7th Annual Solo Float - First Deep Breath
8 January 2020
2019 appears as a colorful smear. Maybe paint, maybe a little blood, definitely some mosaic grout. It is as bold and abstract as anything from my art history courses, but I made it. And now I can say we made it. I'm now part of a we, but today still stands with value. The first float of the year will likely always be solo due to temperatures of both water and air, but I love it. It is 5 hours in the car of a book, music and sightseeing. It is 4 hours on the river of complete solitude. Once I say goodbye to Big Mike (my favorite shuttle driver of all time) I have 10.5 miles of open water, cliffs, gravel bars and me. That doesn't sound like a big feat, but 4 hours of silence with yourself can be a bit startling in this very connected and on demand world. I had temptations to turn on tunes and I fought it. Fought to instead turn my ears to listening to the numerous critters making their way through dead winter grass and leaves. Fought to listen to my own rhetoric and piece it apart. I wasn't totally successful in finding peace out there, but I had one hell of a nap in the middle of it. Beyond the picnic turned nap, I was able to see loads of Kingfishers, turtles, one Blue Heron, a few fish and even a flock of turkeys pawing around on the edge of the water. The noises those hens made in the slowest attempt to flee I've ever witnessed, were charming. They ascended the hill lacking grace, but provided a lot of joy. Lastly, I saw an otter. I was in the very last quarter mile and a little white face peeked up from an eddy and was gone just as quickly. I waited and hoped, but it didn't resurface. Regardless, a 63 degree day, the whole Buffalo River to myself and ample water is a great win.
And here is the best part....every turn, gravel bar, overhanging branch, familiar tree reminds me of an animal sighting, a memory with friends, family or even solitude. It is like reliving all of my favorite stories in one day. The emotions roll with it and I can only be thankful to have so many days on such a glorious river. This year will be a recommitment to being on the river, being on the bicycle, with the overarching priority of adventure with those I love. I hope you are game to join me and get out there with your tribe!
2019 appears as a colorful smear. Maybe paint, maybe a little blood, definitely some mosaic grout. It is as bold and abstract as anything from my art history courses, but I made it. And now I can say we made it. I'm now part of a we, but today still stands with value. The first float of the year will likely always be solo due to temperatures of both water and air, but I love it. It is 5 hours in the car of a book, music and sightseeing. It is 4 hours on the river of complete solitude. Once I say goodbye to Big Mike (my favorite shuttle driver of all time) I have 10.5 miles of open water, cliffs, gravel bars and me. That doesn't sound like a big feat, but 4 hours of silence with yourself can be a bit startling in this very connected and on demand world. I had temptations to turn on tunes and I fought it. Fought to instead turn my ears to listening to the numerous critters making their way through dead winter grass and leaves. Fought to listen to my own rhetoric and piece it apart. I wasn't totally successful in finding peace out there, but I had one hell of a nap in the middle of it. Beyond the picnic turned nap, I was able to see loads of Kingfishers, turtles, one Blue Heron, a few fish and even a flock of turkeys pawing around on the edge of the water. The noises those hens made in the slowest attempt to flee I've ever witnessed, were charming. They ascended the hill lacking grace, but provided a lot of joy. Lastly, I saw an otter. I was in the very last quarter mile and a little white face peeked up from an eddy and was gone just as quickly. I waited and hoped, but it didn't resurface. Regardless, a 63 degree day, the whole Buffalo River to myself and ample water is a great win.
And here is the best part....every turn, gravel bar, overhanging branch, familiar tree reminds me of an animal sighting, a memory with friends, family or even solitude. It is like reliving all of my favorite stories in one day. The emotions roll with it and I can only be thankful to have so many days on such a glorious river. This year will be a recommitment to being on the river, being on the bicycle, with the overarching priority of adventure with those I love. I hope you are game to join me and get out there with your tribe!
GET OUTSIDE!
A chilly start, but nothing like past years.
Pro picnic lunch napping tip: find an old depression from an eddy on a gravel bar, place blanket, eat lunch, lay down. Guaranteed napping in your private gravel lounger.
View from my napping spot.
Say hello to the locals.
Look at that water clarity!
Hello Heron
Water Creek - A favorite place for a million reasons.
Parked in an eddy waiting for otters to reappear.
My favorite tree and my favorite winter takeout.
Sunset over nowhere.
Life is good.
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