Heaven and Hell

Easing my kayak down the rocky bank and into the river, my mind instantly began to wander. Thinking of the peace and quiet to be had over the next several hours as I glide silently along, no worries, just me and the river.

Shortly down stream a large blue heron wades stealth like through the shallows, searching for an unsuspecting fish or crayfish. Not more than an hour into the float, I round a bend and surprise a doe whitetail deer standing on a shallow gravel bar in the river with her triplet fawns. In between observing the many wonders nature has to offer, I spend some time tossing a fishing lure and letting my mind wander.

It is easy for the mind to wander when there is literally nothing to have to really think about. No traffic, no crowds, just me, the river and peace and quite. The quite might be broken on ocassion by the quack of a mallard duck who is startled by my sudden appearance, or the caw of a crow allerting the rest of the flock of my presence, but these are wonderful and peaceful sounds. Sounds that I can live with day in and day out. My own little piece of Heaven. But like most good things, they never seem to last long enough.

After several hours of what seemed like Heaven, I was suddenly tossed into the midst of Hell. You see, it was the 4th of July and I was now leaving the river and entering the lake into which the river flowed. What had been a quite, lazy float had now become a torrent of crashing waves, loud motors, and people, lots and lots of people. Jet skis race up and down the now 150 yard river, dodging between pleasure boats, pontoons and boats with motors that sound like they belong in Nascar vehicle. Rarely was there a gap of more than 75 yards between watercraft, each creating its own set of waves. Waves, waves, everywhere were waves. Big waves, little waves. Waves with sharp breaking tops. Slow rolling waves. More waves and boats and noise than I had ever pictured on such a small, narrow section of water.

My little 14.5 foot kayak was more like a big fishing bobber than a boat. Tossed up and down, side to side, I keep my attention on the next set of waves or where the next boat might come flying by. No longer could I just let my mind wander. Concentrating on staying upright was consumed every thought for over 1 1/2 hours until I made it to the far south end of the lake, where it was wide enough to allow some of the waves to subside. I pulled up to the shore and beached my kayak for a moment. I stretched my legs and had to laugh about my day. It was like I had been through Heaven and Hell in the course of 8 hours. It might seem strange but that is exactly why I love living in Mid Michigan.