Skip to main content

Clearwater Trip Day 3

I'm always amazed at how well I can sleep in a tent. I wake up feeling pretty refreshed despite having gotten up briefly a couple of times during the night. I'm glad it's early. The event camping area has inadequate facilities (two sinks, two toilets, and two urinals for about 100 tents worth of campers) and I want to get washed up before it gets crowded. As I bruch my teeth, one of the guitarists I played with at the previous evening's jam session ambles up to the other sink. As we wash and chat a line begins to form behind us. Without warning, the guy lifts one of his feet into the sink and starts scrubbing it. "Mulberries," he explains. "I walked through a bunch of them barefoot last night and now my feet are all purple." He washes one dirty purple foot, then the other, oblivious to the line of people behind him waiting to do things like brush their teeth at that sink. I make a note to use only the left-hand sink for the remainder of my stay.

It's pretty early and so I do have time for kayaking before the festival starts. I drive down to the car-top boat launch and spend a nice couple of hours paddling around Croton Point. The Hudson scenery is pretty awesome. The river, even up here, is quite wide with high bluffs on the western shore. On the way back I stop at the festival's "working waterfront" area to do some rolling practice. After a while I'm joined by another guy. He's paddling a recreational kayak - sort of a low end thing - and makes a number of attempts to roll, failing and wet exiting each time. The first time I see him struggling I paddle over and put my boat's bow near him so he can do a bow rescue. It turns out, however, that he's never heard of this technique. The only way he knows to get back into his boat is a mad cowboy scramble from the stern. As we talk he tells me that he's planning to travel by kayak from his home in New Jersey to Baltimore to visit his brother. He says he's got the route all worked out. I expect we'll be hearing more from this plucky young fellow - most likely in the next volume of Sea Kayaker's cautionary "Deep Trouble" books.

About noontime I head over to the main stage and stake out a spot with my chair and raincoat. I then make a bee-line to the dance tent to hear more zydeco. Today it's C.J. Chenier, who is a close friend ... well, I once rode in an elevator with him. I'm taking mental notes as I watch - my klezmer trio is scheduled to play the dance tent at the Takoma Park Folk Festival in September. I meet up with Sherry and Ken (and briefly, my DC kayaker friend Matt). As we're heading back to the main stage at the end of Chenier's set the heavens open up with a summer thunderstorm. Between Sherry's umbrella and my raincoat we get only partly drenched as we watch the band Donna the Buffalo. The rain does help cool things off a little, which is good as I stay largely rooted in place for the next couple of acts: Joan Osborne, then Shawn Colvin (I do take time off to get another delicious felafel .. worth the 30 minute wait). I also browsed the Activist Area, but stopped myself from engaging the folks at the "Israel out of Gaza" and "Close Indian Point Nuclear Power Station" booths. Didn't feel like ruining my good mood by picking arguments with these folks. But it made me realize where the lefty orthodoxy is these days.

I had decided that morning to drive home Sunday rather than stay over another night. I had already broken camp and my gear was in the car, so at the end of Shawn Colvin's set I bid Sherry and Ken adieu and got on the road. They were incredulous that I wouldn't stay for David Bromberg, but I'm not a big fan. Likewise, I couldn't believe that they were totally unfamiliar with Shawn Colvin, who is in my opinion an amazingly talented singer-songwriter.

A leisurely drive down the Hudson through Sleepy Hollow and Tarrytown, over the Tappan Zee Bridge (it never occurred to me growing up that it was unusual how many things in NY had Dutch names), and then a Starbucks-fueled dash down the Garden State Parkway and I95, and I found myself home again.

Note that there's no mention of Charles and Lori in today's write-up. They made it back to the festival but I never saw them - they spent all day at the beach and kids activities and we never met up. I was bummed about that.

All in all, a really enjoyable weekend. I'm already scheming how to do it again next year and maybe entice some of my family members to come along.
Labels:

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