adventuring

When Ed and I first came together, oh, more than 18 years ago, he showed me his favorite bike circuits along rural roads, and, too, we took his kayaks out on the rivers that twist and meander through the Wisconsin landscape. His favorite outing, which became our favorite outing, was a double whammy: we'd take his old pickup truck (and I mean old -- now 32 years and aging!), load it with two boats and two bikes, drop off the bikes at one point along a river, drive to a more distant point, paddle down to our bikes, ride them up to the truck, head back to pick up our boats and finally head home. A regular bike and paddle. It took the better part of a day to do all that.

Lately, I'd been less ambitious. I let him do the lengthy bike rides alone and I rarely have the time to go out on the kayaks. It's a big production and, too, I have some aversion to paddling between fallen trees and branches. It takes skill to keep your boat clear of them on these often narrow stretches of water and I'm less enthused about flipping the boat on ripples and over hidden limbs (even as I have only ever flipped once and it wasn't in Wisconsin but in Scotland!). I admit it -- I have tamed down my physical ambitions. Much to Ed's disappointment, I'm sure. I'll go on the lake, we'll bike around where we live, but big, ambitious outings are rare.

But this weekend, Ed persisted. He pumped up the inflatable kayak (it cannot flip, gorgeous, it really cannot!) -- one which we last used along the Dordogne in France, he cleaned up his truck and said -- let's go on a paddle along the Sugar River. He's done it numerous times. he assured me it was a piece of cake.

And the weather today is perfect for it.

And I need a break from weeding. And from the demands of my ever displeased mother. 

So I said okay.

Morning walk to the barn...

 

(meadow daisies and the occasional lupine...)

 And a lovely breakfast on the porch...

And then Ed loads the truck -- boats first, bikes on top, not an easy feat because my electric bike is heavy! -- and tells me "we're ready!"

I dont like his truck. It rattles. I has a busted windshield. It smells of disuse. It's loud. But he's keeping it going, because it is small and he tells me you cannot get small pickups in America anymore, they just dont make them. So he's stuck with this smelly rattling piece of junk. Not that he minds!

I also dont like the pile-up of boats and bikes -- I'm convinced that one big bump will send the top bike tumbling onto the road. (Trust me! -- he says. And I do, sort of.) Still, we get in and drive the load to Paoli -- our bike drop off point. From there, still by truck, to the edge of the river. Where we unload the kayaks.

 

And finally -- on the water.

I have to admit, it's beautiful. All of it. The river, the blue heron that takes flight again and again. 

 

 

 

The few clouds, the wisps of warm sun, the ripples in the river, the trees along the riverbank, the swallows nesting under bridges -- all of it.

Really beautiful.

And though there are tricky bends, and not a small number of fallen trees and branches, and one stretch of small rapids...

... for the most part, it is an easy paddle. And here's the thing -- my mind is wiped clean of all that awaits me round the clock now back home as I try to figure out how to handle my mother's incessant complaints about... well, pretty much everything. On the river, I hear only the birds and the rhythmic splash of the paddle.

We kayak for about 90 minutes and then we take out the boats in Paoli and pause there at the Creamery for a cookie (and coffee!). 

 

 

A short but hilly bike ride later, and we are at the truck again. Drive back to Paoli, load the boats, with bikes on top again, drive home.

(the entrance to the secret gardens of the farmette... )

The whole adventure so reminded me of those early years when Ed and I were just learning to live together. I still worked, he still ran another business on the side -- we were busy, though not with kids and not with an aging parent. And not so much with flower fields -- I didn't move to the farmette until we were well into our life as a pair!

But oh, it has been a great set of years! And on this June day, we continued on our adventures, even though getting out of the boat is less straightforward now, with a new knee, and even though a portage of two kayaks (from the riverbank to the truck) has us panting. 

They may be small adventures, but they always leave us calm and happy, and so full of joy!  

In the evening the young family is here for dinner.

(the arrival of the older two + mommy)

They all glide so smoothly into their farmhouse routines. A chat with my daughter in the kitchen, with or without one or two of the kids listening in... Toy foods, brought over by Sandpiper. Stinky cheese on long crackers -- beloved by both boys. And because it truly is a glorious day today -- we eat on the porch. (Ed's petting Dance, who, for the first time, did not run away when the five of them showed up.)

You wait for good weather, for porch meals all winter long. When it finally falls into place, it's magic. Flowers on the table, a light breeze maybe, birdsong, food, love. It all comes together eventually, doesn't it...