The other day Shannon and I were shopping for drytops at Springriver. And I was lamenting that the new kayak clothing colors are all muted and grey. Why don't they make kayak tops in fun colors like ... Purple? I have a purple kayak and purple pfd and I had joked about painting my house purple.

Shannon cast me a sly smile and said, "Have you seen the purple house in Takoma Park?"

Of course I had seen it. It's very large and very, very purple.

"Well, it's owned by The Purple People," she said. "They drive a Purple car. They wear Purple clothes. It's a religion ... based on the color purple. Since you like the color purple so much, maybe you should check it out. It could be your new religion. ... You could become one of The Purple People."

"Are you serious?" I ask. I think she's making fun of my obsession with purple. But I looked it up later ... on the internet ... and it's true. There is a religion based on the color purple.



According to the The Purple People Website, the color purple is a color of the highest spiritual vibratory rate. This is the color of the age of enlightenment, the age of Universal Consciousness, the age which the world is now embarking on.

I don't mean to make fun of their religion. Personal religious or sexual practices are just that ... personal. I just find it humorous that I've been a practicing Purple Person in my Purple Mirage with my Purple PFD and my Purple Bandana ... and I didn't even know it.

To all the Purple People out there ... may the Purple Force be with you!

-Susanita

On Friday, September 22, Susan and I circumnavigated Kent Island. This was a 35 mile paddle, which is by far the longest distance I have ever kayaked in one day. According to my GPS we kept an average pace of 4.2 mph and we took only two real breaks. On the first leg down the west side of the island we encountered brutal head winds which slowed the pace down to three mph only to be rewarded later when we passed Kent Point and the winds turned in our favor sending us surfing towards Parsons Island, at one point reaching a top speed of 7.9 mph. By the end of the day I was exhausted and sore all over, but I was ecstatic over our accomplishment. To see the complete photo album click here.

All summer I had been participating in the Kent Island Practice Paddles (KIPP) that Marshall Woodruff had organized as a CPA paddle series. The culmination of the practice paddles was to be a circumnavigation of Kent Island. And both Susan and I were signed up to do the final circumnavigation with the group. But a few days before the scheduled trip I started monitoring the forecast. Saturday was looking bleak. At one point the forecast was for 3-4 ft waves and 20 knot winds. I really didn't think the group would be doing the circumnavigation on Saturday under those conditions. And my schedule for the next month was booked, which meant if Marshall rescheduled the circumnavigation I would miss it.

But the forecast for Friday was good. The winds were forecast to be calm Thursday night coming from the northeast. On Friday the winds were expected to shift to the south in the afternoon and peak at 10 knots. Wave height prediction was one foot. High tide for Love Point, the farthest point north on the island, was at 6:53. Sunrise would be at 6:56. Low tide for Kent Point was estimated at around 11:30. I figured the winds would still be calm Friday morning which would allow us to ride the tide down from Love Point to Kent Point. And hopefully the southerly winds would not kick in until we were launched from Kent Point. If we left Kent Point at low tide, we could then ride the tide back up to Love Point with the wind at our backs. I emailed the proposed itinerary, tide data and weather forecast information to Susan with the note that I was planning to do it on Friday regardless of her decision. She agreed and proposed we meet at Love Point at 6:30 am.



The launch site Marshall had found for Love Point was some sort of fishing boat launch within what looked like a construction site. There were heavy cranes on land and old rusted boats resting in the waters. Kind of a graveyard for old ships. There was a small gravely area about three feet down from the parking lot where you could lower a kayak into the dirty, litter strewn water. It wasn't the ideal launch site but most of the land on Kent Island is privately owned and we were grateful that Marshall had found this one.

When I arrived at Love Point Susan was already there having left Philly around 4 am for the two hour drive to Kent Island. I didn't want to miss the sunrise so I quickly grabbed my camera and ran over to where the fishermen were loading up their boats. They were surprised to see me and asked if everything was ok. I told them we were launching our kayaks to circumnavigate the island and was greeted by a round of hoots and hollers. Yo baby ... they were impressed. I took a few shots of the sunrise and the fishermen promised to look out for us on the Bay.

We started to unload our boats and gear when I noticed Susan was wearing a really loud kayak shirt. Hot pink and neon orange. And her boat is purple. When embarking on a serious kayaking expedition it's important that you trust your partner completely. I trusted Susan as a kayaker but I was having serious doubts about her color coordination skills. Not wanting to offend her I commented that her kayak top was very "interesting."

"Oh, it gets worse," she said. "I have shorts to match. I want to make sure I'm seen on the water." Then she showed me her flares. I felt better. She chose the top for safety.

I also brought more safety equipment than I normally bring. I had a first aid kit and tow rope in addition to my paddle float and marine radio. Jokingly I showed Susan the tow rope and told her it was to tow her if she couldn't make it. She laughed. We were both intent on completing the journey. The only reason for a tow would be if one of us had a serious injury like a dislocated shoulder.



By 7:30 we were in the water and paddling out among the graveyard of ships. The sun had risen and was casting a soft glow over the water. There was the slightest breeze coming from the east and the water was calm. I took a few parting shots of the launch site and the shoreline and we settled into a comfortable pace. There was no reason to push it. We had 35 miles to go. Susan said she wanted to keep an average pace of four mph. It was about six miles from Love Point to the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. For those first six miles we averaged 4.6 mph.



And Susan at the Bay Bridge ...



We passed Hemingway's restaurant, another launch site that Marshall had found. It brought back memories of previous KIPP trips. Doing the practice paddles around various parts of the island really helped. Passing the various landmarks was like passing old friends. It was comforting.

The next four miles were relatively calm although the wind was picking up. We passed by a beach I remembered from the first KIPP paddle. But we didn't stop. One important thing about the KIPP paddles is that it taught us where the take-out points would be. There aren't many on Kent Island. Much of the shoreline is lined with boulders to prevent erosion. And the few beaches that exist are on private property. We could probably beach there in an emergency but we certainly didn't want to picnic on someone's land.

About four miles from the Bay bridge the sky turned dark and the winds started to pick up. And the winds had shifted to the south which meant we were paddling into head winds. There was a triangular shaped storm cloud directly overhead. The scheduled lunch stop at Kent Point was six miles away and I needed a pee break. We passed a jetty which led into a marina next to a restaurant. Next to the jetty was a small beach. Susan motioned for me to head to the beach. As soon as we landed I saw the sign. "No kayak launching." But it didn't say no peeing. We decided to make this a quick one purpose stop.



Launching back into the Bay we found the conditions were continuing to deteriorate. The winds picked up rapidly. The storm cloud hovered right overhead. The only thing worse would have been if it had broke lose on us. But it was just us against the wind for the next six miles until we reached Kent Point. I was constantly monitoring our speed on the GPS. At times we dropped down to three mph. I had set my GPS to stop collecting speed data when we dropped below three mph under the assumption that if we were moving less than three mph we must have stopped paddling. Even when we're stopped, liked for a water break, we're still moving due to current and wind and I didn't want that calculated in with the paddling data. So every time we dipped below three mph the GPS calculated that distance as "Rest time." All total we ended up with over a mile paddling in "Rest time."

It was a slow paddle to the Point and we pretty much stopped the casual chatter we had kept up for the first ten miles of the trip. Up ahead was a strip of land that stood like a teaser before us. It looked like the point was right ahead when in reality our stop on Kent Point was another mile past. I remembered this from the previous paddles but still I kept thinking that once we made it to the land in the distance we would be there.

Marshall had made arrangements with a homeowner around Kent Point for the KIPP group to use his boat launch and yard as a kayak lunch stop. We had stopped there for lunch on two of my KIPP paddles. It was a large parcel of land with an older, smaller house set back from the beach. Getting access to this one stopping point was a major factor in making the circumnavigation possible. As we came around the Point our direction changed from due south to almost due east. That put the wind to our side and the waves cresting on the beam. But just knowing that lunch was but a mile away gave me a second wind and our average speed inched up from 3.4 mph to 3.8 mph.



It was around noon when we finally reached the lunch spot around Kent Point. Susan called her friend Anne who was to meet us at Kent Narrows to let her know our progress. Anne also provides ground support for the KIPP paddles. The storm cloud that had dogged us for the last six miles was out of sight and the sky that was left was clear and blue. While I'm paddling I tend to heat up but after we landed the combination of wet clothes and wind gave me the chills. I put on a paddling top for warmth and beached on the pier with my PBJ's. I had brought four PBJ's for lunch. I'm not much of a cook and certainly not a gourmet paddler. When I told Susan the night before what I was packing for lunch she just laughed. She had just finished making her four PBJ's for the trip as well. So it was PBJ's and gatoraid.

We probably stayed at Kent Point longer than we should have. But the total distance from Love Point was a little over 16 miles which is longer than most of the kayak races I've done. According to my GPS and heart rate monitor I had settled into an aerobic pace of about 130 bpm for most of the paddle. I wasn't tired but I needed a break. And the next leg of the paddle would be without breaks. It was an eight mile open water crossing to Parson's Island.

When we launched from Kent Point the winds were still blowing strong, much stronger than the 10 knots that had been forecasted. And the tide was coming in which made launching even more difficult. Susan went first. I tried to position her kayak as far from the pier as I could when she pushed off but the force of the tide and wind pushed her into the pier. For several tense moments she was pinned next to the pier. I watched as she slowly inched her kayak backwards along the pilings of the pier until she was out in open water again. I did a better job of launching my own kayak and managed to avoid the pier on the way out.



The direction from Kent Point to Parson's Island is northeast. The winds were coming from the south and the tide was coming in. We attached our spray skirts and started paddling our normal pace. Then Susan caught a wave and like a bullet she was off. Then I took off. Without any effort we were surfing. It was great. I kept watching the GPS and calling out the speeds. The Mirage is not a racing kayak and neither is Susan's Solstice. But at one point I had us clocked at 7.9 mph. I'm not sure how high the waves were but Susan said when I went down in the trough she could barely see my hat. At their peak we guessed they were three feet. But for most of the trip the waves were probably around two feet.

We decided not to stop at Parson's Island like we had on previous KIPP trips. This shaved off at least a 1/4 mile maybe more. So we headed for the strip of land opposite Parson's. For most of the trip we paddled side by side but for the trip to Parson's this set us on widely different courses. Small variations in direction can add up over time and we were both paddling in a zone. Sometimes she would be way off in the distance by the time I realized she was not paddling in the same direction. So we changed strategy and she let me lead while she followed behind.

I had set my GPS to beep everytime we passed a mile. When we had just passed mile 24, Susan yelled over, "We just did The Blackburn Challenge." The Blackburn is a 24 mile open water race in Massachusetts that we both have plans to do next year. My goal is to not come in dead last. Susan says there's a certain pride in coming in last.

I glanced down at my GPS. "Well, our time sucked. We've been out here over five hours," I said.

"The rules say we have to finish in less than six hours. We made it," she said.

"Ok. Then who won. Me or you."

"You. I think you were in front," she said with a grin on her face. This is a joke. Susan would never let me beat her across the finish line in the Blackburn. She would always try to sprint at the end.

We passed by Parson's and headed toward the strip of land just opposite the island. There were houses set back far into shore but the land next to the water was marsh land and covered with tall grasses. It was at least four miles to our next scheduled stop at Kent Narrows and we both had to pee. Bad. Susan motioned for me to follow her into the marsh. We checked to make sure the ground was firm enough to stand on and we made one more quick "one purpose" stop.

The direction from Parson's to Kent Narrows is almost due North and I was hoping for a significant increase in speed because we'd have the wind at our backs and the tiding coming in. I had set my GPS to record data in one mile laps. Averaging the lap data I come up with an average speed of 4.6 mph. I know my paddle stroke was starting to falter due to fatigue. So maybe we were getting a push from the tide. The biggest push came when we entered the Kent Narrow Channel. I could also see the bridge which was our next stopping point so I got a huge increase in motivation. I clocked us going through the channel at 6.4 mph. We coasted into the take-out right after the bridge.



The take-out at Kent Narrows is a boat launch and public park. We beached our kayaks to the side so as not to interfere with the boats launching and returning and waited for Anne. We didn't have to wait long. She had been looking out for us along the bridge and as soon as she saw us coming down the channel she drove to the boat launch. It was really good to see her smiling face.

She gave us both a hug and congratulated us on our accomplishment. I downed some gatoraid but I was too tired to eat. Susan ate another of her gourmet PBJ's. Anne directed us in some stretching exercises in the sun. I could have stayed there all afternoon, but it was Susan who reminded me that we had five more miles to go.



We launched again and I got a final photo of Susan under the Kent Narrows Bridge showing five fingers ... for five more miles. We exited the channel soon and then we were back out in the open water. The direction from Kent Narrows to Love point is northwest. I don't remember much about the water conditions only that it wasn't glass and the waves were not coming from the rear as I had hoped. Our average speed hovered around 3.9 mph. Susan said she wanted us to keep a pace of at least four mph, but that was the best we could do.



At one point Susan said she saw her car at the take-out. I knew this wasn't possible because the parking lot is shielded from view by old rusty ships resting in the water. I told her she was hallucinating. So I told her I could see my warm comfy bed waiting for me at home. She said she could see the bottle of gin in her van and the bottle of ibuprofen that went along with it. I said I could see a cup of cocoa waiting for me in the loft where I would curl up and watch a movie ... we kept this up for a while and it was quite entertaining. Then the take-out did come closer into view and my pace started to pick up. Susan, who likes to paddle at the same pace regardless, stayed behind.



I got to the graveyard of ships and made the last turn past an old crusty vessel into the marina that served as our beach. Anne saw me first and blew her blow horn. I looked behind and saw Susan's paddle blade. Then as I paddled into the marina I glanced behind again and didn't see her. I yelled to Anne to look out for her. I was afraid she was lost or worse exhausted. So Anne ran to the end of the dock area and yelled back that she saw her coming. When she paddled up to the take-out she had an evil grin on her face.

"I was trying to sneak around the side and surprise you. But there is no side entrance," she said. Ahhh. She was trying to beat me to the finish line ... again!

We got to the end and there was no ceremony, no ribbons or hardware. Only Anne beaming at us and telling us how proud she was that we made it. We accomplished our goal. We circumnavigated Kent Island.

And it was a very, very good day!

-Susanita

I made it! I raced in the Wye Island Regatta. For me, that alone was an accomplishment. A year ago I never would have dreamed of racing a kayak. I was an arm paddler and I was slooooow. Since then I've mastered my surfski, mastered the forward stroke, and learned alot about racing, strategy and preparation. I've come a long way in the world of kayak racing and next year I hope to go even farther. To see David Shames' complete photo album click here.

In the Fall of 2005 I ordered my hot pink Huki/Futura S1-A Surfski . I really had no intention of racing it. I already had an older Futura II and I just wanted a faster kayak (in pink). And the S1-A was designed especially for someone my size. I didn't know anything about racing. But I had heard of the Wye Island Regatta. And I remember pulling up the race results from 2005 and reading the list of women who raced ... I knew Cyndi Janetzko from the Georgetown Pirates, but I had never met the others: Melissa Schmidt, Kathy Kenley, Susan Williams (Lady Justice) and others. I calculated their race times and I was in awe. I was still struggling to paddle over 4 mph. I had a wing paddle but I barely knew how to use it. I was an "arm paddler." I had no torsoe rotation. Basically, I had no technique. And I was sloooow. So the thought of racing in a serious race like the Wye Island Regatta was beyond my comprehension.

My surfski arrived late January 2005. It was the dead of winter but I managed to talk three paddlers I knew from the Pier 7 Pirates into going out with me on the very calm and flat Patuxent River: Brian Blankinship, Alan Dixon and Mark Donigan. I remember inching it out into the river with my feet hanging off the sides for stability. I made my way over to the shore where a branch was sticking out of the water. Carefully I moved my feet into the single footwell and with one hand on the branch I tipped the ski on its side. Back and forth. I wanted to find where the primary and secondary stability was. I found it. Gently I let go of the branch to see if I could balance on my own. Yes! I paddled out into the river and met up with the guys. They were all paddling surfskis and most of them had spent months learning to balance and paddle them.

But for me ... I loved it from the very beginning. That first day I came off the river I was ecstatic. I loved paddling the surfski! Remember the old weebles wobble but they don't fall down? That was me in the surfski. I didn't huli once that day. For me, the S1-A really is "The Perfect Surfski" .




A few months later I attended the South Carolina Canoe and Kayak Festival and took another forward stroke clinic with Greg Barton. That was pre-blog so to see photos from that event on Kodak, click here. He told me to change the offset on the paddle and increase the length to 208 which I did. And he told me to increase the force on the catch. Every little modification seemed to help. I didn't have a GPS but I felt like I was going faster.

But what I really wanted was to take the surfski out on the Bay. And eventually I did. On my first paddle with the Kent Island Practice Paddle (KIPP) group around Kent Island I took my surfski. I also met Susan Williams, Lady Justice, who was one of the serious racers I had read about. I had enjoyed reading her kayak reports on the delmarva listserve. It was nice to finally put a face to the name.

That first day out on the Bay paddling the surfski was pretty hairy. Every muscle in my body was tense from trying to stay upright in the wind and waves. But my goal had always been to be able to paddle the surfski on the Bay so I was intent on pushing it. I also got the chance to talk to Susan about racing. I knew nothing about racing. She actually made it sound like something I could eventually do. The only kayak race I knew about was the Wye Island Regatta. But she sent me a list of all the races on the East Coast that she had compiled and I started thinking seriously about racing the surfski.

Then in April I attended CPA's SK102 skills clinic on Lake Anna and took more forward stroke clinics with Brian Houston, who works for Epic Kayaks (owned by Greg Barton). Again he had me working on increasing the force at the catch. I spent most of the weekend sprinting across the lake. And edging the surfski. I knew I needed to feel totally comfortable in the ski on flatwater first and I had to be able to edge it on the side. Susan Williams came and gave an informal talk on what she called "recreational racing." Susan likes to call herself a recreational racer. I think that means she races for fun. But she's really a serious competitor. Her list of racing accomplishments is long and impressive!

So my goal for the summer was 1) to master paddling the surfski on the Bay in wind and waves and 2) to race in the Wye Island Regatta.

I accomplished both. For most of the summer I paddled every Wednesday night on the South River with the Pier 7 piracy. The South River can get some pretty choppy water because it feeds into the Chesapeake Bay and it has lots of boat traffic. So my practice area for the surfski is a river with wind and waves. I also got the surfski out on the Bay ... one day in 3 foot waves. And I went out kayaking every chance I could get with my kayaking friend and forward stroke coach, David Shames. David is not a racer but he knows the forward stroke. And he's an excellent coach. There were times when I thought I had perfected my stroke and he would point out some small error. He and Brian Blankinship did another forward stroke clinic at Pier 7 and David videotaped us all. Using the video and his excellent coaching I was able to move my paddling to an even higher level. Thank you David!

And I competed in five kayak races. I did the first of the CPA "fun races." It was only 2.7 miles but it was challenging and gave me a taste of what a real kayak race would be like. Then I did the Loyalsock Flatwater Challenge in PA and had a blast. In July I competed in The Nanticoke Kayak Race in Seaford, DE and discovered that prerace preparation should include taking your allergy medications on schedule. And in August I got a taste of what it feels like to go the distance with someone who is equally matched and just as intent on winning when Susan and I competed against each other in The Broadkill Race in Lewes, DE. And lastly I did The Wye Island Regatta.

So I made it. I raced in the Wye Island Regatta. In my tippy 16" wide surfski through various degrees of wind and waves. It was more than I could have hoped for last fall. So for that alone, I feel like the race was an accomplishment.

Of all the races I did this summer the race at Wye Island was probably the most nerve racking. I spent the week before the race paddling in the Adirondacks in my Purple Mirage, a stable sea kayak. I hadn't been in my surfski for over two weeks. Susan had taken me on a pre-race tour of the course at Wye a few weeks before and the water around the island had been like glass. But in the few days before the race the forecast had changed to 1-2 foot waves. I had trained all summer in the surfski in various degrees of wind and waves but I didn't know if I could do it in a race. Tension. Tension. We all felt it. And numerous emails were exchanged between the five of the women racing about weather conditions, race class definitions, and which kayak we were racing.

I was also having a lot of pain in my right arm. In the previous race my right hand had froze up a 1/2 mile into the race from what I believe was lactic acid buildup during the opening sprint. I basically paddled almost 4 miles in intense pain and without being able to move my fingers. I decided that I must have some sort of repetitive strain injury in the right arm and hand which was interfering with blood flow.

So I was nervous about the race. So nervous that I got to Wye Island Saturday morning a full hour before registration. On the way there I stopped at the Kent Island Yacht club and looked at the water around the bay. It was as smooth as glass. I decided to race the surfski. I was nervous about that because I hadn't been in it for over two weeks. So after I got to Wye I got out on the water a full hour before the start. I paddled around and warmed up. I had the heart rate monitor on so I could see my nervousness in big numbers. I wasn't even racing but my pulse was already on race mode! I was also hoping that by properly warming up my arms I could avoid the dreaded lactic acid burn I had been experiencing on the right side after the start.

The pre-race warm up helped to calm me down but it didn't relieve the lactic acid burn. We did a mass start around 10 am. I got to the starting line-up only a few minutes before start. Mentally it caught me off guard and I didn't get the GPS turned on until almost a mile into the race. But like I've done in previous races I took off fast. I was keeping a good pace and was maybe 15 boat lengths behind Cyndi. But my right arm started to freeze up again. I've had a few people tell me I should just paddle through the pain, which I did. But it's not just the pain, the muscles basically freeze up and I can't grip the paddle. I seriously thought about ending the race. Then about two miles into the race I passed under the bridge and Susan caught up with me. I told her about the pain and she asked if I wanted to raft up and shake my arms out. I was very happy to take her up on her offer. Surfskis are not stable when you're sitting still. By rafting up with me she gave me a chance to shake the lactic acid out of the uncooperating right arm. Her friends Cliff and Chris stopped by because they thought Susan had flipped in the surfski. We stayed there for about 3 minutes.

And then we were off. But we kept pace together. A short while later we entered a section of the river with considerably more waves and boat wake. Because I had trained all summer in the surfski on the South River and a little on the Bay this didn't faze me at all. But Susan is a flatwater paddler and she doesn't handle waves in the surfski yet. She looked fine to me, but looks can be deceiving. She said she was scared. So I did what I could to talk her through it and calm her down. Basically a surfski is like a bike. You're only stable when you're moving. So we just kept moving through the waves ... side by side. Occasionally I paddled in front but I kept checking behind to make sure she was upright and paddling.

After we had passed through most of the squirrely stuff (about 2 miles) I noticed her confidence start to improve. She inched her surfski out in front a bit. I knew we would need to start racing again and part company soon. Right about then a nice boat came racing by giving us a nice set of waves on the beam. It didn't faze me but Susan slowed and turned to face the waves. I glanced back and saw that she had drifted maybe three boat lengths behind in that one boat wake. We were nearing the point and I knew the river would flatten out as we came around the corner. And once we were in flat water she would be back in her element. She likes to sprint and I didn't feel like paddling behind her through a second race. So I took off.

There was a white Dory ahead of me so I set my sites on catching up with him. I caught up and found myself in a very wide, comfortable boat wake. Ahhh. The sense of relief. It wasn't my intention to ride the wake. But once I was there I struck up a conversation with the Dory paddler and he was very nice. He had just bought a house last year in PA with his wife and bought the Dory to keep in shape. He did the Wye Island race the previous year and by his accounts ... almost died. Last year it was oppressively hot. I started telling him about my racing and the issue I was having with the lactic acid. We were having a pretty nice conversation and for a while I forgot that we were in a race. Racing can get pretty boring at times. It was nice to have someone to talk to.

Right after we turned the point Susan showed up on my tail. She was trying to sprint after me. Ahhh ... the race. I had almost forgotten about her. I thought she might need a break so I turned and asked her if she wanted to take my place behind the Dory. She yelled something at me that I couldn't hear. So I asked the Dory guy what she said. He didn't know. Maybe it was something he couldn't repeat. But she stopped sprinting and we went back to our conversation.

The rest of the race was pretty nondescript. Susan says I drafted the whole time behind the Dory. I did for awhile. Then I'd start to feel guilty and I'd paddle off to the side. But it was boring paddling on the side. So I tried to chase down another kayaker for a wake ride. That was fun for a while. Then I went after a 6 man team, but of course I couldn't get near them. But I was always keeping pace with the Dory so I decided to paddle behind him a few times. He was nice to talk to and we had this brief symbiotic relationship. He faced to the rear and couldn't see in front without turning. So I told him where to go. And I faced to the front and couldn't see Susan. So he gave me updates on her progress. Basically she was getting further and further behind. The boat wakes were slowing her down. Pretty soon the "race" was over.

But it didn't feel like a real race ... even though Wye Island was the "big race" I had been training for all year. First the issue with the lactic acid almost caused me to quit the race early on. Second I took a three minute break two miles into the race. Third I coached Susan through the waves and didn't race her at all during that period. And finally I drafted the Dory for more than a mile. Not because I needed to ... he was just so nice to talk to. And apparently I wasn't the only one drafting that day!


So I did my first Wye Island Regatta in my surfski. I accomplished my goal. I got a really cute ribbon with a smiley face on it. Susan got one too but in a different color. I threw mine on a shelf somewhere. And the next day I went out paddling with Shannon on the Bay and kept the incredible pace of maybe 3 mph. We put-in at Sandy Point State Park right near the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and paddled across to the other side ... about 4 miles. We had lunch on the beach and she introduced me to canned sardines. They look horrible but they actually taste pretty good. And then we paddled back slowly, chatting and laughing all the way.

And it was a really good day!

-Susanita

In September I attended a CPA organized trip to the Adirondack Lakes in New York. I took over a 100 photos each day ... too many to post here. I started working on a separate blog for the trip but ... kayaking got in the way. It's still not finished and it's progressing slowly. But David Gottlieb has posted photos on his website. My only complaint is that he didn't take enough photos of me!

-Susanita