Skip to main content

An ice blast from the past

An old photo of mine was selected as the January picture for this year's Chesapeake Paddler's Assocation Calendar. Reprinted here is Susanita's excellent write-up of our trip that day:
Post subject: Mason Neck Trip Report -- December 30, 2004
http://members.bellatlantic.net/~jaronson/pirates/MasonNeck123004_005.JPG

How much would you bid for a hundred dollars?

I'm hacking away at yet another layer of ice with a three foot piece of wood I've scavenged from the shore when I hear my paddling partner, Jesse calling my name from his kayak. He's just launched and is moving slowly in the water. As I turn to towards his voice I feel my mouth drop. I can't believe how far away he is. I have hacked my way through ice clearly 300 yards from shore. I can just barely make out the image as he begins to paddle through the ice. But I can clearly hear the crunch of ice meeting fiberglass.

http://members.bellatlantic.net/~jaronson/pirates/MasonNeck123004_000.JPG

What were we thinking? Minutes before Jesse and I had been hacking away at the ice together. In between conversations about Christmas, the tsunami, and Alias ( my new favorite tv show), Jesse shares with me this story. A group of executives has gone to a training conference. As part of the training they are told to 'bid' on a $100 bill. The trick is that if you don't win the bid you are forced the pay the value of your last bid. How much would you bid to 'win' a $100 bill? The executive who won bid $200. The point of the exercise was to show how easily people can get caught up in competition. The need to win.

************************************

Why would anyone spend over an hour breaking up an ice jam just to go kayaking? Was it perseverance or sheer stubbornness? It was 10 a.m. when Jesse and I met at Mason Neck State Park. I met him at his car and told him we may have a little problem with the launch. It was covered with ice. We walk to the beach to assess the ice. There is what looks like a 20 foot swath of ice blocking the beach from the open water. Beyond the ice we can see the glimmer of water. As it turns out, that glimmer would be a mirage. It is high tide and the water has spilled over the ice creating the illusion of moving water. And all I can think is, "It's my birthday and I want to go kayaking."

http://members.bellatlantic.net/~jaronson/pirates/MasonNeck123004_003.JPG


"Oh c'mon Jesse," I plead. "It's just a little ice."

He looks around and grabs a stick and throws it across the ice. It skids for what seems like forever and finally stops, never breaking the ice.

"Try a rock," I say. "The stick was too light."

He hunts around the beach for a rock. He throws the rock across the ice and mercifully it breaks the ice and sinks to the bottom. We exchange glances and smiles.

"Yeah," he says. "I could just plow right through with my kayak."

Yes! We're not going to let a little ice stop us.

"I'll go first," he says. "I know how you are about your boat."

Jesse hasn't known me that long but it doesn't take long to figure out that I am very particular about my boat. Anyone who meets me has to hear about how I came to buy the Mirage 530 with the custom purple fade and integrated rudder. How I talked for weeks with the designer of the Mirage in Australia. How nice the Aussie accent was to hear at 2 am in the morning. How I had the boat custom painted then shipped to L.A. then picked it up at customs. How it only weighs 40 lbs even with the electric bilge pump. How it's made of kevlar and cost about $1000. And now I'm thinking of putting my precious Purple Mirage in a bed of ice! Oh, how I was wishing I had a plastic boat.

We zip into our drysuits and carry the kayaks down to the ice. Jesse courageously launches into the ice with greenland paddle in hand. He pushes off and his kayak hits the first wave of ice.

Crunch. The sound of ice crushing against his boat sends a chill up my spine. I look at my Mirage and think of how I'd feel if it was crunching in the ice. I also realize he's not going anywhere. So I race into the water and start breaking it up with my foot. Like I said earlier. It?' my birthday and I want to be kayaking. I'm making good progress and we agree that the ice can't be that thick or go too far into the bay. We can see clear water ahead. So with each step I crunch down on the ice, breaking a path that Jesse follows in his kayak. Then the ice gets thicker and my boot lands on the ice with a thud. I bring my foot up higher and try hitting it harder. It's not working. I glance back at Jesse sitting patiently in his boat.

http://members.bellatlantic.net/~jaronson/pirates/MasonNeck123004_002.JPG


"I'll get a stick," I say. "This ice is a little thicker." I run back to shore and search around for a stick. I find a long spear like stick and wade back through the broken ice to where I left off. The stick works. The ice is breaking up now. We can see the glimmer of water not far ahead.

"Just 10 more feet," Jesse says. "And we'll be in open water." At this point he decides it will be quicker if he breaks the ice too. So he gets out of his boat and goes back to shore for another stick.

We break through the ice section by section. The ice is now almost 2 inches thick. We reach the section which is covered in water and realize we're not even close to being free. But now we have time and effort invested. We look out at the water ahead of us and agree that the ice can't go on forever. I'm sweating and cold at the same time. I have three layers of clothing on underneath the drysuit but my feet are like ice cubes. If anything, we agree that this is a good test for the drysuit. We continue working never looking back.

After a while Jesse leaves to get his kayak that he left near shore. Standing in frigid water up to my waist surrounded by a flotilla of ice chunks, my feet numb from the cold, I stare determinedly at the remaining ice that stands before me and the clear moving water. How far would you go to break through ice just so you can go kayaking? It looks like my limit is about 300 yards. Or is it? I'm still hacking away when Jesse paddles up beside me. He continues ahead breaking through the next section of ice. I hear the crunch of resistance from the ice but it breaks easily and pretty soon he is out in open water. It's 11:30 and we're finally going kayaking!

http://members.bellatlantic.net/~jaronson/pirates/MasonNeck123004_001.JPG

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Apostle Islands: Gordon Lightfoot Warned Us

This entry is part of my write-up of a September 2024 trip to The Apostle Islands. The story begins  here . Thursday 9/5 Thursday morning we drove the roughly 20 minutes to our launch point at Little Sand Bay in The Apostle Islands National Lakeshore. Upon our arrival we were met by Ranger Angel (it makes sense that the Apostles have a guardian Angel, right?), who directed us as to where to launch, checked our permits, gave us useful information about the weather, and told us how to describe our location ifwe needed to call 911 (!). She also gave us a once-over and declared that we appeared to be "shipshape". It is not her responsibility to evaluate people's ability to paddle in the open waters of Lake Superior, but by her own admission if she detects that people don't have the appropriate skills or preparation, she'll gently steer them to safer courses of action.   Loading the kayaks at Little Sand Bay Many people are familiar with Gordon Lightfoot's song The...
Post a Comment
Read more

Visiting Charles in Upstate New York

Looking back, growing up I was friends with a lot of the weird kids. It makes me think - maybe I was a weird kid too? Let's table that line of thought for now, but along those lines, let me tell you about my friend Charles, who was a textbook example of ADHD before ADHD was even in the textbook.  For the record, ADHD was added to the American Psychiatric Association's Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Psychiatric Disorders (DSM) in 1968. Coincidentally, that's the same year Charles and I met, and yes, he's an ADHD dude. A smart kid, he nonetheless never paid attention in class and typically spent class reading a comic book he had hidden inside whatever book we were supposed to be reading - when he even bothered to sit in his seat and pretend to pay attention. During our college years Charles attended something of a party school, where he focused more on party than school. As a live-at-home commuter student, I loved that I could visit Charles and get a taste of the ov...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Guilty Pleasure

I have to admit that I feel guilty doing it. It's just not something that people like me do. In fact, I have spent years looking down on people who do it. I'm talking about powersports. Activities which involve using a motor to have fun. I have always been a people-powered person. On the water I scowl at jet skiers and water ski boats. On the cross-country ski trails I shake my head at people who ruin the pristine winter wilderness with snowmobiles. Being something of a car guy, I go a little easier on the pleasures of motorized vehicles on land. I don't expect car owner to be a super-miler in a Prius, but I also give a pretty wide berth to ATVs and dirt bikes. But now I'm motorcycling. Over the summer I fulfilled a "bucket list" item by learning to ride a motorcycle (Valerie took the class too). For the last month or so I've been tooling around on a borrowed Kawasaki Vulcan cruiser, and I must say I'm enjoying it. Riding a motorcycle is ridiculous...
Post a Comment
Read more