There are adventurers who roam to all the far-flung ends of the earth seeking adventure, and there are those who find a lifetime of the stuff right on their doorsteps.
I confess I’ve spent much of my paddling career looking over the rainbow and beyond the horizon for bluer waters. With a paddle and a pair of trusty red clogs rather than sequined ruby slippers, I’ve hunted for Oz on the East Coast and out West, in the South Pacific and on the North Shore.
Much of my time now is spent absorbing other peoples’ adventure stories—emails, blog posts and photo CDs recounting exotic expeditions in Baja, Australia, Fiji, Chile, Italy, Alaska and the like. Some drift through my consciousness like clouds, while others snag on the yellow brick road of imagination, lingering and becoming tangible, almost personal, through their storytelling. Jon Turk and Erik Boomer’s Ellesmere Island expedition (found in our Spring 2012 issue) is one such example. Don Starkell’s storied career is another.
Dreaming is important – but so is paddling
When the stories accumulate in such numbers that I have to struggle against the compulsion to do something wickedly ad- venturous, some would say (they’re probably right) wickedly foolish, of my own—book a flight, sublet my apartment, quit my job, buy a Feathercraft, and turn my back on land—I know it’s time to get out. Not on a summer-long expedition or a record-setting circumnavigation. Just somewhere I can leave log prints in the sand and let the waves wash away the funk of self-pity.
Most recently, I tied my boat to the roof and drove two hours for a hastily planned, packed-on-my-lunch-break overnight. On a forgotten coast less than a day’s drive from two of the country’s most populous cities, I watched the sun set and rise over open water. After just 24 hours with my kayak and the coast, I felt infinitely satisfied. Like Dorothy in the Land of Oz, I had been transported to a secret, magical kingdom.
I’m learning that even a brief trip is more rewarding than throwing a tantrum at what might be if not for the constraints of time, money, career obligations and family responsibilities. With a pair of lucky red shoes, a paddle and a fresh perspective on my own backyard, I can transcend these realities.
So be inspired by the achievements of Turk, Boomer, Starkell and others—I know I am. But don’t discount the adventures close to home, the ones you can do on the weekend, after work, or even on a loosely enforced lunch hour. Dreaming is important, but so is paddling.
Virginia Marshall is Adventure Kayak’s senior editor and a fan of old movies.
This article first appeared in the Spring 2012 issue of Adventure Kayak Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.
