OVER THE BOW: LAKE NATOMA

 A very great vision is needed, and the man who has it must follow it as the eagle seeks the deepest blue of the sky.  ---Crazy Horse

It was an unseasonably warm fall day last month when my wife Debbie and I were paddling on Lake Natoma. On the north shore, we came along the pair of bald eagles sitting in the trees above. I reveled with exhilaration as I watched them loom over the lake, taking in the sights and sounds of everything below them. Then lifting their wings, one after another, they took to the sky, passing overhead on a low flyover to my elation.

"You certainly get excited about seeing eagles," Debbie said, "Didn't you see a lot back in Minnesota?"

I thought about that while floating along as I watched the eagles disappear from sight. During most of my life, I went without seeing bald eagles anywhere. The bald eagle population crashed in the 1950s and 1960s through the use of DDT pesticides. It was determined that DDT and its residues were poisoning bald eagles, causing eggshell thinning that resulting in many failed nesting attempts for the raptors. By the late 1960s and early 1970s, the bald eagle was listed as an endangered species. According to the American Bird Conservancy, in 1963, when the species was at its lowest ebb, there were only an estimated 417 breeding pairs of bald eagles in the lower 48 states.

But with improved environmental stewardship and federal protection, our national bird has made rebounded across the United States. This includes the growing population in California. According to the California Department of Fish & Wildlife, bald eagles can be found in 41 of the state's 58 counties, mostly at lakes, reservoirs, rivers, and some rangelands and coastal wetlands.
 

So yes, with the magnificent bird's comeback, it has allowed more people to get a glimpse of one more often so, it might not be considered unusual like before. But it still does not take away my excitement of seeing one. To Native Americans, the bald eagle serves as a messenger between humans and the Creator. While in the Judeo-Christian faith, the eagle soaring to many offers a theological perspective of restoration, reliance, and hope. The prophet Isaiah wrote, "But those who wait on the Lord will find new strength. They will fly high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint."

I think to see one a majestic raptor usually relates to good vibes of positivity and excitement for just about anyone. Like John Denver, sang in his hit song Rocky Mountain "I know he'd be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly," we all become a bit richer when we see these creatures.

A few days later, I was a leading group of paddlers across the Northern California lake when I caught a glimpse of the whitetail and the white head of one of the bald eagles. A pair of bald eagles have successfully nested along the bluffs of Lake Natoma since 2017.
Their nesting site is a popular area to viewing from a kayak where boaters can see the bird sitting high above. But that night, I had the good fortune to observe the bird near the water level. It was perch in a low hanging tree along the bank.

As I slowly tried to creep forward in the water, I witnessed a double treat of nature. A beaver swam below the fallen tree. While the eagle might not have been concerned about my presence, but the highly territorial beaver was. The beaver slapped its tail against the water with a loud smack and splash. It was a warning to other beavers, but also to the eagle about my proximity to them both.
It took the flight back to its lofty roost on the bluff, flying over my small group of thrilled paddlers.
I paddled away just a richer for the experience of having nature in my own backyard.

The Friends of Lakes Folsom and Natoma, a volunteer group that works in conjunction with State Parks to educate visitors about the eagle and their nesting site. If you would like to learn more about the eagles, check out their brochure New Friends of Lakes Folsom and Natoma Bald Eagle brochure.

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ON THE EVE OF 60

                   Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. ---Helen Keller

Back in the 1970s, John Denver recorded his hit record celebrating the Colorado Rockies Mountain called Rocky Mountain High. It was seemly an autobiographical song about one finding one's self in their own special place, they're own Eden that they have been called too and now call home. The opening verse I really like goes like this.

He was born in the summer of his 27th year
Coming home to a place he'd never been before
He left yesterday behind him, you might say he was born again
You might say he found a key for every door...

The genesis inquiry. It's a question I'm most often asked. When did you start paddling? Or it's sometimes asked this way. What made you start paddling?
My answer is usually trite. Something like it's been a while now or I don't know I just started and fell in love with the sport, you know, like Forest Gump, "I think I'll paddle now."

Kayaking can truly be a life-changing experience. It's that feeling of being on the water conjoined with the sensation of freedom and adventure. And for many, that feeling can become in ways highly addictive.
"When one is completely immersed in the elements, experience is heightened as increased awareness is demanded and dulled senses are rejuvenated," wrote the founder of Werner Paddles, Werner Furrer Sr.

Current Adventures Kayaking School & Trips' Dan Crandall who leads annual trips down the Grand Canyon has told me of folks who just up and quit their jobs or their relationships and totally changed their lives after just one trip down the canyon because they were so intoxicated by the river and paddling.

Mine is a different story, but still much the same. Paddling, like for many, had made a few entrances into my life early on. As a teen, I paddled as much as I could while growing up in Nebraska in the 1970s. I took some great canoe trips down the Niobrara River and Missouri River with science trips offered by my public schools. It usually featured long school bus trips, Grumman canoes, along with red licorice and beef jerky.
At 14, it was pretty exciting to finally get on the water for an overnight canoe trip. We would arrive just before dark to a campsite hopped up on sodas, candy bars and the buzz of anticipation and try to get to sleep.
The next day, the excitement would build as outfitters arrived with trailers of canoes, PFDs, and paddles. We tried not to laugh when the first few inexperienced paddlers capsize, knowing it could just as well happen to us. When finally on the river, water fights and canoe dumping, along with developing paddling skills and new friendships entailed over the journey downriver.
I'm still kicking myself for not signing up for the 10-day summer trip to the BWCA and highlighted with a visit to the Rootbeer Lady cabin. If I had only known what I was missing.

For most, outside a few lucky ones who would make it their business AKA, Dan Crandall would be engulfed in life's eddy of education, career, and family. I was lucky to paddle only a few times a year or not at all. I'm sure there were a couple of years where I didn't even come close to a canoe or kayak. But, when I joined my kids at Minnesota summer camps, where swimming and canoeing are part of the daily programs, it reinvigorated my love of the water.

After the long illness and death of my wife paddling took over. I was alone, yet not alone. After the death of his daughter, writer Roger Rosenblatt sought the same therapy.
"I have taken to kayaking," he wrote in Kayak Morning, Reflections on Love, Grief and Small Boats, "They say people in grief become more like themselves. I have always been a loner, so going out in a kayak suits my temperament."
For the few years after her death, I to did seek the solace of nature and the healing powers of the water.
As Rosenblatt concluded in his meditation, "In this boat, on this creek, I am moving forward, even as I am moving in circles. Amy returns in my love, alive and beautiful. I have her still."

In his philosophical novel, Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah, writer, and pilot Richard Bach wrote, "The river delights to lift us free, if only we dare to let go. Our true work is this voyage, this adventure."

In 2013, with a new bride and five kayaks loaded on to a Chevy van, I came to California. It was a homecoming of sorts, to the places I had always dreamed about being. I wanted to see natural places with tranquil clear cobalt lakes and rushing wild whitewater and mountain vistas. I wanted places to unplug from the day to day tension of reality to reach out for the universe.

From my window, I now look east to the Sierra. Just down the road from Lake Natoma and the Lower American River. While up the road is South Fork the whitewater and crystal blue lakes of the Sierra. It astounds me how significant these destinations have become to me. For ones I have visited and paddled often, I know every rock, tree, and feature of the setting that they have become a part of me. 
It's the same with the friends and even the strangers that I've joined with on the water. I've found that everyone is pretty much your friend when they have a paddle in their hand. I guess that why I counting down the days till I'm out with staff and crew of Current Adventures Kayaking School & Trips and in charge of the weekend paddle rentals on Lake Jenkinson at Sly Park Recreation Area this spring and summer.

On the eve of my 60th birthday, I still have the urge to find a home in even more locales both near and far. Even if I don't go far. I still have a quest to load my boat on top of the truck and journey down the road like Jack London's character Canim the Canoe, wanderer and far-journeyer over the earth.
"You know nothing of the sea," he boasts to wife in London's The Children of the Frost, "So let me tell you. As the lake is to the island; so the sea is to land; all the rivers run to it, and it is without end."

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