Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Sand River Run


Skeeters were having a wonderful season this year. Hordes of them buzzed about my head, drawing a bumper crop of dragon flies to swarm about me as well. Another beautiful Minnesota summer day and I was dipping paddle on the Sand River.

Sand River begins in a little 30 acre puddle about five miles north of the Laurentian Divide and winds and crisscrosses itself for close to forty miles on its way to Hudson Bay. En route, it joins the Pike river, enters Vermilion Lake, continues north through the Vermilion River, eventually finding its way into Canada. The terrain varies like most rivers in this country. From its beginning in the puddle of clear, cold spring water, it worm-tracks a couple of miles through high grass swamp, occasionally alongside a stand of tall, straight White pines before going back to swamp. Seldom can a paddler see more than a hundred yards, most often not that far.

Two deer didn't hear or smell me coming, but they saw me soon as the bright sunset-colored kayak rounded the bend, my hand reaching for the camera. They backed up and slowly, quietly disappeared into the brush and tall grass. Nuts- another missed shot. Well, I wasn't quite as polite as 'nuts' but that's what it meant. Oh, well- next time, maybe. I just had to be patient.

Dragon flies proved to be difficult to shoot as well, even the 'almost cooperative' ones that landed on the blade of my paddle, only to flit away before the Canon could focus. Patience is something I gotta learn new every day. On days like this, it's easy to be patient, though.

Today was a day of "going no where to do nothin'" and I had the day to myself and the bugs and deer and muskrats and beaver. A day to sit back and not hear civilised sounds. Just the bugs an' paddle dipping an' the sound of the water sliding along the reeds and brush and the kayak sliding over it. Just the river, the kayak and me playing peekaboo with whatever I could.

Lily pad flowers were popping out, hardly an inch round, inviting flies to their opening buds. Bees humming about. The brush fully leafed out, the grass green and thick, animal, and some human, trails opening onto the bank.

Swept into a curve by the increasing current, a dam of spring-flood swept brush nearly caught the bow of the kayak but I saw it in time to do a couple fast strokes, direct my way around the blockage. Farther along, a dead fall tree lay in the water, its branches poking up. Between them, I could see a "V" of fast, deeper water and aimed for it, pulled faster by the current, then across the trunk and in calm, deep water.

An occasional stop to take a picture, held stationary by my foot wrapped in the shoreline grass or bow ploughed into the shore. Sun hot and refreshing on my face. Skeeters not really bothersome due to the breeze following the river course. No place to go, no place to be, just a day to "be", to enjoy, to unwind.

Need many more days like this. Away from the house, away from people and animals and appointments. Away from responsibility. Carefree, God filled days of just enjoying His creation the way He meant it to be.

God bless, happy paddlin'-

SunDog



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