Caddy Lake; Revisited

It was weird, trying to remember how to get there, to find the boat launch, to know how much farther it is. We loaded the canoe with a vague recollection of where to aim ourselves and set off in that general direction. We got to the tunnel that would take us into South Cross and Mck was amazed. We got into South Cross and again were struck with vague familiarity, the notion that we knew where we were supposed to go but not really knowing where we were headed.

We passed out-croppings that we thought were the island we needed to get to and grew nervous at the sight of all sites taken. All of my backup sites had patches of color where tent fabric could be seen through the trees and I grew tired at the thought of turning around and paddling back to the car for lack of somewhere to actually stop. Finally, our island was in sight. The rock that I spent hours upon hours jumping off of from just that right spot where you could hurl yourself off without hitting a shallow rock. The spot where I would sit and watch the sun go down for more nights that I can remember. The sweet span of shield where the fish were always biting. And the half of the island full of trees that hid the second campsite. We saw a couple of people on the exposed side and knew that site number 1 was taken. But with nothing to lose, we headed towards the left side and wouldn't you know it, vacant.

It was cool. It was breezy. It was protected but open. It had water on three sides. It had trees for hammocks, flat spots for tents, access to water and we made ourselves at home.

I woke up in the brightness of the middle of the night. I saw the stars and I stared. I stared at them for a long time and thought about how tired I was going to be if I didn't stop staring and get to sleep. And then I stared some more.

Morning came quick but we did not rush to pack up this time. I rocked some more in the hammock, paddled some more just for fun, took some more pictures just in case I missed that perfect shot, and watched the wind go from non-existent to "today's official challenge". We've been out on the canoe one other time in 7 years. We have had the wind in our favor for the three times we've had to paddle to or from somewhere this year. I wasn't sure if my arms would remember what it was like to paddle against something.

I guess its like riding a bike. You dig in and don't stop and when the waves come you time your strokes to the rise and fall so that you don't waste a stroke in the dip of a wave and don't end up with water to your elbow at the height of one. It was tiring, it took a long time, it was reminiscent of paddles we used to power through. So we did. McK was a champion and was content when my answer to her "how much longer" question was "I don't know honey." It was better than the whining that comes with my usual reply of "844 seconds". I think she respected the honesty.

We got to the car after nearly two hours of remembering where my triceps were hiding and saying hello to my core muscles. I thanked my shoulders for their tireless effort and gave a nod to Mother Nature. She knew I secretly wanted a challenge even when I didn't realize it myself.

I drove home home exhausted, McK sleeping in the back surrounded by piles of gear, and was satisfied.