A long day out…

It was only two months since we paddled through Patagonian seas, but two months off the water felt like a lifetime. The weeble that I am (with no muscles that work below the chest) felt very wobbly as I nosed my way out of the jetty in Laide – a west coast Scottish village, its sands gleaming in the rare sun. Within the first kilometre, my back support had slipped down and I watched Andy, the not-so-long-ago novice kayaker, skilfully powering his way into the distance.

 

We reached a rocky point, and I was surprised how fast we were covering ground. But rounding the corner, a series of headlands fingered into the horizon, telling me I’m got it all wrong. I’d been forcing the coastline to fit the map. We’d only done 5 km, so there was still a long long way to go.

 

“Andy, I think we should turn round”
“What for? Let’s carry on”

I should have insisted, persuaded him otherwise, pointed out we’d be there at sunset, if we were lucky. But it was windy, and I was too tired to debate. So we paddled on.

 

Tendonitis from the Patagonian paddling adventure kicked back in, and my wrist creaked with each stroke into the wind.

At the next headland,

“Andy, can you put me on tow?” I needed to ease my wrist.

At the next headland.

“We’ve only done 10km? Still 25 to go?”

On we went, eager for the kilometres, straight-lining from point to point, no time to explore and enjoy. The sun sank low. We paddled faster, chasing the headlands before dusk ate them up.

Lured by the day’s bright sun, it had been easy to forget it was still March, the air still raw with winter, the water icy cold, that darkness came fast.

 

In Loch Ewe, we paddled exhausted in darkness, towards shore-side silhouettes, eager for a place to land…too tired to appreciate the stillness of evening, too numbed from straight-lining the day. It had been a long day out.

 

The best parts of being out adventuring are exploring, noticing, enjoying good friends, and having good times. Quality not quantity…sometimes its good to turn around.