I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve rowed, paddled, or motored the Sammamish Slough. It’s not my closest launching ramp—it’s a half-hour drive from my Seattle home—but the slough is well protected from wind and never stirred up by powerboat wakes. I can always get a good workout by kayaking 5 miles upstream to a gravel bar where I have to turn around and paddle back. Last summer, I did that out-and-back two or three times a week.A few days ago, I needed to take a long-overdue break from all the things I had yet to do, not only for work, but also around the house. I was tempted to take a nap, as I had been doing with increasing frequency, but that never seemed to put me back to rights. Exercise is usually a good remedy, but I was finding it difficult to muster any enthusiasm even for my favorite workout, paddling the slough. I’d seen it all so many times that I could visualize what lies on the banks of every bend. I balked at going to all the trouble of gathering my gear, changing my clothes, loading the kayak, and making the drive to the launching site. I didn’t have it in me to paddle my usual 10 miles, but I knew I’d be worse off if I gave up entirely and stayed home.I loaded my lapstrake canoe and, along with the usual boating gear, brought a sleeping pad, two pillows, and my cagoule, thinking I’d take a nap on board.
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Bliss.
Sounds delightful!
Beautiful descriptive writing.
Sounds like my kind of adventure. The Wishkah River in Aberdeen was a good place for just such a nap.
The Raquette River in Potsdam, NY, does it for me in my CLC Wood Duck 10. Five minutes from the house there are lots of islands and inlets and no power boats.
aaaahhhh… as a kid (a very long time ago) I’d sail our Seaford skiff out on the great South Bay and just let everything go and drift.Watching the clouds drift by was just so peaceful….There is nothing better than doing nothing on a boat…Thanks for bringing back that memory…
Ah, the Art of Doing Nothing, well, is no easy task. Not for the squeamish nor foolhardy. You have captured it here, enchantingly! Well done, sir.
Thanks for the ride, and now that we are back I will get back to my yard work. It is easier going with you than spending the time just getting ready
to go by myself. Thanks again for taking the time.
We so rarely take time to just be.
Thanks for taking that time and for reminding us of the rewards from doing so.
Most enjoyable article.I would like to know more about the canoe used for for the trip as I am much interested in building one like it.
Thanks, Harry. You can read more about the canoe in my editorial “Father’s Day.”
Everybody has a special place where “simply messing about” is the best thing you can do. Do you leave a “wake-up” call request?
Beautiful writing and description, Chris. I can just picture your slough. There’s a Spanish proverb: “How beautiful it is to do nothing and then rest afterwards.”
I grew up on the Hudson River in Stillwater New York, and as a kid I used to row my boat all over the place. When it was too hot, or I got too tired, I would tie my painter to an overhanging tree and take a nap in the shade. If I rowed slowly and quietly, I could sneak up on many different animals along the way. I will never forget the time I was rowing for quite some time without turning around and did not notice a rain squall coming towards me, I wondered, what the heck is that noise? When I did turn around, I saw I was about to be drenched! I laughed out loud. Many years of great memories. I’m 67 now, have been sailing since I was 16, and have a Catalina 22, kept on Saratoga Lake.