 Kayaking from Otter Cove to Sadie Cove and back August 2021 I spent this past summer flying from one remote worksite to the other with little time off to play. Capitalizing on the season’s cooperative weather, each site worked hard on projects that winter storms otherwise place on lockdown. But between my month long assignment at Indian Mountain and another six weeks at Utqiagvik, I managed a few days stay in my favorite coastal town. Renting a corner room on the second floor of a 1941 Inn, I snuggle up against soft pillows and listen to the sounds and watch the undulating motion of the Bay from the cozy warmth of my bed. I stroll the boardwalks, buy a charcoal colored fisherman’s sweater, dine on fish-n-chips and collect rocks and shells from the beach. Feeling the summer a waste without experiencing something that stirs my blood, I board a 28’ Bayweld landing craft and taxi across Kachemak Bay. Upon reaching my destination, I nestle down into the cockpit of a Looksha, secure the skirt and paddle off across salubrious water. I gently apply the blades starboard and then port as I slice through the water along the shores edge of Otter Cove taking photos and alternately chatting and listening to the relative silence and the sounds of nature. We reach Sadie Cove and pull our kayaks up onto shore and lunch and explore the area. But when an ominous sky rolls in bringing with it a light drizzle and a breeze that moves over the surface of the Bay, we set off and paddle, what feels a long distance, back to Otter Cove. I apply force as I plunge the blades port and then starboard as I rise and fall with the growing waves. The rudder requires more finesse to keep the stern steady than my casual foot play did when we started out. Arriving wet and tired and sore and happy, We carry our Looksha's up the beach and store them under the deck. And I settle back into the cabin of the Bayweld and taxi toward Homer, a hot shower and an evening of fine dining. Life is so very good.
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 Life is tenacious; it works its way through the charred remains in search of the light. We take over four glorious hours to hike six miles in the Skilak area. I recall the worry I felt at running into bear in the dense forrest last I traversed the Upper to the Lower Kenai River Trail with my children when they were still in grade school. In 2019, the Swan Lake fire, which burned from June 5 up past September 30, ravaged just over 167,000 acres of the Kenai National Wildlife Refuge. This once densely wooded playground is now charred. The blackened remains of the trees that use to grace the Ridgeline of the Upper Kenai River Trail now provide an open view of the winding river and Skilak Lake. In spite of the damage left in the wake of the flames, new life and the unscathed old as well as the sun’s reflective light grace our day with beauty. At trail’s end, we drive up to Cooper Landing and reward our efforts with dinner at Gwin’s Lodge before our evening’s drive home. |
AuthorI credit my love of the outdoors to two major influences: Dad and Aunt Jan. Archives
October 2024
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