Twoyaking: The act of paddling with one regular sized person and one smaller person (preferably the larger persons child) in a one person boat.

It is not exactly the easiest thing to do; taking photos from the kayak – made harder still with the addition of a 10 year old to the small boat. The missed shots mean nothing though, when compared to the time we’ve been having paddling about together. If you have the chance to cruise around in a kayak with your kid, I strongly recommend it especially if there’s the possible inclusion of beavers.

This was our second adventure of this type, each has been exceptional. I’m having a hard time thinking of a better way to spend time with my 10 year old daughter. Our trips about in the van are fun but the van is large and often the sights to see along the road fail to be more interesting than the iPhone or the tablet she carries. She will engage for a while and she especially likes to help me steer the car or hop in my lap and drive for a bit. We dont have the challenges with the boat, there simply isn’t room for anything else in there and our close proximity to each other lends itself well to the necessity of whispering and quiet to see the critters.
Last nights adventure found us in the marshy inlet waters of Jenny Gulch. I love it back there and paddle back that way often but this time the water was high enough that we could actually get back into shallow waters that are bursting with new life right now. We saw nearly a dozen blue herons all perched atop various pine trees, a couple beavers, a family of merganser and lots more.

The clock was ticking by way too slowly for such a perfect spring Friday afternoon. I got a Facebook message from a dear  friend informing me that he and his family were in town for the weekend and wanted to get together. I told him that I had made plans to join some friends who were planning to camp at Center Lake in Custer State Park. They were eager to join the party and even offered to swoop me and Anna up and give us a ride. It was wonderful to see them again and catch up. Since our last encounter they had welcomed their son (2 and a half) into their lives. He was pure delight and I was so pleased to get to spend the time with them. We all enjoyed a walk on the tiny beach, the kids played in the sand and Anna even decided she was brave enough to go for a little swim, a decision she regretted later when she realized she had to hang out in the rapidly chilling air with wet clothes.

The light faded quickly and I decided to try out some long exposure shots around the campsite. We grilled up some tasty camp food,wished the campers a dry evening and then headed back to town. We followed an impressive thunderstorm into town but never found ourselves in its path.

The next morning, my buddy Nick picked me up, we tossed our kayaks on top of his jeep and hit the road. We drove south to Angostura, not my favorite lake but I’ve had my eye on a paddling spot there for a few years and was anxious for the chance to finally explore it.  The area is a shallow marshy area near Shep’s Canyon on the west side of the lake. As we unloaded our boats I was quick to notice some large big white birds catching some sun on a sandbar to the left. I thought instantly that they might be pelicans and couldn’t wait for Nick to get his gear all packed to verify my hunch… I set out and was delighted to be proven correct.

The American White Pelican to be exact. I believe they were migrating through on their way to breed to the east.

Cornell Lab of Ornithology says:
American White Pelican breeds mainly on isolated islands in freshwater lakes, forages on inland marshes, lakes, or rivers, favoring shallows. Islands used for breeding are often 30 or more miles from foraging areas. During the non-breeding season, American White Pelicans favor shallow coastal bays, inlets, and estuaries. [source]

The big, goofy, awkward birds hung out long enough for me to shoot some nice photos before they eventually determined that I was close enough and floated away. However, I was able to follow and observe them for about a mile or so from a distance. I enjoyed the shallow, marshy, swampy area I had wanted to explore for so long.  It had a creepiness that was kind of fun, lots of old dead fallen dead trees to navigate around that the turtles seemed to find quite conducive to sunbathing. Angostura is a large lake, full of fast boats and murky water, but it was nice to find a quiet place out of reach of the speed boats. There was a ton of wild life that agreed and had decided to call that area home.

After a couple hours of watching and paddling, we decided to pack up the boats, grab a sandwich and head into Custer State Park to Bismark Lake. While we drove north through Wind Cave National Park I jokingly said to Nick, “I would like to see some Elk. Can you make that happen?” Always eager to please, Nick drove us around a corner and I exclaimed “ELK!”. We didn’t have much time and the light wasn’t great so I wasn’t able to get a good photo but I gave it a try and I was grateful for the opportunity to see the majestic animals before continuing onward to our next destination. Surprisingly, I had never been there before and, I have to say, I am amazed it has taken me this long to discover this magnificent place.

As we unpacked our boats I noticed the faint rumbles of thunder from far in the distance and decided it was far enough away to proceed with our plans to paddle. I decided to leave my camera in the car, though, because my battery was about to die and should it happen to rain, I didn’t want to be stuck on the lake with the camera. Want to guess how long it took me to regret that decision?

I rounded a corner and instantly spotted a large nest on the other side of the lake. It was only moments later I was able to identify its inhabitants… Osprey. I continued to paddle around the lake, the whole time having a dialog with myself about why my decision to leave the camera in the car was the right one and how I could always come back for a better shot of the birds… bla bla bla. The whole time my previous osprey fail was ringing clearly through my head.  Then I watched one of the osprey defend the nest from a hovering turkey vulture and I decided I simply couldn’t take it anymore, I turned my boat around and paddled full speed back to the car. I quickly paddled past Nick to fetch his keys. We had a brief conversation and decided there was zero chance of rain. That was enough to convince me that I had made the right choice. I packed the camera in my water proof compartment and set back out across the lake.

I reached the other side and climbed up onto a very excellently placed granite rock and had JUST set up my camera when I noticed that the thunder was rolling at a much more consistent tempo… and then I noticed a drop or two of rain… and then I heard the sound of lots of drops of rain… at that point, I knew it was time to pack up and get to shelter. There was an entire lake between me and the vehicle, and while I may not be smart enough not to get caught out in a rain storm, I am smart enough to know that the last place you want to be in an electrical storm is in a boat on a lake. I looked around quickly, spied a nice rock overhang and hunkered down. I sheltered my camera with my body and tucked my shoes and over-shirt in as far behind me as I could.

I waited out the storm and Facebooked a little, called Nick to let him know I was alright (he had made it safely back to his car). I texted my mom, and laughed at myself a little. The rain and thunder were soon joined by some pea sized hail. Eventually the downpour slowed to a drizzle and I was able to crawl out from my hole and back onto my osprey-watching perch. I sent Nick a text and  said “I’m going to sit up here and photograph these ospreys until my battery dies!”  He replied “I want to catch some fish! I’ll meet you on the lake.”  I was able to get some really nice shots of the raptors coming and going from the nest and even a little video of the male calling to the female after she flew off to dry her wings. The sun began to peek out and warm the rocks and a perfect mist began to rise off the granite and the lake as if it were eager to become clouds again.  I headed back down to my boat, which I had stupidly left open side up. That didn’t stop me from enjoying my float (all be it a bit soggy) back around the lake.

I met up with Nick mid-lake and he was bound and determined to catch a fish so we paddled around the lake for another half an hour or so while he attempted to snag one. He never did hook one though but I did witness one more oddity. I had noticed patches of disturbed water on the perfectly still lake. It seemed like there was something just below the surface that was churning up bubbles. At first, I thought it might be beavers. I had seen several tell-tale signs of their inhabitants around the lake and wanted, so desperately to see one. It seemed every time my back was turned you could hear a loud splash, but each time I turned to catch a glimpse of what the noise maker was it was too late. I pointed out the churning pockets of water to Nick and he slowly floated toward one. We both watched in amazement as dozens of tiny fish jumped from within the disturbance at the same time and splashed back into the water. I wasn’t able to get a good look to identify what kind of  fish they were; there was a good handful of them per school and they were able to disperse pretty quickly and almost disappear when you approached them.

The temperature was dropping quickly and my tollerance of soggy shorts was growing thin. Signs of the next storm started to rumble from the same direction and we decided it was time to head home before it got too late.

We threaded the needle between two dark and ominous storms on the way home.  I was shocked when I looked at my clock and it said it was 7:59. The time had flown but only because it was all so fun. I big thanks to Nick for spending the day with me! It was truly awesome!

As my dog Tuesday ran the shoreline with me, I paddled away from our whole group, into the peacefully silence of a just waking ecosystem. For the most part it was all pretty effortless with the exception of a few places where I had to break the ice with my paddle to keep going. Where there was ice it was pretty thin and manageable. But then all of a sudden it changed into what I can only refer to as “Magic Ice” – the best way I can think to describe it is that it was like millions of pencil shaped ice crystals floating in water. That might not sound that cool, but when you hit the ice with your paddle the singular ice crystals would pop up out of the water and create super awesome towers. It was simply one of the coolest things I had ever seen. I went back and got Jaci and we spent hours whacking the ice and delighting in the results. It was like kayaking through a giant slushy.

Now, throughout the year, I would tell the story of the magic ice to people, and I would whip out my phone and show them the video of it and they would almost always say the same thing “I wonder if that’s something that normally occurs or if it was something truly unique?” Which, I have to admit, I thought to myself at the time of discovery. I mean, how cool would it be if we were the only ones who had ever seen that phenomena before?!?  The naturalist/scientists/discoverer in me had a solution to this. Why, we’ll just go back again a year later and see if it happens again. So, we did….

Unfortunately, This year’s trip up wasn’t as rewarding. After getting stuck in the snow on the way we finally reached the lake only to be greeted by nothing but ice. We knew it was much colder this Spring and we budgeted in an extra week before we went back, but sadly the lake and the magic ice still wasn’t ready. We arrived to a solid lake, frozen (almost) all the way to the shore. There was no way to get a boat into the water. That didn’t stop us from spending some time exploring along the shore line and witnessing a new phenomenon that was pretty cool… behold:

My theory is that even though the layer of ice was the size of the lake, it was free from the shore line and therefore floating on top of the water. The entire sheet of ice was bobbing up and down very subtly and creating the illusion that the water was draining out of the lake and then filling up again. It really did look like the lake was breathing and was completely hypnotizing.

Our quest to find the magic ice wasn’t a total failure though. We did discover that the ice crystals were there, they were just still too frozen together to create the magic pop. I think a couple more weeks and we’ll be in business.

I’ll be sure to let you know the results.

Until next time!

I was floating on my brand new kayak out on Pactola yesterday.