Clean the House or One Last Paddle?

Friends were getting together up in Grand Marais over Thanksgiving weekend and I was invited to join them. 

I'd been looking forward to spending Thanksgiving with my family, and after that had been making virtuous and productive plans for the rest of the long weekend, most of which were variations on the theme of getting caught up with just about everything after a self indulgent spring, summer and fall of paddling.   Cleaning the house was a prominent item on the to do list.  But if you dangle a chance to go kayaking in front of me, I have a hard time turning it down.  And hanging out with good friends is always a treat.  So it wasn't long before the house cleaning was blown off and the departure planning was underway.

Tony and I ended up driving up together on Friday morning, and we both felt just a wee bit silly loading up our boats with the temperature in the teens, snow on the ground, and ice on the lakes.   Just in case the weather precluded paddling, we also packed up cross country skis and snow shoes, which ended up making us feel even more foolish when we looked at the sheer volume of gear we had along.  But ... in for a penny, in for a pound, and we were soon headed north.

In Duluth, Tony introduced me to the Lake Avenue Café, a little restaurant in Canal Park with an inventive menu ranging from pulled bison to falafel to pheasant and rabbit ravioli.  It was vastly better fare than McDonalds or Subway.

We arrived in Grand Marais late Friday afternoon, just as Jeff and David were heading out for a paddle in the harbor.  Tempting though it was to join them, there just wasn't enough daylight left, so we saw them off, then unloaded our gear and settled in to our respective lodgings.  Post paddling and unpacking, all of us gathered in the townhouse and enjoyed a second round of Thanksgiving dinner with leftovers from Michelle's feast from the previous day. 

Saturday's weather forecast was looking likely for kayaking, so after dinner the discussion turned to where.  A suggestion was made that we drive up the Gunflint Trail to Lake Saganaga.   We discussed it, but with the early winter sunset limiting our daylight, an additional 120 miles of driving, and ice along the shore that would be a bit of challenge to launch on and an even greater challenge to land on, we decided that it wasn't feasible on this visit. 

This time we decided we would stay on Lake Superior and head to the Susie Islands, an archipelago a few miles from Grand Portage, just south of the Canadian border.  Susie Island is the largest of the islands and is owned by the Nature Conservancy.  The remaining dozen islands are owned by the Grand Portage Band of Ojibwe.  Landing on the islands is prohibited without prior permission from the respective owners. 

The Nature Conservancy website describes the Susies as "both young and old. The bedrock is slightly metamorphosed sedimentary rock, deposited in a sea over one billion years ago. These rocks were later intruded by molten magma to form resistant dikes. Glaciers of the Great Ice Age scoured the rocks many times over the last two million years, but the Susie Islands only emerged about 5,000 years ago.

"In this isolation, a pioneering community of plants continues to thrive. Species that disappeared from the rest of Minnesota after the glaciers receded northward still survive here. Today, many of these plants are more typically found in Arctic and sub-Arctic regions."

On Saturday the weather cooperated with our plans, with sun and a temperature in the 20s.  We drove up to Grand Portage and started looking for a launch site.  Ice coated rocky shores and roads that were either closed or ice covered limited our options and reminded us that winter paddling requires more than just open water. 

We finally found a viable place to launch from, and it was about 12:30 when we got on the water.   Round trip around the outside of the Susies is a little under 15 miles, and sunset would be about 4:15.  We decided to paddle out until 2:00 and return, however far we'd gotten at that point.

We paddled northeast towards Hat Point.  I initially thought the white stuff atop the rocks was guano, but then realized it was bright white ice.  The waves from the high winds of the previous few days must have crashed on the rocky shore, creating "flung spray and blown spume" that built up and froze into a brilliant white coating on the rocks and trees and grasses.

The Susies came into view as we rounded Hat Point.  The featureless two dimensional green blobs on the map became intriguing islands of varying sizes and shapes.  A couple of rock outcroppings and small cliffs were coated in the same white ice as the mainland and were highlighted by the sun behind us.   The most distant island seemed to be floating free atop the lake surface.

But alas, as our turnaround time approached, it became clear that we weren't going to make the Susies this time.  We reluctantly turned around and headed back to pay our respects to the Witch Tree.  This iconic cyprus clinging to solid rock is sacred to the Ojibwe, who name it the Spirit Little Cedar Tree. Small and gnarled, the tree stands alone between the lake and the cliffs.  It was first mentioned in historical documents in 1731, and was a mature tree at that time, making it at least 300 years old.  Seeing it on a quiet afternoon, it was hard to imagine the violent storms and bitter cold it has seen and endured.  Respect is indeed due to this survivor, holding fast against the odds.

Then we paddled back around Hat Point, past Grand Portage Island, and back to our launch site.  We landed well before dark and loaded up the boats to return to Grand Marais. 

It was a fitting final paddle of the year.  The chill in the air, the low sun and its faded light, and the snow and ice starting to claim their sovereignty over the land were all signs that winter had arrived.  Getting to the Susies and Sag will have to wait for next year, but it was a treat to have one last chance to appreciate the lake with my friends. 

On Sunday we headed for home, with a stop for a short hike in Split Rock state park.

And the house cleaning did just fine waiting one more week.

What a Difference A Year Makes

Last year I went to the BCU week/Skills Symposium at Sea Kayak Georgia and had a great time and learned a lot.  But I really hadn't had much experience in big water, and it showed – I was able to paddle in the bigger conditions, but it was a bit forced.  And skills that I'd only been working on for a year were decent, but there were definitely some rough spots.

This year everything was easier.  Did the 3 star assessment the first day with Lamar Hudgens and another candidate and it went well.  The main feedback was more edging in the surf and conditions, which I worked on the rest of the week.  And a good comment:  a good trip leader doesn't get the group out of trouble;  he/she keeps the group from getting into trouble in the first place.

Day 2 was Rescues and Incident Management with Jeff Allen.  Great teacher, nice guy.  The course could have been a 5 day course (and is in Cornwall), and was packed with information.  Lots of acronyms: CLAP (communication, line of sight, avoidance, position), HEET (Human, Equipment, Environmental, Time), SAFE-R  (Stop, assess, formulate a plan, execute the plan, re-evaluate).  Leading from the front, looking back.  Shepherding and linked chains.  Learning one rescue method that always works, and doing it fast from any position, since you may only have a small window of time to get someone out of there.  Some good towing tips.  The difference between a casualty (someone who is actively involved in the rescue) and a victim (someone who is not).  Jeff F. and another paddler were going for 4 star so they were our leaders;  the rest of us had fun being victims and casualties.  Note to self:  never again get so carried away in the role of being a victim and throw expensive paddle away in front of the surf.  (Fortunately, Brad retrieved it.)  

Jeff F. was shepherding someone in through the surf and she capsized and came out of her boat (not a drill).  Jeff pulled up to do a rescue and her tow rope had come out of the bag and was wrapped twice around the boat.  Like they keep saying:  ropes in surf are dangerous.

But as Jeff Allen reminded us, the sea isn't cruel or out to get us, it just is. 

Day 3 was with Gordon Brown.  Funny how you need to learn things more than once.  I know I've heard "when turning in high wind from a beam to the wind position, paddle on the downwind side – forward sweep to turn upwind, reverse sweep to turn downwind" before, but it hadn't sunk in until this time.  

I bailed after one capsize and tried to do a cowboy re-entry;  it didn't work, and afterward Gordon reminded me about staying low and keeping legs and arms out.  You can get away with things in flat water that you can't get away with in the surf.  We also heard there was one dislocated shoulder that day in another class.

Day 4 was with Hadas Feldman, working on linking strokes.  And of course edging.  At the end of the course, everyone did a "dance" with their boat (extra points of you could narrate it;  I did not), and then we paddled back along the edge of the marsh, using our newly learned stroke combinations to hug the shoreline as it wound about.

Day 5 was Intermediate Surf with Dale Williams and Tom Bergh.  I'd gotten a few good rides in Gordon's class, but they felt like blind dumb luck.   During the surf class, I had a breakthrough in feeling comfortable in the surf.  It wasn't huge surf – probably 4 footers, but it was great fun.  Dale reminded us that we can have influence in the surf, but we can never control it.  I tried surfing backwards -- it was interesting to see what's going on on the wave side of the boat.  Learned that in the surf, you edge towards the direction you want to turn, not away (no wonder edging never worked to turn my boat before).  I'm still a newbie and have lots to learn in the surf, but definitely making progress.

And of course all the rest of the week was great too.  Good friends, good weather, seeing folks that I'd met before, making new friends.  Sometimes on the water I'd just sit there for a few minutes and soak in the pure enjoyment of being on the sea, riding the swells, watching flights of pelicans wing their way across the water and flocks of gulls wheel and turn, spotting the occasional dolphin.  Starting to read the surf and tides better.

The week gave me some great feedback on how much I've learned, but it also opened up how much more there is to learn.  4 star once seemed completely inaccessible.  Now it seems like a lot of work, but within the realm of the achievable.  Definitely ready to take the next step and see where it goes.