KAYAK SUMMER 2015

As summer comes to an end, I look back. I long for the those lost days on the water with a paddle in my hand. Each day was an exceptional gift of either a journey into the past or a voyage into the future. With each dip of the paddle my senses awakened. The smell of the lake, the roar of the river and the spray of the ocean. Here are a few of my favorite images from this summer kayaking.

Lake Clementine

Eppies Training

American River and the Fair Oaks Bridge

Eppies Pre-Race

San Juan Rapids

North Fork of the American River

Loon lake

Lake Natoma

Tomales Bay

We are always looking for guest bloggers to share their adventures stories and pictures. Keep up with Outside Adventure to the Max on our Facebook page.

OVER THE BOW: FOLSOM LAKE

 

 "We, the people, still believe that our obligations as Americans are not just to ourselves, but to all posterity. We will respond to the threat of climate change, knowing that the failure to do so would betray our children and future generations. Some may still deny the overwhelming judgment of science, but none can avoid the devastating impact of raging fires and crippling drought and more powerful storms." --Barack Obama

Over the Labor Day weekend the surface of Folsom Lake hovered at dwindling 364 feet above sea. That is 7 feet above last year's low point of 357 feet and 17 feet higher than the all-time record low of 347 set in 1977. California's drought is taking a huge toll on the lakes and reservoirs and Folsom Lake seems to rest at ground zero as the lake level continues to drop by inches daily.
“It means we would no longer be able to revert water out of the reservoir for the City of Folsom and there would be no water for folks to drink,” Bureau of Reclamation spokesperson Shawn Hunt told CBS13.
The lake, which supplies water to nearly half a million people, is nearing the so-called dead pool level. That means that its water level is nearly too low for water to be pumped out. The Bureau of Reclamation is spending about $3.5 million to build a barge including 10 floating platforms with pumps, so if the water level even further drops, the agency can still provide 19 million gallons of water to residents daily.
The historic drought has also revealed some history as stone walls and foundations of the gold mining town of Mormon Island are revealed again after spending years at the lake. Hikers and explorers now tour the ruins of the town destroyed by fire in 1856 according to historians.
My trip takes me to the north arm and narrow section of the lake across from Anderson Island. In the low water, the island is anything but. Mammoth granite boulders choked the flow North Fork of the American River in past on both sides making it now the narrowest point of the lake. On my way there, I stick to the ever rising banks and paddle past stalagmite shaped pillars reaching out of the water. On both sides of the lake it relative wasteland up to the trees. It's an alien world. An ideal setting for the next Star Trek movie, bleak, stern with little signs of any living thing. The waterline is  shrinking the farther north I paddle, as the lake becomes a thin band of blue.
Benjamin Franklin said, "When the well's dry, we know the worth of the water." I can say the same now about Folsom Lake. As I paddle on I hope for a rainy winter.

Over the Bow is a feature from Outside Adventure to the Max, telling the story behind the image. If you have a great picture with a great story, submit it to us at nickayak@gmail.com

A PADDLER'S JOURNEY, AN INTERVIEW WITH BRYANT BURKHARDT

The water is always calling him. In the Sierra and Ecuador it roars in his face with rush whitewater. In the blue of the Pacific, it serenades him with the song of the sea. Yes, water and Byrant Burkhardt have a kinship, a loyalty and sometimes rivalry. Generally combatants in nature, they share a brotherhood of triumph together with a kayak and paddle.
Burkhardt is nationally respected kayak instructor, both on the ocean and in the river. He has produced videos and published articles for magazines and his blog, Paddle California. In his new book A Paddler’s Journey, he recalls his life-long progression from a paddling newcomer to a guide and instructor. He is now pursuing a career as a novelist, while working and playing along California's Mendocino Coast.
Last week we asked Burkhardt about his new book, his kayaking successes and failures and his connection to the water.

NC: When did you discover that kayaking was your life long passion?
BB: One of my first times kayaking was off Catalina Island in a sit-on-top, in rather large swells. I grew up in Minnesota, the land of ten thousand lakes, and ocean swell was something new and different. It made me want to experience more. As I tried different aspects of kayaking – surf, whitewater, polo, I found different things to enjoy about each of them. The more I enjoyed it the more it made sense to build my life around doing something I loved.
I do think it’s important to point out that kayaking is not my singular passion. It’s one of several. Part of the point of the book is that our passions interact and reinforce each other – the joy I found kayaking spread to other aspects of my life. Most people who kayak have other things they are passionate about – as it should be – and the point is not that kayaking is something special and better than anything else out there. It’s an avenue for finding enjoyment and meaning in life, which is what we’re all looking for.

NC: What made you decide to write A Paddler's Journey? 
BB: I’ve written many kayaking stories on my blog and I enjoy that medium. I also write fiction, novels in particular, and really enjoy crafting a larger story that carries themes throughout. It made perfect sense to combine two to make a book filled with kayaking stories but also a progressive narrative. It was fun to relive my crazy adventures but also examine my past with a critical eye and study how I developed and how much I’ve grown since the beginning. And part of me hoped that other people would enjoy reading it as well.

NC: There are a lot kayaking books, what makes A Paddler's Journey different from the rest?
BB: Every book is different because every author is different. Many books focus on a single type of kayaking, often a single trip. My story includes sea kayaking, kayak surfing, whitewater kayaking, kayak polo, even a little canoeing. At the same time, I didn’t want it to be about my experiences per se as much as the types of experiences lots of people have. The point isn’t about grand expeditions and challenging whitewater - that’s in there, but it’s the background. The point of the book is the journey that all paddlers take – really the journey we all take through life. It’s about the learning process, where things go wrong and you fail. It’s about tasting success and wanting more. It’s about reaching a goal only to realize it isn’t the summit and you have more to learn and achieve.

NC: In Nancy Soares review of A Paddler's Journey, she wrote, "The book isn’t just the story of how to develop all those skills; it’s the story of someone who discovered his path in life through his passion for kayaking." How have you developed, in her word's this "philosophy of life" through kayaking and how can other paddlers apply to their lives as well?
BB: I wanted to share my experience and lessons learned because I think they are common but not always reflected upon. If we’re smart, we try to transfer the skills we gain from one piece of our life to all the others. Kayaking teaches the value of dedication and hard work. It rewards you for practicing and gives greater rewards to those who develop the abilities to handle tougher situations. It punishes you for mistakes and lack of foresight. It provides opportunities to help others and to learn when to ask for and accept help. It teaches you how to play well with others. Those lessons exist in most every endeavor, from kayaking to hiking to cooking to origami. It’s just a matter of paying attention and applying what you learn.
I didn’t want to get too far off on tangents in the book, but my kayak career has been the model for much of the rest of my life. When I decided to be a writer I started with lots of practicing and drills. I didn’t expect overnight success and I continually look for ways to improve and others to learn from. In my personal life, I approach my relationship the same way. I’m much more open to changing the way I do things when what I’m doing isn’t working or someone comes along and shows me a better way. I pay attention to the result instead of my intention. I try not to be goal-oriented but instead focus on enjoying the experiences along the way. All that comes from kayaking.

NC: You wrote in A Paddler's Journey, “No longer worried about accomplishments, kayaking became a means to an end and not an end in itself; a medium to reach other people and enjoy beautiful places. Part of me still wanted to push myself, to use my skill and experience to do something cool. But not alone this time.” Now in these days of bold solo trips, Why is it important to you to share these experiences with others?
BB: I’m an introvert, and I still enjoy solo trips. They’re very valuable and rewarding in ways that group trips are not. But I felt like I had learned enough about myself – not that there isn’t more to learn but to push my solo paddling any farther would have meant hitting high levels of risk, and that was never an attraction for me.
But when I paddle with others I get to enjoy the experience in ways I can’t alone. I love showing people familiar places to me that are new to them – it’s a chance to relive the wonder I felt my first time. I love to see people advance their skills and overcome challenges – it reminds me of my learning days. And I also really like to be able to share memories of experiences with old friends. It’s great to run into someone who you haven’t paddled with in years and be able to reminisce about some past adventure. Telling the story of your great solo trip to the same people over and over again is far less rewarding.
(As an aside, I don’t think there are more solo trips these days – there’s just a lot more GoPros and satellite trackers that allow us to share our solo trips with the world. I’ve done that myself, but it defeats a lot of what is valuable about a solo trip. There is a need and a place for commercialized trips, solo or not, but it takes away from some of the experience. There always have been, and hopefully always will be, individuals doing remarkable trips that no one else ever hears about.)

NC: In the foreword of A Paddler's Journey, you tell of a harrowing experience. Do you think every paddler might have a tale of overconfidence in their abilities and underestimation of the conditions? What do these misadventures teach us?
BB: You can’t have adventure with some failure. You can’t move forward without sometimes stepping too far. Hopefully it happens when the consequences are small, but every paddler I know has some story of when things went wrong. What you learn from those experiences very much determines what type of paddler you become. For me, the important part was to always improve my judgment. That’s what makes a good paddler in my eyes: someone who honestly appraises their own skills, whether high or low; someone who thinks through their decisions and understands risk vs. reward; someone who understands that just because everything worked out in the end it doesn’t mean good decisions were made in the beginning.
But it doesn’t have to be our own misadventures that teach us. I’ve learned a lot of things to avoid by listening to the stories of others. I think my book provides some of that – I hope others can learn from my lessons without having to put themselves in mortal danger.
I also think there’s more to learn than simple safety concerns. You can learn about what kind of people you want to surround yourself with. You can learn how strong you are when you have to be. I’ve seen other people overcome fear or sacrifice their own comfort for someone else’s well-being. Some terrible experiences have bonded me much closer to the people who I shared them with. There’s always something to learn in life from the difficult times that makes the better times even better.

NC: You share a lot of memories of the water, any favorites or places you never want to ever return?
BB: Right now I live on the Mendocino Coast and the paddling up here is amazing – the best sea kayaking I’ve ever found. To be able to have that ten minutes from my doorstep and be back home in time for lunch is really special. And there are some rivers I’d love to run again (if our drought ever ends), like the Middle Feather. I always love the Forks of the Kern, and the Channel Islands are like a former home to me. But mostly it depends on who I’d be paddling with rather than where.
There are a number of places I’ve paddled that weren’t spectacular: Piru creek outside L.A.; the Santa Monica Pier. But I’d gladly do them again if I was in the area and had some good friends to go with. I’ve never been one to chase far off destinations and exotic locations. It’s nice to travel now and then but I’ve always found plenty of interesting, beautiful, diverse, remote, and special places to kayak right here in California. And I still have more to discover.

NC: How has being an instructor and guide made you a better paddler?
BB: Teaching definitely sharpens your physical skills. You have to know what you’re doing and be able to break it down to teach well. It also forces you into a leadership role, which sharpens your judgment further and makes you more self-aware and self-confident. I think it makes you more appreciative of the variety of people in the sport and how different people get different things out of it. That makes it easier to paddle with others and also teaches you to enjoy different types of paddling.
Some of my favorite classes to teach are instructor certification courses, and I get a lot of people in there who don’t really want to teach but just want to improve their skills. It’s great to help them with that, but they also normally end up enjoying the teaching aspect and using it often even if they don’t teach for money. They ‘teach’ their paddling friends, they introduce new people to the sport. It really makes you an ambassador for kayaking and we need all of those we can get.

NC: You are a guide and instructor sharing your passion of kayaking with countless students. Who was your guide and inspiration?
BB: I’ve definitely had mentors. It’s one of the best traditions of kayaking. My buddy Pedro Frigola got me started in kayaking – he’s the one who organized that first Catalina trip, a story I recount at the start of the book. He didn’t formally instruct me as much as simply take me on trips and inspire me to do more. He was (and is) the best paddling buddy because of his positive attitude and endless enthusiasm. Traits I try to emulate.
Paul Macey and his wife Katherine introduced me to kayak polo and whitewater kayaking. Both disciplines are much more technical and Paul taught me skills while once again taking me on trips and modeling great leadership. It’s very rewarding to get to the point where you can handle the same difficulty level as the people who first inspired you.
I’ve had to opportunity to paddle and teach with some of the best in the world, and I’ve picked up things from all of them. The people are what make this sport great and I learn from my students all the time. There’s so much inspiration to be had!

NC: What is the future of kayaking today?
BB: It’s everything. I’m really excited that more people are doing more varieties of kayaking. I love that sea kayakers are trying out whitewater, that people are kayak surfing and SUPing. Cross-pollinating the disciplines helps them all and also helps connect the different communities, which is something I’d like to see more of. I see more people getting more training and pushing themselves further.
At the same time, I see the sport’s recreational aspect spreading. Kayak fishing is exploding. Meetups are making it easier to find people to paddle with. It’s great that cheaper kayaks and equipment, more access to waterways, and public programs are increasing participation. Great, but not without its own problems. I worry that the ease of buying a $150 kayak from CostCo makes people think it’s as safe as a bicycle. It’s not. Especially in a cheap recreational kayak that isn’t built with the safety features you’d find in a more expensive boat (bulkheads, deck lines). You don’t need a ton of education and safety equipment, but you do need a little knowledge and judgment, and too many people going out without either is a recipe for disaster.
It’s a big challenge for the industry to get the message across that people need to wear life vests and they need to be able to get back into their boat if they flip in deep water. The paddle community can help by valuing safety – new paddlers often take their cues from the more experience people they meet. Those who’ve been doing this a while need to let people know that classes are a good thing. Practicing rescues is necessary. Don’t go paddling with people who aren’t safe. It’s peer pressure in a good way. The alternative will be more laws and regulations to protect us from ourselves, and I’d rather not see this sport get buried under red tape.
The best part of kayaking is that it means so many different things to different people. It’s something that can challenge the young and hearty, it’s something you can enjoy into your eighties, it’s something you can share with your kids and grandkids. I hope it continues to become more accessible and draw more people in so they can experience the joy and wonder it brings.

ROUGH ROAD TO SERENITY

 

                              Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations

Up until then, we had been OK. Then the road suddenly stopped! Being a road, that is. Huge ruts and massive rocks block our way. We sat at the point of turning around, going back and finding another way. Meadow Lake Road on the east end of Bowman Lake looked more like a mountain goat trail than a lane travel.

In all my trips to the water, it has always been fairly simple. For trips to Lake Natoma or the Lower American River, stops signs, traffic and parking spots are my biggest concerns. With a little luck,  I'll squeeze into a spot at the boat ramp instead of having to park further away after dropping the kayak off at the water edge. For bigger trips,  I leave the driveway, wade through traffic to the interstate, speed along to the exit, before getting stuck a slow-moving tractor or truck on the blacktop. At the crossing, I turn off the blacktop and on to the gravel road down to the boat ramp.

"It’s the portage that makes traveling by canoe unique." said famed paddling guru Bill Mason. He, of course, was referring to hauling canoes through the northern woods from lake to lake. That's how it's done in places like the BWCA. Canoes are inserted into lakes and streams and then carried by hand to other lakes and streams in between, while whitewater extremists have no trouble transporting kayaks up mountain canyons on their backs to attempt the first descent of the waterfall. The paddling is the easy part, getting to the water is always the ordeal.

Our friend Curt Hough said it was a place we had to paddle. High in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, Lake Foucherie is an outdoor paradise. Clear water, mountain views and towering pines encompass the lake. A hidden and remote treasure that offers more that than just tranquil splendor, but serenity as well. It's so beautiful that photographer Ansel Adams might have switched to color film to photograph its grandeur. We gathered in my pickup with tandem kayak on top and looked forward to what naturalist John Muir described as an inexpressible delight of wading out into the grassy sun-lake when he wrote, "Feeling yourself contained on one of Nature's most sacred chambers, withdrawn from the sterner influences of the mountains, secure from all intrusion, secure from yourself, free in the universal beauty."

The Bowman Lake Road off Highway 20 on the northern end of California's Nevada County is bumpy but well-traveled by four-wheel drive pickup and Jeeps. It weaves and winds mostly on gravel in a northerly fashion past Fuller Lake, up to the dam site. The Meadow Lake Road begins just below Bowman Reservoir's Dam, turning off and winding up the mountain. The road is rocky and a bit unnerving with a steep drop off at ones the side. It would be a wonderful breath-taking view of the mountains and valley if I wasn't holding my breath at the sight of the depth chasm. About half way up we came to our roadblock. There was just no way my truck could clear those ruts and rocks. We regroup, turned around and went back down finding a different road up the mountain via GPS.

The first road must have been the express lane for four-wheel drivers and mountain goats, while the other road switchbacks up the hill and meets for the same view Bowman Lake. At an elevation of 5,585 feet, the lake gleams through our windshield. Its granite rock formations lining the lake buffer between the water and sky. The north side road runs parallel along the steeped lakeshore. It is slow going, however, our destination seems to be in grasp.

All the way to the end of the lake and Jackson Creek the road went from good to bad, to worse. My wife Debbie had taken the wheel now and compared the road to dried up river bed. It might as well had been an old creek bed. Washboard grooves and stones tested the truck's tires and shock absorbers while driving up what looked like an evaporated stream. I walked ahead in spots and clearing rocks and looking for even ground. At the Jackson Creek Campground, the road splits and leads to Sawmill Lake and Lake Foucherie. It wasn't any better. It was a rugged adventurous drive over a parched creek bed and a pine-lined path. When we limped into the Sawmill Lake Campground and saw the sight of Sawmill Lake, we agreed that we have to save Lake Foucherie for another day and unloaded our kayaks.

After the rigorous day of travel, the payoff came softly. Sawmill Lake cooled us in an instant. The water gave us relief, the pines refreshed us and the majestic mountain views mesmerized us with their beauty. It wasn't our original destination, however, its wilderness seems to sing to me. You made it!  It's the journey that matters, and the adventure lays in just getting here.  Now enjoy my serenity.

Naturalist Sigurd Olson thought of it that way when he said, "And that, I believe, is one of the reasons why coming home from any sort of a primitive expedition is a real adventure. Security and routine are always welcome after knowing the excitement and the unusual. We need contrast to make us know we are really alive."

SIERRA HIGH, LOON LAKE PART II

The day ended with a Dan Crandall bear story by firelight. We had just gotten off the water after viewing the Perseid Meteor Shower on the lake. The fire was slowly fading and in Dan's story the bear was closing in. Across the glowing embers, I saw other campers melting into their camp chairs as their sleepy eyes and yawns were revealed by the fire's flicker before sinking back into the shadows. Their muscles were stiff and sore from the day's paddling across the lake. Many had already retired to the comfort of their tents, while others put off the inevitable crash into their sleeping bags hoping to make the day last just a bit longer.

"I think a lot of people want to go back to basics sometimes," wrote former Canadian Prime Minister and paddler Pierre Elliott Trudeau in his memoirs, "To get their bearings. For me, a good way to do that is to get into nature by canoe – to take myself as far away as possible from everyday life."

Current Adventures Kayak School and Trips has hosted this two-day overnight one-of-a-kind camping experience in August for almost ten years. During the days, paddlers escape the heat while exploring the pine-scented Loon Lake in the Crystal Basin Recreation Area east of Lake Tahoe, while at night campers are treated to a night-time paddling experience to view the Perseid Meteor Shower. All the meals and paddling gear are provided, freeing kayakers up to only de-stress and unwind in the realm of nature.

"I don't know.  I lost count," said Dejaun Archer, when asked how long she has attended these camp outs.  "It's probably been about seven or eight trips. I like the group, I like the people. It's just really great. The food is great. The scenery is great. It's just a lot of fun.  As long as they keep doing them, I'll keep coming."

Pristine blue water, textured granite shore and clear skies greeted the group of 20, mostly women boaters earlier that day for their first trip on to the lake. I was along for my second year as a guide for the trip but still felt the same thrill as everyone else while lowering the kayaks into the water. While most had paddled a kayak before, with each cast off I sensed their brimming excitement of exploring the unknown. At 6,378 feet, Loon Lake features 10 miles of boulder-lined shoreline with awe-inspiring views of the Sierra Nevada, however, the California drought had taken a toll on the mountain reservoir this year. At about 50 percent of its normal level, the lake's crystal clear water was significantly lower than my last visit. Our usual hidden-away paddling destinations and coves were now parched and dry. The popular visit to the tunnel on the east end of the lake turned into a hike instead of a paddle. Loon Lake paddling veteran Archer didn't let the drought soak up the fun.

"I don't think it (the lake) is any different, but it is lower." said Archer, "We got to walk into the tunnel. I have never done that. I have been here when you couldn't see the tunnel at all. I have been here when the tunnel was very short and you couldn't go in it, and I've been there when we kayaked in it. Now this time we got to walk in it, which I thought was really cool."

The lake might be low, but the trip was full of laughter and springing with new friendships as the boaters paddled along the lake shore. Each paddler shared the enthusiasm of kayaking with one another. Some speeding ahead together, while others hung back embracing the beauty and calm of the day's journey side by side.  Dinner and the campfire afterward provided more laughs, some wine, and camaraderie.

"It's a pretty good group," said Current Adventures' Dan Crandall, "Most of them are doing something they have never tried before and enjoyed it. They all came as strangers and are leaving as friends. They will all probably end up paddling together. That's kayaking."

The smoldering embers ignite one last time, while the bear in Dan's story backs off and ambles back into the woods. Above me, the last meteor shoots through the stars perfectly framed by the silhouettes of towering majestic pines. I look into the night sky and ponder Trudeau's profound words...

"A canoeing expedition…involves a starting point rather than a parting. Although it assumes the breaking of ties, its purpose is not to destroy the past, but to lay down a foundation for the future. From now on, every living act will be built on this step, which will serve as a base long after the return of the expedition…. and until the next one."

STARRY STARRY NIGHT....LOON LAKE PART I

“I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.”--Jack London

"There goes one!" a voice calls out in the darkness.

"Where? I didn't see it," says another.

"Through the Big Dipper. It had a bright tail."

"Oh man! I missed it. What is that?

"An airplane." says another.

"Geez, we're not going back till I see one."

Lost in space between the stars in the heavens and the serene of the lake, we are adrift in the magic of the night. The constellations, Pegasus, Cassiopeia and Ursa Minor shine brilliantly in the moonless sky as our eyes focus toward the east in anticipation of catching a falling star.
There are less than a dozen of us floating in the tranquility of Loon Lake. Our bobbing armada of kayaks is lashed together by our fingers tips as each boater holds tightly to the boats between them. Colored glow sticks dangle in the shadows of our figures while some of our headlamps give an eerie glow. It's just after ten and there is a slight gleam over the mountains. It seems like the whole universe is presented before us.

Loon Lake renders the perfect backdrop for the annual Perseid Meteor Shower during its peak in the month of August. The Crystal Basin Recreation Area's lake on the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains just west of Lake Tahoe, offers scenic beauty, limited crowds and no light pollution. Tucked away and only a short drive from Sacramento, California, Current Adventures Kayak School and Trips have been providing overnight camping trips for the meteor shower for nearly 10 years. With meals, camping equipment and kayaks provided, paddlers and first-time campers enjoy a cozy "roughing it" in-style camp-out.

"I love the night time paddle,  says longtime lake visitor Djuna Archer, "It's looking up at the stars. This time we have no moon so it's beautiful. It's quiet, serene and lovely."

 This is our second time out on to the water. We had kayaked the length of the lake earlier during the day, however, at night, the lake takes on foreign appearance. The California drought has taken a toll on Loon Lake, dropping it excessively. It is lower than most can ever remember. Just finding our kayaks on the shadowy lake shore is an adventure in itself. In line, we are an illuminated parade of headlamps over the rocky beach to the boats and then, one by one we drop our kayaks into the water and drift into darkness. We follow the leader,  Current Adventure's Dan Crandall's glowing headwear to the center of the reservoir.

In the middle of the lake, we group together and lean back looking at the stars. The daytime heat is gone and a coolness brushes over the water. Our voices and the sound of the kayaks bumping together breaks the silence of the lake. We feel the slight vibration of the water below us as the rocking bows gently remind us we are not on solid ground. There is the mystery of water below us and a dazzling array stars above. Our thoughts navigate us through time and space... How long does it take the light of the stars to touch the earth? Can those satellites see us from above? I wish I could stay here forever.

"Especially in the dark nights," naturalist Henry David Thoreau said long ago while night fishing on Walden Pond, "When our thoughts had wandered to vast and cosmogonal themes and other spheres, to feel this faint jerk, which came to interrupt our dreams and link you to Nature again."  

Our thoughts are disrupted by a flash of a meteor's trail. Fourth of July oohs and awes charge the air. But, the shooting star is gone much to quickly to fully enjoy its splendor. The Perseid shower is known to rise gradually to a peak, then fall off rapidly afterward. We have just missed the peak by a couple of days. The meteor shower is more of a sprinkle but intermittent with wonder and laughter from our group on the lake. Seeing a falling star is always special, however catching it with new friends while kayaking a high Sierra lake is simply magical. It is an experience we will remember for a lifetime.

Dan left a light flashing on the shore so we could find our way back. We had a campfire, a couple of bottles of wine and a full day of paddling waiting for us tomorrow.

 

Part Two of my trip to Loon Lake next week in Outside Adventure to the Max.

OVER THE BOW: LAKE NATOMA

  The path of the paddle can be a means of getting things back to their original perspective. – Bill Mason, Path of the Paddle

 It was a quiet morning on Lake Natoma earlier last week. A slight breeze passed over the water, causing barely a ripple. I could feel its coolness coming off the water and in the shade of the trees. It was a welcome relief from the daytime heat that usually blasts this valley.
I had beaten the rush. The parking lot of the Negro Bar access was still empty along with the rest of the lake. The usual array of Huki boats, sit-on-tops and fishermen had yet to arrive and the lake was pretty much mine for my own adventure.

I wasn't lost in the wilds of the BWCA or Desolation Wilderness. I was only a couple of miles from home and could hear the hum of traffic buzzing over the Folsom Avenue Bridge. But, I might as well have been. Because with each muffled stroke of my paddle, I slipped further away into nature's domain.
Environmentalist and wilderness guide, Sigrud Olsen said  'There is magic in the feel of a paddle and the movement of a canoe, a magic compounded of distance, adventure, solitude, and peace. The way of a canoe is the way of the wilderness, and of a freedom almost forgotten."'

Alone in my thoughts and on the water, I felt a certain exuberance in this calm of tranquility. On a simple morning cruise around my neighborhood lake, I felt that same deliverance and enchantment that Olsen pontificated about his beloved northern lakes and forested wilderness.  I was minutes from the freeways, gas stations and fast food restaurants, yet the lake was still home to things wild. Ducks, geese, beaver, and deer find the same sanctuary that I do near its waters.

It was an effortless paddle for me, through and around the slough of the lake. The lake level has been a bit higher in the past few weeks making it an easy way to navigate through the tiny rocky islands without scraping the bottom of the kayak. In the stillness, I brushed past the prickly blackberry bushes tangled up against the water. The berries hang over the water like gaudy ornaments. They were a lush tempting red, far from being ripe enough to pick and very tart to the taste. The black ripened juicy ones are few and out of reach.

Up near the Rainbow Bridge, the river has joined the lake. The cold water released from Folsom Dam only runs a short way as the American River before being captured again by the Nimbus Dam, creating the lake. I felt the slight tug of the current and hear the gentle sound of water flowing over the rocks. I marveled at the three-story canyon walls embracing the narrow river on both sides. Further up the Folsom Prison cable sign lets me go no farther. I put my kayak into the current and felt it turn me back downstream.

 Over the Bow is a feature from Outside Adventure to the Max, telling the story behind the image. If you have a great picture with a great story, submit it to us at nickayak@gmail.com