RETURN TO THE LAKE

I returned to the lake last weekend. Coming back to the quiet waters of Lake Jenkinson and Sly Park Recreation Area that's nestled in the western foothills of the Sierra, near Pollock Pines, California. The past several summers, I have spent almost every weekend working the Sly Park Paddle Rentals boathouse, renting out kayaks, canoes, and paddleboards to anyone wanting to paddle the lake. Driving down the park road and seeing the water shimmering through the trees, I felt like I had arrived back home. It had been a long time coming. My season was abruptly cut short last summer after I was unceremoniously tossed off the lake as the Calder fire raged nearby. 

I had come back a couple times. Late in the fall, I came to gather up all the gear I had left behind. Even then, the walk down to the lake to sweep away the ash from inside the boathouse was a long one. It had been a dry year from the beginning. All season, I watched the lake levels drop, exposing the lakebed and tree stumps. The wildfire only exacerbated the already parched season. The Calder Fire reported on August 14th went scorched some 221,835 acres, but luckily only singed Sly Park borders. 

When my wife Debbie and I visited the lake for a mid-winter hike along the snow-covered lakeshore, we were happy to see the lake was still low. But on the rise. We were optimistic that winter storms would yield much-needed moisture into the lake. 

This past weekend, the lake was up. According to the sign at the front gate was up to 81%. Not quite full, but a far cry better than the last time I visited. Now the lake glistened an emerald green. The boathouse had been lifted from the depths of the lake. The long pathway down to its gangplank was only a memory. Looking into the clear water below it, I could make out a few of the rocks I had placed to mark the trail where the sidewalk had ended. 

The canoes that Current Adventures Dan Crandall had brought up lay half-sunken under the boathouse dock. A heavy rain a few weeks ago indicated how much rain had fallen. The four canoes served as large rain gauges. They would require a bit of bailing if my group from Bayside Adventure Sports were to be using them that evening for a sunset paddle. 

Paddlers often debate the perfect time of the day to paddle. Some say it's best in the morning mist. When the lake is still quiet. And the fishing boats have yet to arrive. On Lake Jenkinson there is a 90-minute window in the early morning when the lake is calm and before the winds start to blow through the narrows. The afternoon fetch is always troublesome to paddlers when paddling against it. Others might prefer to sleep in and wait for sunset when the pines cast shadows across the lake and the western sky is ablaze. There may be a sunset every day but being on Lake Jenkinson in a canoe at twilight while watching the sun slowly sink down into the pines is a special experience no matter how many times, I've taken it in.  

"I was entranced by the loveliness of the sight," Egerton Ryerson Young, a Canadian missionary and author wrote in his biographical tale, By Canoe and Dog Train Among the Cree Ad Salteaux, "The reflections of the canoe and men and of the islands and rocks were as 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 moved. It was one of those sights, which seldom comes to us in a lifetime, where everything is in perfect unison."

After spending two days camping with my group, I can truly, say I can't wait for more. I look forward to opening up the boathouse for the season and all the summer days at home on the lake.

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

Keep up with Outside Adventure to the Max, on our Facebook page and Instagram and now on Youtube.

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 than its larger sister lake nestled in the picturesque setting of Sly Park near Pollock Pines, California. Divided by a narrow channel, the larger the 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 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
Or book online at currentadventures.com

Keep up with Outside Adventure to the Max, on our Facebook page and Instagram and now on Youtube.

This article was originally published in Outside Adventure to the Max on July 26, 2019.

 

 

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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