Life should be one adventure after another. If not, you’ve lived too long.
Whenever I become too mellow, my heart yearns and yearns for adventure.
You take the high road and I’ll take the high road. Okay you take the low road and I’ll take the high road. Well, if you insist, you take the high road and I’ll take the low road. As long as we take to the road and start moving.
The above quotes represent some of Eric Soares’ thoughts on adventure. Life with him was pretty much non-stop. If we weren’t kayaking or exploring the hinterlands, we were sitting around, martinis in hand, “talking deep philosophy” (his phrase) and planning our next move. I’ve always shared Eric’s wanderlust. Now that he is gone, my heart still yearns for adventure. And as Thomas Mann reminds us, “Space, like time engenders forgetfulness…Time, we say, is Lethe; but change of air is a similar draught, and, if it works less thoroughly, does so more quickly.” (From The Magic Mountain.)
Introduction
On Monday, June 11, I tied my Tsunami X-15 onto my truck and set off for adventure. One of my goals was to establish myself as a kayaker even though my kayaking partner is gone. In 16 years I don’t think I ever went out on the ocean without Eric. All that has changed. Another goal was to reconnect with old friends and meet new ones. First stop, Marna Powell’s place. Marna owns KayakZak’s, an outfitter in Orick, California. When Eric died, she friended me on Facebook. She told me how one time she saw Eric’s slide show and was psyched to discover that she could do the same things in the ocean, i.e. play in rocks and surf, as she did kayaking in rivers. Whitewater is whitewater after all. She offered me a place to stay if I was ever passing through. This offer as well as a phone call from Connie Taylor who lives in Elk south of Orick moved me to get movin’. Here is a brief logbook of my journey.
Logbook, Day 1
Drove Highway 199 to Crescent City. Continued south along the coast to Prairie Creek Redwoods. Stopped to hike Ossagon Trail to beach. Ubiquitous ferns, and ancient redwoods like tall, silent witnesses. Green light filtering through old growth. A bird call that sounded like a ray gun – one long high-pitched note, then silence, and then again at broken intervals. A pair of elk at the beach. Long stretches of gray sand fading away into fog. On the way back, startled a large flock of band-tailed pigeons and kept flushing them, wings clattering in the echoing forest. No people. Atmosphere felt strange, otherworldly. Then down the road to Orick where I met up with Marna at her home. Cool kayak henge at gate. Great conversation as we got to know one another. Martinis, hers with jalapeno-stuffed olives, mine with a Meyer lemon twist. Excellent albacore salad with greens from her garden. Beautiful guest room – lovely quilt made by her mom.
Logbook, Day 2
Off to Trinidad to meet Rebekah Kakuk at the Beachcomber Café, but she didn’t bring her boat. Dang! Water glassy. No wind. Instead of paddling we walked down to the cliff top and sat in the sun and talked. Haven’t seen her much since she and Jim split, and it was good to get together. Drove south to Eureka to meet Jim – lunch with him and Rebekah at Gallagher’s. After some consideration decided (partly on Jim’s advice) to take the coast highway instead of 101 to Elk. Jim recommended McKerricher State Park where I was lucky enough to get a site without a reservation. Great campground. Went for a long walk along the coastal bluffs. Stunningly beautiful rock gardens. Was serenaded by a white-crowned sparrow that sang for me from about 4 feet away, completely unafraid. At night, beautiful stars once the fog rolled back.
Logbook, Day 3
Next morning was sunny, so I repeated my walk of the previous day and took more pics. Checkerspot butterfly allowed me to approach within inches and observe. Like the sparrow, a letter from emptiness. Drove from McKerricher to Elk about an hour away. Stopped at Caspar Beach, a nice protected little cove where I encountered a Liquid Fusion vehicle parked on the roadside. Cate Hawthorne and Jeff Laxier were surfing and I took some pics but did not hail them as I was running late.
Andy and Connie Taylor live on a ridge about 4 miles in from the coast. Beautiful medicinal and kitchen gardens. They are growing shiitake mushrooms on tan oak rounds under the house. Venison tacos for lunch with greens from the garden and chipotle sauce. I hadn’t seen Andy for years, so it was nice to catch up. Eric was right; Connie and I have a lot in common. Even though I’d never met her, we were friends right away. Because she lost her first husband, Storm Sea King Steve Sinclair back when Eric and I were first together, we had a lot to say to each other. Steve and Eric were much alike. For some time I have felt that this place was an important destination on my spiritual map as I journey through the bereavement process. I was right. Hung out alone on the beach in the evening, then dinner of fried eggs (from their own hens) and more venison with beans, avocado and cheese. Yum. The whites of the eggs were nice and fluffy, like a meringue. For cocktails, I made my special martinis.
Logbook, Day 4
Next morning Connie served me home-made kombucha. Had planned to go kayaking, and the previous day we had checked out the inventory at the kayak guide shop that used to belong to Force 10, which Connie sold some time ago. It was great to see all the old, beat-up Tsunami boats and we picked a couple to take out. I wanted to see the cave under the cemetery at Cuffy’s Cove where Eric and the Rangers used to go, but NOAA forecasted 13-foot swells at 9 seconds and 20 – 30 knot winds with 40-knot gusts. We didn’t go. Connie and I spent the morning in the garden. Transformational. Kayaking would have been great, but that morning spent talking and watering the garden was special. Now that I’m home I feel like I was transported to a magical land, sought healing, found it, and was sent back to present myself to the powers that be, ready for duty. On my way back north camped at Patrick’s Point. Lucked out and got a great campsite and was serenaded again, this time by a song sparrow that appeared to consider my site his personal space. Took a long hike along the rim trail. Impressive rock formations, wild ocean and beautiful Sitka spruce and Douglas fir plantations.
Logbook, Day 5
Next morning met Rebekah again in Trinidad about 6 miles away. This time she brought a boat, a little Tsunami X-7 that used to belong to Tsunami Ranger Misha Dynnikov. Had a great time paddling around the sea stacks behind Trinidad Head. Landed on a beach about ¾ of a mile to the south and looked for agate and jasper. Played on the sea stacks and she let me try the X-7, a little play boat which was hella squirrely. Unfortunately, the foot wells were too long for my short legs, and since the boat has no rudder I had to maintain a straight course by hitching my hips hard from side to side as I paddled while wedging with my thighs. It was fun, but the boat is definitely not designed for long paddles. The wind picked up on our way back to the put-in and things got kind of exciting but we made it back feeling like we got a good workout. Made some plans for kayaking together in the future, especially up the Oregon coast. Thinking about doing the Tsunami Retreat in August with Rebekah in a Tsunami Trident. As a parting gift she gave me a Tibetan prayer rug as a seat cover for my truck. Love it! Drove home in brilliant sunshine, surrounded by the scent of roses from two buds Connie had given me to perfume the cab of my truck.
Conclusions
Several very positive things came out of this trip. One, I met Marna Powell and was able to put a face to the name of my new friend in the kayaking community. Also, Marna gave me an idea. She told me that when she first saw Eric’s slide show and wanted to start paddling rock gardens and surf, there was no one in her community to team up with. So she started teaching people to do the things she wanted to do. This gave me the idea of teaching my friend Lissa Roberts to kayak. Lissa lives in Ashland and is a hardcore athlete (backcountry skiing, climbing, backpacking, yoga, etc.) She has expressed an interest in going kayaking with me, and now I am determined to get her into a boat.
Two, I had a really great paddle at Trinidad. I got to reconnect with Rebekah and we agreed to be paddling partners since she no longer has Jim and I no longer have Eric. This could be really good for both of us. Plus I talked to Rebekah about it, and she has a lot of extra equipment and a couple of boats, so together she and I should be able to outfit Lissa quite well. Look out, coast!
Three, I got to see where Andy and Connie Taylor live and finally got to meet Connie after all these years. As I suspected she was a very important person for me to talk to at this time in my life. I am reminded of the cartoons one sees of the person climbing the mountain top to see the old wise man. Except this time the wise one is a woman who makes her own bread and yogurt, a mom who sweeps her floor and pulls weeds in her garden. She too can be a paddling partner. Even though we weren’t able to go out together this trip, there will be other opportunities. I’ll be back.
So my desire to find my kayaking chops and to connect was successful. In fact, when I contacted Liquid Fusion to find out who the surfers were at Caspar Beach, Cate Hawthorne told me to let her know next time I’m down that way. Another connection! Moreover, this was a scouting trip. I learned where Marna, Rebekah, and the Taylors live. I drove down a section of the Pacific coast I haven’t seen in years and located a lot of good kayaking and camping spots. I got on the water only once, but it was somewhere I had never been and we had a really good day. I made plans to come back in the future, and to explore the Oregon coast as well.
Even more important, this trip was a pilgrimage. As I drove along Highway 1, I stopped from time to time to look out at the sea stacks and rock gardens. I knew that Eric had travelled this coastline many times in his kayaking career. I thought about how he must have stood at many of the same places I stood, scouting the coastline, wanting to do more than just stand on the bluffs looking down, wanting to be out on the ocean with the waves and rocks where everything is happening. In fact, I knew that Eric and the Tsunami Rangers had paddled at both McKerricher and Patrick’s Point State Parks and that’s one of the reasons I wanted to stay at those places. And while I too had paddled with Eric in these parts, I was thinking of a more distant time in the mid-80’s when Eric had just met Steve Sinclair and the Tsunami Rangers were just getting started.
Eric wanted to do things no one else had done in the sea kayaking world, so he made connections and formed friendships that supported him in his endeavor. Following his example, now I’m doing the same: making connections, forming friendships, and scouting the waves. Whereas Eric was a stud in his 30’s, I am a 54-year old widow. My friends aren’t young, strong men; they’re middle-aged women suffering the physical consequences of a lifetime of athletic activity. But the principle is the same. I still want to go out and kayak the Tsunami way as best I can at this time of my life with my friends.
Got any advice for a wave widow? Click on the button below.
That sounds like a perfect journey. Its purpose reminded me of the Sierra trips I took solo backpacking the summer I quit my job to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Was that really 35 years ago?? The backpack got replaced by the kayak (the ultimate backpack) and then expedition trips got fewer when my paddling partner got serious about his saxophone and preferred the local surf for kayaking. I put the pack back on for quite a few years. Now my journey is without a pack and no longer in a boat either and I am wondering where it will go. I’m ready, just like you are, to see where.
Thanks for your comment, June. Yes, the sense of time passed is weird. Everything seems compressed.
Steve King told me that when his friend lost his wife he said his life was like a white board. I just watched Kenneth Branagh’s film about Hamlet and was struck by this quote: “There’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, ’tis not to come; if it be not to come it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all.” I feel like a great big radar screen, scanning the universe for the next thing.
Thanks for sharing your wonderful trip. I spent half my life in California. Fort Bragg was one of my favorite spots. I never got to really explore the far northern California coast, but hope to do so. I noticed one of the kayaks was a sit on top. I don’t have a “sea kayak” or a roll. Wondering if a sit in sea kayak is a must for the rock gardens. I will need some training and a guide. I am 67, so time is getting short! Recently did some white water in a ducky on the Pigeon River in North Carolina. My favorite spot ,here in the Midwest, is the Apostle Islands.
Hi Ron! Thanks for reading and posting your comment. All Tsunami boats are sit on tops because that suits our style of kayaking best. I don’t have a roll either and honestly, I’ve never really worried about it. When Eric got me kayaking 16 years ago the first thing he taught me was how to tip over, fall out, and get back in super fast. For my level of kayaking, that has always worked fine. I’m a good swimmer, and Eric taught me that kayaking his way is as much about being in the water as out of it. I would be a better surfer if I had a roll but….oh well. However, plenty of people I know are using sit inside kayaks for rock gardening too. As far as training and a guide you could contact either Marna Powell at KayakZak’s.com or Cate Hawthorne at Liquid Fusion. They’re right there on the coast and I’m sure could help you out. Happy paddling!
Great article! Back in 1998, I had to find a way to continue the adventure. I had been spearfishing since 1965, and had been supplying several families with a years supply of fish. Then, commercial fishermen started looking at the tautog, which constituted the bulk of the fish I caught (along with the occasional striper and bluefish). They started catching tautog in traps, and shipping them live to Japan. The population of tautog decreased severely…my estimate was that stocks were down to less than 10% of what they had been, at least in the spots I was familiar with. The state responded with limits on catches, both for commercial and recreational categories. It was a sad time for me, but I had to wholeheartedly agree with the limits. But I had the problem, what would replace all the adventures I had in the ocean? Kayaking was a natural fit. And since I tended to like to kayak where I had spearfished (around rocks, in surf and current), I was drawn to extreme sea kayaking, and quickly purchased Eric and Michael’s book on the subject as soon as I saw it. I now have 3 Tsunami kayaks, and even though I have other kayaks I sometimes use for bay touring, etc., the type of kayaking I do in the Tsunamis (surfing, rock gardens, open coast touring) is my favorite.
Well, I still spearfish, but much less, as the regulations are still in force…and gladly, they seem to be working, as I see greater numbers of tautog each year. But they are a slow-growing fish, and still need more time to get back to where they were years ago. So I’m doing a lot of kayaking (average about three times a week, year round), and a little spearfishing.
I really enjoyed all the photos, especially the ones with Tsunami kayaks…the only time I see them in Rhode Island is when it’s one of mine!
Tony
What a great story, Tony! It’s good to know that the limits placed on catches can work. I’ve heard so much about the depletion of species on both the East and West coast; it can get depressing but then you hear the success stories and it just feels great. The salmon are rebounding in the Northwest as well, partially due to the dam removals that have been going on. Also, I love it that you’re from Rhode Island – my family moved there from Salem in the 1600’s, believe it or not! My grandfather was from Woonsocket. I never thought about kayaking there, but it’s good to know there are opportunities. Maybe some day I’ll go back and check out the old hometown and the kayaking too. Glad you enjoyed the photos:)
Thanks for the post Nancy! I am jealous of your outing, it sounds like it was way cool. And the picture of that weathered Tsunami boat for rent? Hells yes I am going to next time I am in the area! 😉
Ed
Ed, you should totally go to Elk. The coastline there is amazing. I kept thinking about how many of those rock gardens have probably never seen a kayak – there are so many great spots. And those old Tsunamis are weathered but they’re tried and true. The outfitters have an Odyssea surf ski as well, one of Steve Sinclair’s old boats. I probably won’t be going back down that way until next year, but I’m thinking about making it an annual pilgrimage.
Nancy, Sounds like may of the trips Eric and I would take along the coast. Just traveling along visiting friends, camping and kayaking when it looked good. How many new friends were made and adventures we found along is what made those times so special. It is the basis of the small boat tribal culture we share.
Jim, I thought about you both a lot on that trip. I felt Eric’s presence strongly – especially when I stopped at a turn out to look at the coastline. Those old times seemed very close.
Advice for the wave widow? You’re doing it – connecting with like-minded folk, adventuring, and planning the next adventure. Let’s plan an adventure soon!!! Cate
Cate, I’m in! My next adventure will be the Tsunami retreat in August, but I’m thinking about heading down that way again in September. I’d love to surf Caspar – what a great spot. We’ll keep in touch. Thanks for your comment:)
I couldn’t agree more that you had a wonderful trip. I wish I would’ve joined you then. I adore all those strength, passion, and determination that keeps you going, Eric did live in your heart.
Kayak Expert, thanks so much for your kind words! Feel free to call me any time you’re up this way – in my opinion adventures for the most part are more fun when shared:)
Keep moving Nancy, that’s the answer, just don’t let your kayak hit the road, or Jack for that matter. Enjoyed the report. Liked the gardening update. I’ve been growing a beautiful small garden myself with a heavy emphasis on produce, though it looks like my wife may not make it through the summer now given the treatments for cancer are failing. Such an emotional drain seeing this unfold as it intrudes into daily reality, though I stay tender and attentive as best I can.
I hope your journey into the gentle light of day and new adventures, and your new sense of expectation carry you to new places and spaces full of joy. I will follow you in due time. To those of you out there taking life and love for granted, please, please – from the bottom of my being, don’t squander the days…
Hi Doug, it’s good to hear from you. I’m doing my best not to let anything of mine hit the road except my tire tread;) Gardening is a major hobby of mine. It’s very soothing, don’t you think? I’ve been considering growing the mushrooms myself – there was an article in the paper recently on doing that and it looks pretty easy. You can get the spores online.
My thoughts are with both you and your wife. One of my greatest consolations after Eric died was knowing I had no regrets. I told him I loved him every day of his life, many times. It probably sounds ridiculous, but I even addressed him formally at times, “Oh my husband and oh the delight of my eyes…” but I meant it even though we both laughed. We did not squander our days, and boy am I glad.
“‘ So we beat on, boats against the current , borne back ceaselessly into the past ”
F.Scott Fitzgerald
The Great Gatsby
Just realised how much I like this quote.
Life is such a journey of learning and every day there’s a new page to turn.
Thanks for sharing your story. Some of the coastal pics look like the black and white ones in my old tattered Tsunami Rangers Adventures in my book shelf.
Davo, what a lovely quote! It’s been years since I read that book – I never would have remembered. Thanks for reading and thanks for your comment.
Nancy, thanks for sharing your trip (actually it sounds a bit more like a spiritual journey). You write beautifully and the combination of words and stunning pictures you chose had me just aching to visit all those special places. One of the things I find so wonderful about the natural world, especially the “knock-your-socks-off” locations is that they speak volumes – all you have to do is listen. I’ve taken the great vacuum of sorrow into the wild many times and emerged filled with wonder; from what I can gather, you’ve done the same.
Moulton, it was a great trip! I also realized with a sense of relief that I can still have adventures. And even though I know that nature is supposedly indifferent to the fate of us mortals, in the wild I usually feel surrounded by love.
Hello Nancy, enjoyed reading your journey on the Mendo coast (as well as the southern Humboldt hike), paddling, connecting with new and old friends and especially memories. Eric, Jim and the Rangers, Steve and the boys at Elk and of course the Bozos are all permanent residents in my memory whenever I think of that coast. As you note, those early years in the 80s are most special, as we created our tribes and discovered what was possible in our little boats. Keep at it as long as you possibly can, even if only in memory, Banzai Bozo
Hey Bozo, soooooo good to hear from you. I will definitely keep at it as long as I can, as long as I have breath in my body if possible. Still planning new adventures and interestingly enough, another trip down that way coming up soon. Glad you enjoyed the post and thank you very very much for your comment – it came at a timely moment. Hope all is well.