Spring forward, and I will!

I have climbed the last surgical hump. I put my great fears aside and went for the pelvic organ surgery to deal with the bit of mesh, or suture, that had been causing me such pain and misery for the last year. Today. And now, a week of bed rest more or less, and I will finish PT for my hips and I'm free.

Release me into the world! I'm ready for the spring's muddy trails. (note to self-get new rims on the Tri-Cross) And the rivers all around the DC area are calling me on to the water.

This year I start the year with a full quiver of boats well matched to my needs and abilities: A Wilderness Tsunami 120 for those playful days in the shallow rivers with rocks, and branches; my beloved Current Designs Solstice GTS for those long days on the bigger waters, rivers, bays, sounds, and long point-to-point paddles; and my new Necky Elias, perfect for playing in surf, moving between rocks, and navigating some of the closer waterways in the area.

Each boat has its pros and cons. I have considered selling the Tsunami. I am interested in taking some white water classes this year and could be talked into getting a more appropriate river boat. There's only room for three so the Tsunami would be the logical boat to sell. I am supremely confident in the boat. Its primary stability, large cockpit, and thick poly layup make it practical and practically indestructible. It makes a great loaner for visiting friends and family. It's also the heaviest boat I own pretty much guaranteeing that I can't get it out of the garage by myself. And being a shorter wider boat means I pay a hefty price when out with the big boats.

The Solstice, well, I could sing its praises all day. Its beauty, incredibly fine finish, and very comfy fit make it ideal for me. It's light enough for me to move in and out of the garage by myself and with the help of the Thule Hullivator it's no struggle to load it on the Subie and take off. Its composite glass/kevlar layup has held up very well to 6 months of non-stop paddling. I'm in boat-love. It's also, true to Greenland style, tricky in choppy water with swirling currents. I busted plenty of sweat in Cobscook Bay in Maine last June. I wasn't yet fully familiar with the boat, mostly my own fault. By the end of the paddling season, when the doctor kicked me out of my boats and off my bike, I had come to a sure place with it. My comfort zone had expanded. But much like with my female Aussie pup, I can never fully let my guard down. Or I will find out why "they" say : a sea kayak is a long, thin, elegant paddle-driven boat with a cockpit on the underside.

My Necky Elias, well, just one paddle old is a charming poly boat with a ton of rocker. It will turn with just the paddler's turn of the hips. Its plastic layup is thinner than the Tsunami, but this means it's lighter. Again a boat that I can get to the water without help. There's a lot to like about it. Its down side is simply that on a long paddle, point to point, the rudder is a necessity to reduce fatigue piled on by the need to correct its course. I'm good with that. Not a big issue. I was already used to the Eliza having the exact same characteristics and I got an entire year of paddling, a whole twelve months, before I sold it.

I am not a prayer, I don't have any belief that the universe operates that way. But I am thankful to whatever mechanisms operate this complex bio-physical machine we inhabit. I've been handed some very tough lessons and had my down-and-outs. But I am also lucky, very very lucky. For my lessons, my growth, and my happiness and joy, for this I am grateful. Good night mates, see you on the water soon!

Our club getting ready to clean up a little local lake called Lake Accotink in April 2012. Catching the trash here means less trash flowing into the Potomac. That's me on the far right in the white hat.

A Full Moon paddle on the Potomac near Old Town Alexandria. What a gorgeous night!