The Way Boating Should Be

Last Sunday my brother and I took a kayak trip up a narrow stretch of Lake Mayfield. It was one of those precious, rare trips that is absolutely perfect in every respect. The sky was covered by a layer of fluffy grey cloud through which the sun could only cast a dull, soft light. The air was barely warm and every so often a chill would blow across the lake, which was oddly refreshing. As for the lake itself, the region where we went was confined by forests and cliffs where the water passage was narrow and deep and still.

Chris, my brother, was nervous. He hasn't often been in a kayak and he was afraid the wakes from the motorboats would prove.... difficult.... to pass through. Ironically, the first wake we hit was the worst for him. I hit it first, it was fairly large, but, really now, that's what makes wakes so much fun. Anyway, I got through it with no trouble. Somehow though, Chris failed to clear it and ended up.... in it. He didn't capsize but was fairly thoroughly soaked. A fact he reminded me of throughout the rest of the trip.

Unlike Chris, my low point occurred on land. I had gotten out at a spot where a short steep climb put me on the edge of a pretty cool landslide. I climbed up a little ways and found myself brushing through nettles, which hurt and itched for quite a while after.

Now, specifically for Mrs. Jones, my most devoted and encouraging reader: You must come with me sometime. Despite the risks, I cannot think of anything more fun than going on a kayak trip with you. We can even take a thermos of tea along and have a tea party on the water.

The Start of the School Year

School begins in less than two weeks. Although it's not a very exciting prospect; another year of stressful work, it's still comforting that I'm halfway through (my time at the community college). And I look forward to this quarter particularly, on account of my first art history class. After years of having a passion for the subject I finally will be able to study it officially... yay!

This year I intend to do more exciting things: join a band, school groups, hang out in downtown Centralia, and drink many mochas. I'll probably come to regret this, but I credit these ideas to Toby, the hound-panda, who has taught me to be less sensible. Thank you, little friend.