One of the gals called, "I will be by to pickup your kayak Thursday night. Make ready."
Friday evening we all piled in her pickup and pulling a trailer full of kayaks, headed out for the Blue Moon Paddle. It was hot, it was smokey from all the fires, and we were all tired from a long week. The thought of being able to spend a couple hours on the water made the journey worth the effort.
We got up to the lake in plenty of time to paddle for a few hours before the sun set.
The others were having a great time teasing me about all the gear I have stashed in my dry sacks. It got to be a question and answer period of: do you have? the answer was nearly always, Yes. (I do not have pink sparkly duck tape.) (I do have reflective tape, but I didn't tell them.) I understand that they have never traveled in the back of beyond with no one else around, or ever been out of cell range. I'm quite sure they think I'm paranoid. I just prefer to be prepared, and hopefully never have to use any of it.
We were a motley group: a banker, an auto dealer, an orchardist, a retired mill wright, and I.
We drank a few Blue Moons in honor of the occasion,
watched a pair of falcons hunt, felt the soft breeze off the water, smelled the pines, saw fish jump, got wet, told outrageous tales, and laughed at and with each other.
A gorgeous full blue moon rose through scattered clouds as we paddled in...