August 28, 2010
Summer Road Trip - Lake Powell
After relaxing the morning away, Becki had arranged for me to go kayaking on Lake Powell, so after lunch I went down to the marina.
I paddled as hard as I could to the shore. There were a couple of houseboats docked along the side and next to them, a few tents. I pulled my boat completely out of the water and stood on this isolated bit of rocky beach, dotted with tall growing green weeds and I watched the storm in the distance. The storm seemed to gather darkness at its bottom, its top was still innocently fluffy and white. I watched as the finger of rain grew and thickened into a larger mass. I looked behind me, to the other end of the canyon where it was bright and cheerful and storm-free.
So, I turned back towards the marina, angry with myself. Why was I angry with myself? Because I felt like I was not a risk taker, I was submissive, I was a slave to my common sense and logic. But I went back anyway, my paddling conflicted as I did not want to admit that I was returning out of logic, or that I might still have a chance to go further away and explore when the storm did not appear. But then, over the horizon, I saw, not a finger of a rain cloud reaching toward the horizon, but a whole hand, two hands worth of rain fingers. Holy Crap, I thought, that looks bad.
Before I knew it, the storm was rushing in on me, closing in fast. I paddled with intensity, focusing only on my mechanics to make myself move stronger, faster, more efficient. Occasionally I broke my concentration to observe the progress of the storm. This propelled me faster and harder. I was out of breath, my muscles were pulling as hard as I could. I leaned into it, I pulled I used my arms, my back, everything I could. As I approached the marina dock I saw the young guy who had helped me put my kayak into the water. He appeared there like he had been searching the water for my bright yellow kayak and now I was here and he was glad to get me out. When I pulled up and got out, we lifted the boat out of the water and he took my lifejacket and paddle. "You came back just in time. Do you want to call Becki to come get you?" he said.
"You made me drive in hail!" Becki exclaimed, jokingly. When I got back to the house and Becki took off for work, I surveyed the sky. It looked like another storm was right behind. But this time I got my little video camera, my voice recorder and my camera out to capture the sights and sounds of the thunderstorm.