CANOE MORNING

Thus the Birch Canoe was builded

In the valley, by the river,

In the bosom of the forest;

And the forest's life was in it,

All its mystery and its magic,

All the lightness of the birch-tree,

All the toughness of the cedar,

All the larch's supple sinews;

And it floated on the river

Like a yellow leaf in Autumn,

Like a yellow water-lily.

  Paddles none had Hiawatha,

Paddles none he had or needed,

For his thoughts as paddles served him,

And his wishes served to guide him;

Swift or slow at will he glided.

---  from the Song of Hiawatha by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

It was another quiet early weekend morning on the lake that I have come to look forward too. Just turning my truck into the park and driving with the windows down along the lake's conifer wooded shoreline as giving me a feeling of jubilation as the earthy scent of pine delights my scent of smell. It's the perfume of the forest. So sharp, so sweet, and ever so refreshing as anyone who has taken a therapeutic walk in the woods will tell you.

Arriving at the boathouse and to access I gazed down the path to the water below. The lake glistened a golden glow in the bright morning sun silhouetted by the rising row of pines. Where there were ripples on its surface there are brief flashes of diamonds. I inhale the view of tranquility taking in both its sight and sound. It's time to reset my body, mind, and soul because my rush to the lake is over.

I'm not the first, nor will I be last to find that elation about the beauty of water the forest. A nineteen century Wesleyan Missionary in Northern Canada Egerton Ryerson Young called it one of those sights that seldom comes to us in a life, where everything is in perfect unison.

"I was entranced by the loveliness of the sight," Young wrote in his book By Canoe and Dog-Train Among the Cree and Saulteaux Indians, "The reflections of the canoe and men and of the island and rocks were vivid as the actual realities. So clear and transparent was the water that where it met the air, there seemed to be only a narrow thread between the two elements. Not a breath of air stirred, not a ripple move."

The upper lake part of Lake Jenkinson is much narrower and quieter then its larger sister lake nestled in the picturesque setting of Sly Park near Pollock Pines, California. Divided by a narrow channel, the larger rounded lower lake is home to the speedboats, picnic, and campgrounds and swimming beach while the upper part features a path to a waterfall, two nesting eagles and in the morning when the lake is still, a place to canoe.

Where do we come from and where are we going?" wrote filmmaker and canoe guru Bill Mason, "There is no better place and no better way to follow this quest into the realm of spirit than along the lakes and rivers of the North American wilderness in a canoe.”

Pushing away from the dock at the boathouse, the Old Town canoe is transformed into a time machine with each quiet stroke of my wooden paddle as it takes me back to the way it used to be.  My morning solo paddles are a reflective time as I ponder the water, the trees, and the sky. In a way, it's sad that so many sleepy campers just up the way, miss this time on the water.

The calming emerald green waters design what looks like a moving painting as it ripples and shimmers and reflects on its fluid canvas. The gentle sound of my paddle dips and singing birds create a soothing magic of serenity. But then again, I have had a few mornings when a hurried fishing boat passes by with its droning engine desecrating the morning's tranquility and sanctuary. At this time of the morning, the only way to honor the lake and its transparent placid flat waters is by canoe with only a paddle.

“The movement of a canoe is like a reed in the wind," wrote canoeist and naturalist, Sigurd Olson, "Silence is part of it, and the sounds of lapping water, bird songs, and wind in the trees. It is part of the medium through which it floats, the sky, the water, the shores."

Sweeping my paddle, I glide among the ducks and geese at the little bay across from the boathouse. Below, I can look down into its crystal depths and see a few fish darting away from the movement of the canoe. If I'm lucky, one of the neighboring eagles will fly over while fishing the lake from above. I can't really go much further, nor do I really want too.

I find solace in the just floating idly in the little bay watching and listening to the creation about me. As writer John Graves pointed out, "Canoes, too, are unobtrusive; they don't storm the natural world or ride over it, but drift in upon it as a part of its own silence. As you either care about what the land is or not, so do you like or dislike quiet things. . . . Chances for being quiet nowadays are limited.”

Of course, the time is fleeting on the water. As the sun comes up, the park wakes up, as folks seek the relief of the lake's cool waters to escape the summer's blistering heat. I take a few more sips of my coffee before I make one big giant turning stroke back to the dock.


If you want to go on a canoe or kayak trip at Sly Park contact:
Current Adventures Kayak School and Trips 
PHONE: 530-333-9115 or Toll-Free: 888-452-9254
FAX: 530-333-1291
USPS: Current Adventures, P.O. Box 828, Lotus, CA 95651
info@currentadventures.com
owner Dan Crandall dan@kayaking.com

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