Hemlock Lake

I found myself pointing the car towards Hemlock. I opened the sun roof and the red reflected glow of the seventeen foot fiberglass kayak fell into the car. The ends of the two blue nylon straps that held the kayak to the roof rack flapped against the car in an odd syncopation bordering on the conga drums in Santana’s “Oye Como Va”.

It took an hour of winding past farms, lakes and rolling hills to get to the lake. When I arrived at the North Landing, I found myself rumbling down two ruts that passed for a road to the launch. The place was totally deserted. I pulled to a stop and hopped out looking down the lake. The water was flat and still and quiet as could be. I hoisted the kayak onto my shoulder and carried it down the mix of stone and mud, gently resting most of the seventeen feet in the water.

Gliding out into the shallows was an experiment in silent elation. The red bow cut through the water with ease, as the lake weeds gently brushed the hull. It felt good to dip the black carbon paddle blades into the water and pull. Swinging the paddle forward, individual droplets of water fell in ringlets into the mirrored sky.

Comments

[Lene]

Do you have open water? I'm looking forward to a day with the paddle soon, but it's not quite time yet.

[Dave]

Hi Lene,

Yes indeed we do have open water but this post is an excerpt of an essay I am writing on a kayak day-trip I took this past october.

I have not been in the water yet. Still too cold. Though, last night it was in the 50's here and today as well. But in 3 days it will be winter again.

[the dharma bum]

Oh, man Dave! You really got me longing to dip a paddle. What a very nice essay. I'm so glad spring is coming on...

[Dave]

It actually feels springlike today. I had no jacket. In the 50s. In the morning I will go for a hike I think. The weather goes bad again on sunday.

[Lene]

My first day on the water last year was April 11. It was chilly. We'll see what this April brings. :)