Kayaking the Caddo

Soon it will have been a year since we met on a dating site and then in person at the museum of fine arts living room. I was touched that he had brought two canteens of water (who brings canteens to an urban meeting?) and excited by the fact that after one hour of talking and saying goodbye in the parking lot, he had then stood glued to his phone as he recorded a mysterious bird call coming from the copse above him. Within the hour, he had sent me said recording with a request for identification. That passion for knowledge, especially related to fauna and flora, continues to be a a major ingredient in the glue between us.

Part of my healthy relationship recovery involves remaining ever vigilant of my tendency to abandon myself in exchange for affection or approval. Slippery slope behaviors that sound the alarm bells include participating in all or most of his hobbies without reciprocation. I think we're doing fairly well there, and we are still in the process of trying to figure out whether I will or will not be a kayaker. 

Yesterday was booked off from work (mine; he retired decades ago), and by my 8:30 a.m. arrival at his house, he already had kayaks, skirts, paddles, daypack, cooler with food & drinks, and a change of clothing packed into vehicle number two of five, the pickup with winch. Because he has multiples of everything, I affectionately think of him as Carl the Collector (a cartoon figure meant to teach children about autism).

I was happy the destination was only an hour away since I find marathons that deposit me back home past my bedtime less desirable. We were overjoyed that earlier predictions of rainstorms were proven mistaken, as the grey banks of clouds opened like theater curtains onto a glorious, partly cloudy day with a light breeze. 

I was also very pleased by the fact that he started me out in shallow water with a lesson on how to cross a current paddling against it (because sometimes you need to position yourself upstream before tackling a certain trajectory) before giving me a choice on whether to kayak down to a take-out offering shuttle service back to the put-in, not an unreasonable challenge for my fourth lesson. We had our helmets and PFDs, of course. With some encouragement to stay put for 45 minutes while he drove down to the shuttle station and came back on a school bus, we started just below the dam below Lake DeGray and do an easy, beginner friendly section easily covered in three hours, including a sandbar lunch break.

On the sandbar at picnic time, he asked me about my observations of kayaking so far. We are trying to gauge whether this is something I'll want to continue to pursue with him or not. I listed the parts I enjoy:

• spending time together
• lunch time in nature
• seeing interesting critters and plants
• when I'm able to do the required manoeuver

The parts I do not enjoy are:

• the feeling that this Priscilla the kayak is too big for me
• the feeling that I don't have enough core strength to paddle her properly, twist, and do the stern strokes and keeling at the stern
• his chaotic presentation of the curriculum, with steps and information out of order
• wearing a helmet (the one he gifted me doesn't fit right)

After this very honest conversation, he confessed that manufacturers don't even make kayaks like Priscilla anymore. Why? They are too hard to steer. BINGO! It's not all in my head! His idea is to let me try a shorter kayak next time (he has dozens in his basement, all lined up like dominos about to topple) and to glue a foam donut into the top of the ill-fitting helmet. It's a damned expensive helmet that I cut the tag off of after he dug it out of a closet and presented it to me; I can see how it makes him sad to think of giving up on it.

We left our phones in the truck at the take-out, so there are no photos of us kayaking, but here is a highlight of the day. Down in the southwest part of the state, they have this lovely bird species, the Great-tailed Grackle. It makes loud whistle sounds that our Common Grackle cannot match. Males do this interesting sky pointing behavior to assert dominance over other males. My love carries a tub of popcorn wherever he goes, and this came in handy when he wanted close-up pictures of these pretty birds. The females are a most beautiful glossy bronze color that changes depending on how the light is hitting each part of her body at a given time. The young walked around on their long stilt-like legs with bills agape, begging for pieces of popcorn. It was hard to pull ourselves away from this gas station! The locals surely thought we were nuts to encourage these pesky birds.