Paddles up: adventure on the Okatoma

Published 11:36 am Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Let me say early on that if you don’t enjoy the outdoors or possess instant recall of song lyrics from the ‘70s, you may want to skip this column. Try a syndicated one instead.

If, on the other hand, you’ve learned quite enough about Washington and could stand hearing about a (mis)adventure a little closer to home, keep reading, especially since National Canoe Day is this Friday.

What, you didn’t know about National Canoe Day?

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Me either, but judging by the crowd at Sanford’s Okatoma Outdoor Post last Saturday, the sport has plenty of enthusiasts, who, like us, evidently think a regular work week isn’t tiring enough. No, we all need to spend several hours paddling canoes on the weekend, too, in order to experience complete exhaustion. Or perhaps there’s more to it.

Travel reporter Farwell Forrest describes mini-adventures like those on the Okatoma as the escape clause in life’s contract of obligations. “It’s adventure on your terms, close to home and on the cheap,” he writes. “But it’s real-life adventure nonetheless, a leap into the unknown with all that involves.”

Sounds pretty good except for the unknown part, which I learned more about during my husband’s pre-paddling preparations. “See, this watertight bag still comes in handy,” Canoe King told me, filling it with sunscreen and a first aid kit. I knew we’d need sunscreen, but a first aid kit?

“In case a copperhead drops down from a branch and lands on us,” he replied. “Or someone splits their foot wide open on a rock. Or – ”

“I get it,” I murmured, “I get it.”

Moments later we shoved off, with his “left, hard left,” punctuating the air. It is good to know one’s place in the grand scheme of things, especially in a canoe, so I held down the bow with the seriousness of Sacagawea. After all, Canoe King and I both understood we had something to prove. At the end of the day, our performance must leave no doubt that we still had it.

It?

Yep, IT – the ability to keep up with our children, who, by the way, had no heavy coolers in their canoes.

Son No. 1 and his wife took a confident lead, due, I’m sure, to experience gained from far too many similar excursions as college students. The other pair present, newlyweds, were fearless, fresh from a cave-tubing experience in Belize. Our youngest and her BFF had youth on their side, and as for the Marine-to-be in the kayak — let’s just say he graciously held back.

After successfully navigating the first set of strong currents, though, Canoe King decided to serenade me. There under a canopy of overhanging tree limbs, with shards of sunlight dancing on the water like a disco ball, he gave me a blast from the past.

“Rock the boat (don’t rock the boat, Baby),” came his sweet tenor from the stern. “Rock the boat -”

“Don’t tip the boat over,” I couldn’t help myself.

The music propelled us past the pack at rare times, and I’m sure the hipsters were impressed by Canoe King’s “so I’d like to know where you got the notion” and my “don’t rock the boat, Baby” answering echo. Or maybe not.

Anyway, the day allowed us to test a behavioral economics theory I read about that says canoe trips are a good indicator of a relationship’s health. How so? They afford opportunities to shift blame for things that go wrong, like paddling into branches and flipping on rapids.

It’s true. Gliding down a river at a speed of three miles per hour doesn’t just let you soak in sights you simply can’t see from a car (“keep yo trash” signs and tattoos with illegible Latin references); it can also expose what’s on the inside in a most surprising way.

So from our vantage point on the Okatoma there at fifth out of five crafts afloat, two things became very obvious to Canoe King and me. First, kids these days have no appreciation for disco classics. Absolutely zilch. And second, our family, appropriately and symbolically, is no longer in the same boat. The new branches are each paddling their own canoes, and I think even Sacagawea, if she were here, would have to agree — they’re managing quite nicely.

 

Wesson resident Kim Henderson is a freelance writer who writes for The Daily Leader. Contact her at kimhenderson319@gmail.com.