Seiad Valley was 1600 cfs. It is interesting to note that the flow out of Iron Gate increased after our trip. Brown Bear, class I (II) was straight forward. Bob tried the surf hole and swam. No one else was brave enough to try it. Bob and Jan went on after most participants took out at Blue Heron. Tom Martin rapid presented problems with a large hole on the left along the inside, a large haystack wave in the center and nasty eddies on the right. Bob got stuck in the eddy. Jan portaged. Saturday night, John joined us for Don’s taco salad dinner. It was delicious and a wise choice for a hot evening.
Sunday we rose to Don’s hashbrowns, ham and cheese creations. The night was warm under the trees but cooled off eventually. Some nights it stayed muggy all night. The bugs loved it and the bats showed up to feast on them. We learned to move out to an open spot after the sun went down. Between the bugs, hard paddling and late sunsets, we went to bed most nights before the first star appeared. Afternoons saw us downstream on a nice sandy beach with a recirculating eddy and shade. A bald eagle cruised the river by camp almost every day. The blue herons posed so magnificently on the rocks while the dragonflies danced across the river’s surface. Our favorite flying critter this year was a bright blue damselfly with white wings and bold black wing tips. A river otter was spotted above Schoolhouse on the final day.
For Sunday’s paddle, we braved Trees of Heaven class III- run. The put in was packed. Two large raft and IK groups put on at the same time. Everyone was courteous, and we even shared lunch spots. By the end, we intermingled, and then all took out together. Dutch Creek was easier than usual and could be run down the middle, which we found out at the bottom. Jan led everyone down the usual route, cutting right of the rocks at the bottom. This caused a few bobbles, but no swims. Bob showed us that the easier route went left of rightmost rock. Ruth as nightmares about Schoolhouse all year. She nailed it with a perfect line. Kate and Alan turned their canoe into a submarine, but stayed upright and self rescued. Don and Karen flipped. Beau immediately started swimming for shore and Karen went with him. Don and rescuers chased the tandem canoe down the river a ways before wrangling it to shore. Beau hitched a ride in Bob’s IK and looked quite happy. Karen jumped back in the river and bumped her way down over rocks. Honolulu caused problems on the bottom half. Jan was on her side for awhile, but managed to get upright. Many paddlers in the big groups went down the left side finishing with big smiles. The high flows from the wet winter cleared out the thick river weed above Schoolhouse. This year there was no need to pole the canoes through the plants clogging the river in the center of the flow. Sunday night, we ate Dutch oven dishes with Jan’s Tamale Pie and Ruth’s Strawberries in Chocolate cake.
Monday started with pancakes and sausage courtesy of Alan and Kate. We decided to do the class II Rocky Point run. Jan volunteered to paddle the Winona tandem with Kate, so Alan could solo in his Mohawk. Don and Karen led, despite it being a new run for them. Granite Point rapid, class II, swamped Kate and Jan in the high waves. They were so deep in the water that Yukon floated out of the canoe. Kate and Jan managed to keep the boat upright and self rescued. The best part of this run is a long, continuous class I/II rapid below the hwy 96 bridge. You keep picking your way between little rocks and waves for half a mile or so. It feels like a long, slow dance. We forgot to look for a lunch spot along the long curve away from the road. So we ate in a hot, steep, rock patch just before rejoining the road. The final rapid above Sluice Box is a bouncy, winding class II on the right with most of the water. None of us knows what the left side looks like. It is supposed to be harder.
Part of the group took out at Sluice Box. Jan grabbed her solo Prodigy canoe off the car and joined Bob and John for the Portuguese Creek run. The Portuguese Creek rapid, class III, was a first for everyone. We boat scouted it and ran it on the left no difficulty. The right side looked too low and presented an inconvenient rock at the bottom. The most recent memories of the run was Jan and Bob’s, who paddled below Portuguese Creek over a decade before. Scouting Savage Rapid was mandatory because it is rated class IV by Neil Ruckers. At our flow, it was a class III. It consisted of a wide rapid that narrows down at the end to drop over a ledge into a chaotic channel. Few landmarks make the upper part easy to get lost in. Bob led and picked the right spot to drop over the ledge. The water coming in laterally cancelled each other out and made for a relatively smooth ride over the reaction wave. The boily water below the ledge caused lots of spinning for those boats that tried to eddy out. This section of river between Upper Savage and Ft Goff Falls consists of gorgeously clear water flowing rapidly over channels in smooth grey rocks. It is beautiful and exhilarating. No scouting was done for Lower Savage because it usually looks intimidating, but is a straight shot on the right with a diagonal wave to deal with. Not this time. The higher flow changed this rapid significantly. Most of the water flowed over the ledge on the left. Jan started down the right and quickly went left due to the large eddy fence at the bottom that looked likely to be painful. She had no back-up plan and ended up with plan C down the middle. This plan went over the ledge, dodging rocks and going over tall waves. It looked like the least likely way to get hurt. It proved successful, even though John swam on the bottom wave. It was a fast rescue. Just around the corner waited Otter’s Playpen, quickly followed by Ft Goff Falls. Otter’s Playpen is a rock fence with several, narrow openings. The guide book says all openings are possible. The straight ahead routes looked bouncy. We followed the main current around to the right and through the usual chute second from the end. I still wonder how rafts run this rapid. At Ft. Goff Falls, the water pauses long enough to allow a move right to the lowest part of the fall. We took out at the primitive access called Tim’s with huge grins. Bob declared he finally felt alive. On the return drive, we scouted the left route at Lower Savage which looked easy. Alan and Kate cooked hamburgers, potato salad and strawberry shortcake for dessert. Yum!
Monday, Bob, Alan and Kate departed after Jan’s polenta and spam breakfast. The remaining four boats debated whether to paddle the class II Seattle Creek to Joe Morgan section. We call this the kids and dogs run due to its forgiving nature and beauty. We traditionally take out at China Point, but a large slide had closed the road to it. Continuing on to Gordon’s Ferry made it eleven miles and added a long right curve with class I rock dodging. After staring at each other for awhile, we decided we were tired and felt Brown Bear sounded fine. Jan had a silly swim trying to paddle a wave on her off side. Everyone took out at Blue Heron, which gives you an idea of how tired we were. We spent a leisurely afternoon enjoying the beach, water, shade and snacks. Jan cooked sausages, baked beans and peach dump cake for the 4th of July dinner. We heard no fireworks, and most importantly encountered no fires. The local Hot Shot team drove past at some point and we saw smoke. There was a report of a fire near Dutch Creek, but we never saw it.
Wednesday, Don provided oatmeal and granola. We broke camp. Don and Karen drove back via the Scott Valley. John, Jan and Ruth paddled the short version of Trees of Heaven from Skeahan Bar to Gottville. Ruth again nailed Schoolhouse and finished full of confidence solo paddling in her Flashback canoe. We went down the left side of Honolulu. The top requires negotiating a boulder garden with some waves. Once clear of the rocks, the bottom is a bouncy, straight shot. It was fun. John said it reminded him of the rocky, shallow rivers in New England.
This was one of the simplest, most enjoyable trips I have been on. The river and campground is perfect for canoes with enough nearby class I to III runs. The weather was hot, but not insufferable, and made swimming inviting. The company helped each other and enjoyed each other. All of the most experienced paddlers swam, usually laughing, while the other paddlers learned a lot and stayed upright. Ruth stayed dry and gained tremendous confidence. Best of all, for me at least, was the lack of forest fires requiring sudden changes in plans. Thanks to all who came and helped to make the trip so fun!
NAVARRO RIVER Trip Report
March 18-19, 2017
By Karen J.
Imagine soft misty-blue water with sediment still settling, the plonk-plink of dripping foliage, the rich green of happy moss, the damp cool clean air, a beautiful gravel bar, and a 16-foot class 3 scramble from parked vehicles to get down to river-level. The Hendy Woods Bridge put-in. We normally put in at the day use area inside the park, but it was closed; not just gated-closed, but impassible-closed. The recent storms/floods caused damage that has not been repaired. It would have been a long, long carry. The bridge was bad, but better.
The intrepid but crazy group of 7 people with three boats met at 10:00 AM. When Don and Karen arrived (early), Kate and Alan already had their boat and most of their gear down at the water, as did Eric , girlfriend Julie, and son Arvid. Once all gear was loaded and the car-shuttle to Dimmick campground completed, we set off.
The river was running a little under 400 cfs; the weather prediction was 50% chance of rain Saturday afternoon and Sunday. Skies felt grey and watchful, giving that eerie sensation a downpour was imminent. However, the temperature was mild. I love paddling in the rain; hearing the drops rustle in the foliage and plop onto the water surface, watching drip-rings spread, and feeling a sense of joy that exists nowhere else. But keep in mind a 50% chance of rain predicts that 50% of the forecast area would receive measurable precipitation. Rain may have fallen elsewhere in the area, but all we got the entire weekend was about 60 droplets each. It felt like rain, but none materialized.
The Navarro this year is a new river. The good news is last year’s downed trees are gone, cleared out by earlier high water. The bad news is there are lots of creatively-placed new downed trees for your boating pleasure, and the channels, such as they are, are much more intricately arranged. The tree-and-brush lined but relatively entrenched channels are gone; the new channels often cut through the well-grown willows that lined the old channels. Channel-finding was difficult in places. We went over, under and around channel-blocking tree trunks. We bushwhacked with boats, dragging through dense heavy willow-stems that did NOT want to bend. We maneuvered around very tight turns while the current shoved us toward strainers, rocks, logs, and undercut banks. Progress was slow and channels, if they existed at all, were narrow. One interesting obstacle was a narrow spot with a ninety-degree turn and a log laying diagonally above the top part of the bend and sinking mid-channel into the lower part of the bend. The current wanted boats to be pushed under the log (minimal clearance) and trapped in debris on the far side. It was possible with clean entry, good angle and bow-paddler muscle to skirt the log to the inside. Unfortunately, Kate and Alan weren’t set up properly and washed under the log still upright, then got caught on the far side. They discussed the situation briefly, then with some struggle pried themselves off the obstruction and floated downstream where they eddied out. It was a nasty spot; both kept their heads, kept their balance, and kept working until they escaped. Kate was shaking, but never lost it. We were impressed.
Eric’s girlfriend Julie is great. She’s not an experienced paddler, but she’s strong, willing, and upbeat. Eric needed her help to navigate the tight channels, not to mention the non-channels. Arvid, a third-grader now, took turns with Julie paddling bow. Arvid was also the group’s motivated campfire-maker in camp, which turned out to be rather important to some other boaters.
Our usual sandy camping ground was washed out; we didn’t want to set up tents on large cobbles. Since the bulk of the sand along the Navarro has evidently left for the sea, we searched for somewhere with, hopefully, gravel or smaller rocks. Don found a nice spot just downstream on the left, with an overhanging tree branch perfect for the kitchen tarp, flat areas, and a ground surface reminiscent of concrete with small rocks jutting out. We set up camp, ate a Don-cooked dinner of rice and chicken curry, then sat by the fire watching the river and drinking wine, tea or hot chocolate as the light faded. Chocolate and cookies to finish off the meal. It was wonderful.
As we watched, and the grey deepened into night, two solo sit-on-top kayakers, man and woman, came around the bend and pulled up at the beach.
The man, Matt, asked “How far is it before we hit civilization?”
Don: “There is no civilization along the rest of this river.”
Matt: “Anywhere we can get to the road?”
Don: “The nearest take-out is nine miles.”
The woman, also named Karen, sat in her kayak gazing at the fire with intense and wistful longing. (This could get confusing. From here on, the kayaker-Karen will be referred to as Karen, the other will be called Karen J.)
Matt: “How far is it to the coast? We have a car staged at the coast.”
Don: “Seventeen miles.”
Karen sat in her kayak gazing at the fire. Craving the fire.
Matt: “Well, then we’ll paddle out to the nearest take-out and spend the night there, then I’ll paddle the rest of the way to the coast tomorrow.”
We all sat there thinking they were going to die.
Matt and Karen had started in Booneville that morning, and planned to reach the coast by dark. They had no idea what they were getting into and were completely unprepared. No extra clothing, no lifejackets. They had water and one flashlight and no dry clothes. It was a surprisingly mild night, but with the cloud cover it was black dark; navigation on the river would be difficult and dangerous. Rain was forecast.
Kate spoke up. “You can’t go. It’s not safe. You need to say with us tonight.” Kate kept insisting they stay. The rest of us joined her. Not that we had any idea how we could manage, but anything was better than that black river.
Karen, still sitting in her kayak, spoke quietly to Matt. “You’re not going to make me leave, are you?”
They climbed out of their boats and up to the fire. Both were soaking wet. Karen was wearing a dripping cotton sweatshirt and shivering. Karen Jarrell’s mommy-nature instantly kicked in; she dragged Karen behind the tent and got her into all of Karen J.’s spare clothes; Karen J. even sacrificed her down jacket. Julie donated socks and Teva’s. Meanwhile, Eric had outfitted Matt with dry clothing. The next order of business was food. There was no dinner left other than dessert sweets, but Kate and Allen brought out their yummy good cookies, and others contributed lunch leftovers; Matt and Karen had a decent if strange dinner, then joined us at the fire with hot cocoa.
At bedtime, The Jarrells donated their tatami mats and a pillow to the Matt-and-Karen cause, Kate and Alan contributed two blankets, and Eric et al contributed their tent footprint as a groundcloth and a completely-zipped-open down sleeping bag. Amazing what we came up with. Then off we went to bed.
The following morning, Matt and Karen were necessarily up early, since we’d built their bed under the kitchen tarp in case of rain. Breakfast was hot oatmeal with nuts and fruit, and lots of hot coffee and hot chocolate. Hot is so wonderful on a cool morning. (Brief pause while the author recalls that first sip of sweet hot coffee and how luxurious it feels going down the throat.)
As we were packing, Matt and Karen tried to return the borrowed clothing. Since NOTHING they owned was even remotely dry and much of it was dripping and covered with sand, this effort was refused. As a matter of fact, Karen acquired a waterproof shell and rain pants when Karen J. changed into her dry suit. Karen J. can be quite insistent, even pushy at times, and wasn’t taking no for an answer.
The second day, our group of now 5 boats headed downstream. We asked… well actually, Karen J. demanded… that Matt and Karen follow the lead boat, paying attention to both boat placement and angle when entering drops or tight turns. They were perfect. Part way down, Karen was heard laughing with joy – “It’s so beautiful here, I love this!”
Our most interesting obstacle the second day was a cluster of three freshly-fallen redwoods blocking the twelve-foot channel, the bottom edge of the upstream tree sitting barely under the waterline. No good way around to the left; heavy brush and a steep bank with nowhere to stand. No way around to the right; tree-roots and a vertical bank blocked the way. Fortunately, there was little current on the right edge of the channel, so Don and Karen J. leaned their canoe gunnel against the three-foot diameter log and scrambled up and over. On the far side of the first log, the two smaller logs formed a lovely, stable dock just above water level. The Jarrells dragged their fully-loaded boat over the logs and back into the water; Karen J. tied it up while Don steadied Matt’s boat. Matt and Don pulled boats over while Karen J. helped the paddlers. People clamber out, boat is pulled over and steadied in the water, people climb back in and paddle to the nearby gravel bar. Easy. But don’t think this was the only obstacle; it’s just there were so many. And we were getting better at them.
The Dimmick take-out still had the nasty bank, but was much easier overall than in prior years. The high water on the North Fork of the Navarro, which joins the main Navarro just upstream of Dimmick campground, deposited a nice gravel bar at the take-out, so all boats could beach and unload easily. There was a downed tree at the top of the bank, but it was easy to go around. Everyone, including our guests, carried boats and schlepped gear.
Then hiked out to the road, around the ‘Campsite Closed’ barrier, and into cars to run a double car shuttle. Matt and Karen J. took Don’s Highlander to the coast so Matt could bring back his truck. Eric took Alan back to the put-in and retrieved Alan’s car. Everyone else prepared boats for transport and loaded gear. Matt and Karen J. were the first back; Matt jumped out to shift the barrier aside that partially blocked the entrance, whereapon the barrier collapsed into 3 or4 pieces. It had been propped together like a house of cards and was now laying in the middle of the road completely flattened. Matt moved the rightmost piece or two so the cars could get in. And on to loading.
During the high water of a few weeks ago, the North Fork of the Navarro had obviously swept enthusiastically through the campground. Karen J. headed for the nearest bathroom, though Don said it was likely locked. Karen J. still doesn’t know if the door was locked or not; the debris pile in front of the door prevented her from ever reaching it. She instead used a sunlit green clearing amidst soft leaf litter and the delicate, gleaming new leaves of poison oak.
Our unexpected guests Matt and Karen were awesome the entire time they were with us. They jumped right into the group, never whined, helped with everything, fun to be around. They’re strong, bright, articulate, and full of life. GREAT people. Arvid is likely to miss Matt; they had fun together. Karen J. already misses Karen; she felt like a friend. All of us hope they’ll paddle with us on other trips and bring their friends.
Many thanks to Don Jarrell for planning the trip, packing all the equipment, buying the food, preparing the meals, and leading on the river. Don, you are totally awesome. (OK, I’m biased, I’m his wife, but he’s still totally awesome.)
I feel sorry for all of you who didn’t make this trip. I’ve never been as proud to be a part of this group as I was this weekend. The culture of caring, supportiveness, happiness and adventure is so special. There was enough adventure and misery-quotient to make a memorable trip. And Lord, it’s so beautiful out on the water, even when we share it with brush thickets and downed trees.
Hope to see you on the river soon!
February 5, 2017: Austin Creek — Cazadero to Russian River confluence
7 Participants: Alan , Kate , David , Eileen , Patrick , Joan , Chris .
Austin Creek is a stretch of class 1 1/2 water which is completely dependent on rainfall that flows through a forest of Redwood trees and rustic homes along Cazadero Highway. Due to winter storms in the region, it was decided to forego the planned Russian River paddle above Healdsburg. We met at the Old Duncans Mills Grade steel bridge site over Austin Creek on a chilly, overcast Sunday morning. After scouting possible options, a decision was made to take out at Cassini Ranch, largely because it did not require a machete or a trek through poison oak. The small but intrepid group, in three canoes and two kayaks, agreed to launch at the Fire Station in Cazadero and paddle Austin Creek to land at Cassini Ranch, across from the confluence of the Russian River, approximately six river miles. There was plenty of water coming under the bridge – about 1,000 cfs. We launched on Austin Creek at 11:00 a.m. The run was through a magnificent forest of giant Redwood Trees. We encountered islands of brush and some rapids, one which required scouting from shore with a passage on the right-side. The group stopped for lunch at the confluence with the East Fork of Austin Creek. Two more more challenging sections were encountered after the lunch stop requiring maneuvering skill–narrow passages between brush with no scouting from shore required, and also one downed tree which was passed without incident on the right. At one point, Alan’s rain hat abandoned ship, but Eileen Nolan, seeing something floating in the water, recovered it. In a light, drizzling rain, the group reached the confluence at the Russian River, which was swollen to at least 100 yards wide. The brave little band ferried across to Cassini Ranch Beach and reached shore at 2:50 p.m. Upon beginning the ferry to the beach across the Russian River, Dave was overheard saying, “You just did something that very few people have done”.
At the recent POST holiday party it was suggested that we need some kind of manual for potential trip leaders. I have tons of material that I could share but my big problem is that I get terribly bogged down in minutiae. I can publish details on how to brush your teeth on a wilderness canoe trip! What I desperately need is someone who can take all the material I have been writing up over the years and convert it into a short 1-2 page checklist for trip leaders. Maybe with subsets of how to pack and set up the kitchen, or river leader responsibilities, or groover use and maintenance.
I see too many details and no one really needs them all.
I somehow managed to forget to post Alan L’s trip reports. They went out to the Club on the elist but for more permanent offerings I am now posting them to the website:
By Eric R.
10/17/15 Turlock Lake Campground
The cheerful music of Alan’s concertina carries easily through the screened window of my camper. The campfire where he plays illuminates his and another paddlers face: a glowing conclusion to a lovely day on the Tuolumne River that we canoed from the old La Grange bridge to this campground.
Here Bob and Joan prepared our dinner. As part of their 5 star service Joan delivered the plates of pulled porkwiches, potato salad and beans to each diner. We helped ourselves to the three bottles of wine. Without help, Kit and I emptied a porter and most of a Newcastle Brown Ale. Joan also delivered dessert – rich, gooey brownies she’d made, and, just in case those didn’t yield enough endorphins, a package of Costco cookies, chocolate chip.
During the meal most of us, including surprise arrivals Charlie and Kit, talked about the events of the day, as well as various occurrences during the late Middle Ages. They happened near rivers.
One person worked through dinner. Treasurer Jan Lockie, who would otherwise have to deal with it once she gets home, wisely chose to figure out what each participant owed and collect it between bites.
“It’s all done!” she exclaimed with a smile about the time Alan started playing and Kate built and started the fire.
“I’ve always been a firebug.” Kate confessed with a grin.
Alice gave the day’s paddling a touch of class by rakishly sporting a wide-brimmed black felt hat. Bob reminded us of the season with a plastic jack-o-lantern affixed to the prow of his canoe.
“What’s in it” I asked.
“Candy.” he replied.
Ever energetic Vince asked late in the day if he could paddle my XL13. I instantly said yes. At that point I was tired with trying to keep the little Mohawk in a straight, speedy line. Vince and Shauna were sweep and I’d spent much of the afternoon being dust. It was a relief to get in the bow of their boat and just paddle, needing no j-strokes or prys to stay on course. Shauna easily aimed us into every Y and avoided all rocks.
The lovely and mostly serene day was enlivened by, new to POST, but experienced sea-paddler, Katarina. She’d been encouraged not to bother getting a river boat, so she brought her very long, keeled, bright yellow, tippy sea-kayak. By the end of the trip she was dreaming of going down river in Alice’s short, but very stable bathtub shaped Kopapa.
Bob got out of his boat to pull Katarina’s boat free of one traffic jam, and Joan gave her company and coaching most of the way. And she showed great spunk, emerging from her inevitable spills with smiles and good cheer. Instead of complaining, she continued to express delight and gratitude for being on this lovely river, seeing the Osprey and noble Great Blue Herons and being with us.
Katarina’s third tip didn’t change her attitude, but it did take most of her breath away. She found herself upside down and couldn’t get the spray skirt to quickly release.
All her travails persuaded the rest of us that Katarina’s got what POST requires: an ability to laugh when wet, hurt and embarrassed. Repeatedly. And she brought two bottles of wine.
10/18/15 Looking back
Today the sun came up early – no overcast. We left camp early, but somehow got divided. Most went right on Lake Rd. That was right. Some, though, went left. That was not right.
All managed to get to Knights Ferry and most elected to paddle upstream past the old covered bridge and warm up in the wave trains. No surprise that Vince and Shauna deftly moved from one to another, enjoying apparently leisurely stays mid roiling water. Not expected by some of us was Jim’s ease at doing the same thing. Our appreciation increased as word got round that Jim is 82. Evidently paddling is healthy.
Also riding those waves were Kate and Alan. Had you noticed what good paddlers they’ve become?
There were some changes at Russian Rapid. Proving that she also has sense, Katarina chose to walk the left side path, totally dry this year. Kit and Charlie used the same route to rejoin us for lunch, which Bob and Joan served on the river left beach. Continuing their “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it.” service, they forced nobody to fix sandwiches between bites of breakfast, but brought lunch to the beach. We gladly took their tasty wraps and ate them. Thank you Bob and Joan.
There was some mystery in the woods between the river and that left side path. Always enthusiastic, Vince and Dave set off up that way carrying the big red Legend, I think it was. After awhile voices were heard to wonder where these men were. We of course expected to see them come splashing any minute through the waves to have lunch. But many minutes passed, and wraps were eaten. Eventually they did re-emerge, out of the brush, not the river. Something was said about the impenetrable berry vines. It’s not just the bears that can get you in these riparian thickets.
After we left the rapids, we found some others adequate to excite us, and in time there were a lot of musical boats. Early on David and Peter traded with Shauna and Vince to try out the for sale Legend. After Katarina’s second Sunday swim, Karen asked if she’d like to paddle with Don. “Yes!” she replied with maybe even more than her usual gratitude. For her to become Don’s bow paddler, and student, Karen partnered with Shauna, Vince got to paddle my Mohawk again, and I got into the tippy sea-kayak. Not wanting to become breathless, I didn’t fasten the skirt.
Soon Bob led us ashore at Horseshoe Bend, Upper Horseshoe Bend it was. After we all stretched and snacked, as suggested by Bob, we got back into our boats and paddled for a full 8 to 10 minutes to Lower Horseshoe Bend, where Bob again bade us come ashore. Sure enough, nobody felt the need to stretch or snack. We were all ready to put boats atop quickly shuttled vehicles, and clear out, after promising to meet on December 12 for the POST party. Let’s.