CalActive.com Activities Blog

This morning we went out kayaking in Laguna Beach (Thalia Beach to be specific), and what a perfect day it worked out to be. There is a reason why many people call Laguna Beach a Paradise. The water was crystal clear, the weather was perfect, and the sea lions were on the rocks tanning as usual. Sea Lions? Yup! They were so cute sitting there with absolutely nothing to do being as lazy as one could ever be. Regardless,  they definitely made this trip that much more enjoyable.

One thing I love about ocean kayaking is that you can go easy or be more adventurous. Constantly trying to read the waves, the wind, and the current makes it all that much more exciting. There’s also another plus to kayaking that I just recently learned about. Kayaking is helpful for rafting. What do I mean by this? Well, rafting is a completely different activity, but the truth is that when you learn to kayak, it helps with your rafting skills. I will have to try this out myself!

On another note, we are just about getting ready to open our doors at the Montage Resort to those who want to go Kayaking, Snorkeling, or Buggy boarding, or even if you want to learn how to surf. The “life changing luxury travel” resort should definitely be a fun place to start a kayak tour from. Can’t wait!

Our starting point today:

It’s an exciting time right now for us because we’re gearing up for summer (my favorite time of the year) and we get to launch our kayak tours from the the beautiful and breathtaking Montage hotel. What a great spot! You can explore beaches, cliffs, caves and the Seal Rock, a nature sanctuary home to hundreds of California Sea Lions. It truly is one of Southern California’s most beautiful coastlines.

Speaking of kayaking and beautiful places, I’m reminded of my very first trip to Hawaii. My family and my mom’s twin sister’s family decided to embark on a family vacation together to Kauai about 5 years ago….11 travelers total (we’re very close ;-)). On the trip, one of our family adventures was a kayak trip up the Wailua River, one of the longest navigable rivers in Hawaii. If you’ve never adventured here before, then I must note this is definitely a must do! The scenery is stunning, backed by tropical valleys and radiant smells of plumeria.

Only eight of us rented kayaks from a little Hawaiian village at Kamokila, and such a quaint little place this is. The village features about a dozen hatch buildings revelaing how Hawaiians would have lived hundreds of years ago. My sister and I partnered up in one kayak, her in front and me in the back. I remember feeling like a deer in head lights as we paddled up the river - lush valleys, birds singing and the “smell” of Hawaii. The beauty is transcending. In fact, I was so overwhelmed I stopped paddling and made my sister do all the work. Lol. Zigzagging up the river - that was the moment she gave my the nickname “Dazy.” It’s important to take in such beauty.

Paddling up the river brought us to a secluded waterfall - Secret Falls. This is a great spot for swimming and also where one of Hawaii’s most bizarre and famous attractions is located - Fern Grotto, a lava rock covered with tropical overhanging ferns. The grotto acts as an amphitheatre and creates amazing sounds.

On the return trip I remember being so at peace from the tradewinds. Moving downstream definitely provided quite a workout on this leg of the journey (maybe more for my sister). I believe at this point my sister was ready to throw me overboard! This place is truly a fantasyland of Hawaiian deep jungle scenery. I can’t wait to go back, though I have a feeling I’ll be in my own kayak on the next adventure.

Besides being Copperchick in my next life, I am also going to live on Catalina Island (or Santa Catalina Island, as she is officially known). Having lived in Laguna Beach for almost two years and vowing, every time the sun set behind the Island (every night, strangely enough), that THIS would be the week I would pull finger and book a trip to the island, I finally got around to it last weekend. My excuse is that there is just too much to do in California, a view shared by many. Anyway, I took the ferry from Newport Beach and after a stunning hour and a quarter trip (very smooth – no seasickness, despite a few glasses of wine the previous night), we arrived in Avalon. No whales to be seen en route, although the captain kept pointing into the middle distance and insisting that they were ‘just over there’ (I think he was just keeping himself amused, watching all us tourist-types craning our necks to see the non-existent mammals).

Immediately upon disembarking from the ferry, there was a flurry of activity as passengers shouldered each other out of the way in an attempt to be first in line to hire a golf cart - the main method of transportation in Avalon are these small gasoline-powered motorcars. Interestingly, it is very difficult to get a permit to have a full sized vehicle in Avalon, which translates into a 10-year-long wait list to bring a car to the island. The city has its own strict permit program with which local vehicle owners must comply, in addition with the usual requirements imposed by the statewide Department of Motor Vehicles. I couldn’t help but think how much more advanced this is when compared to Laguna Beach, for example – another quaint seaside village just across the water which is crying out to have at least some of the town pedestrianized, and in which this golf-cart policy would surely work wonders to go some way towards reducing the congestion in the town, if carefully planned and managed…

Avalon itself is a very charismatic rural waterfront town with the usual tourist-oriented businesses and services lining the coastline – more reminiscent of a Spanish or Greece village than a Los Angeles county town (I’ve checked: it is the southern-most city in Los Angeles County). After an hour of sightseeing on our golf cart (there are a number of scenic drives that you can take to get a quick overview of the town and what’s on the other side of the hills that surround it), we took to foot and pounded the pavements for a few hours, exploring every little nook and cranny of the town, including the beautiful Art Deco dance hall, the Casino, which was constructed in 1929. Apparently William Wrigley, Jr. (of chewing gum fame) was a major force in the development of Avalon as he bought controlling interest in the Santa Catalina Island Company in 1919 and devoted himself to preserving and promoting it, investing millions in needed infrastructure and attractions.
We then hired a couple of single kayaks and took advantage of the beautifully glassy and crystal clear water. This was definitely a highlight of the trip – reminded me of kayaking on the Sea of Cortez, so calm was the water.

After a well-earned lunch of some very fresh fish and chips and a shared bottle of chilled Sauvignon Blanc, we were summoned back to the ferry by the rather rude but very effective foghorn they blast to get you running back to the port, and then we were heading back to the mainland. I insisted on sitting outside and it was cold but well worth it as we were treated to the most spectacular sunset as the sun (once again) set over the Island, and this time I felt very content in the knowledge that I had experienced at least a sampling of what this special island has to offer. Next time I am going to go for longer (and I found some ideas for itineraries on another blog) so that I can explore the rest of the island, camp on the west side where the rocky cliffs are supposed to be spectacular, visit Two Harbors, check out the bison that were supposedly first imported in 1924 for the silent film version of Zane Grey’s Western tale “The Vanishing American” and then left on the island. So much to see, so little time…

Man it’s shaping up to be an epic ski season in California! It’s only February and Mammoth already has a 100″ base, with more dumping! This is what I love about California. In a mere 5 hours you can drive from sunny SoCal to the Sierras where there’s some of the highest snowfall accumulation in these here United States. Whoa! You might even start with a surf or a kayak before hitting the slopes. How cool. And what else do I love about Mammoth? Let me recite the many things. First, the drive. While tedious, it’s also mind expanding as you travel the eastern Sierras through the Owens Valley. It’s vast and open and beautiful, with the mighty Sierras on one side, and the impressive White Mountains on the other. You’ll pass the true cowboy towns of Olancha (gateway to Death Valley), Lone Pine (gateway to Mt. Whitney), Independence (home to the ignominious Manzanar Japanese internment camp from WWII), Big Pine (gateway to the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest, home to the oldest living things on Planet Earth - a 4,000 year-old tree??? Come on), Bishop (home to crazy wilderness outback mountaineers), and finally Mammoth, home of the the LA powder cowboys. How does Mammoth stack up against world class mountains like Vail, Aspen, Park City, Jackson Hole and Whistler? Well, it may not have the light, fluffy powder of Utah, or the swanky private jets of Aspen, or the sheer size of Vail, or the steeps of Jackson, but it has more annual snowfall than any of them, more sunny California days, more ski days (usually staying open through June and sometimes July), less crowds (see 5 hour drive), a gracious layout that allows you to traverse the mountain without skiing the same run twice, modest pricing, cheap accommodations, lots of high speed lifts, and, oh yes, thermal hot springs that are free (if you know where to look). They can be the highlight of your holiday. Imagine skiing all day, getting that major thigh burn, then driving 20 minutes into the Owens Valley where you will discover a perfect tub in the wilderness with 110 degree mineral water for soaking those tires bones. You’ll have a 360 degree view of the Sierras and Whites just as the sun drops behind them. Ahhh. Life is good!

Heather and I were talking about white water rafting (fingers crossed, I am about to sign up a very cool partner that offers white water kayaking just outside LA, which is how we got talking about it) and I was reminiscing about a brilliant 6-day canoeing trip I did a few years ago on the Orange River in South Africa. I have some pics which I will hunt for on my laptop at home but in the meantime I found these on a fellow paddler’s photolog: http://www.cherryflava.com/pics/2007/12/chillin-down-an.html?cid=98942848#comment-98942848. They took me on such a great trip down memory lane. In its final stretch before reaching the icy Atlantic, the Orange Rivers runs through the Richtersveld, a unique desert reserve that shows the signs of old volcanic mountains and the trails of Khoi -San people. The six days that you spend on the water is long enough to really chill out and get in tune with nature. Some days we were going down rapids (backwards on a few occasions until we got the hang of it) and other times just drifting along in the slower-running sections of the river. Most days we also managed to do some hiking - just pulled our hiking boots on and went off to exploreThe majestic Orange River is awesomely beautiful and the sunsets, stars and sunsets are some of the most beautiful I have ever experienced. At night we just pulled our canoes up onto the bank of the river and sat around a campfire until our sleeping bag called (always remembering to check it for snakes and scorpions first) - sleeping under the stars of the Southern Hemisphere was an absolute highlight. I was lucky enough to meet a very large Puff Adder on our last day (one of the most common and widespread of all poisonous snakes occurring throughout the savannah regions of Africa) - it was rather too close an encounter for me to really enjoy as I almost trod upon it whilst heading off to answer a call of Nature…The Puff seldom attempts to move away when disturbed (as is the normal habit of most other snakes) and thus presents a constant hazard to the unwary piddler. It did alert me to its presence however by giving a loud hiss and fortunately I heard it early enough to take evasive action, and then admired its beauty from a safe distance. Despite the Puff’s heavy build and deceptively sluggish appearance, it can strike with amazing rapidity from a coiled up position, so I wasn’t taking any chances, and still count my blessings that it was polite enough to ask me to give it some space.

If I do get the above-mentioned company signed up on our site, I am definitely up for trying out their white water kayaking tour, but somehow doubt that this time I will get to see one of our slithery friends up close and personal - probably better for all concerned.

Today I was up at the crack, grinding some breakfast watching the rains pour in. Come ocho I headed over to the back bay for a mysto morning kayak. Tricked out in my grande blue backpacking pancho, I pushed off just as the bands of showers were pushing through. Only minutes into the paddle the wind switched and I was sailing towards jamboree with a stiff wind at my back. It was nice to be cruising at such a brisk pace, doing very little work and enjoying the scenery. However, what goes up must come down, and what leaves the beach must come back eventually, and I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty fighting the wind for a mile or two. My sit on top is great on calm days, but tracking upwind is a bitch. Letting the work ahead of me slide, I leaned back cozy in the seat and checked out the water fowl. Lots of Egrets and Tall Herons. After it rains, all the trash gets washed out of storm drains and ends up in the bay before making its way to the ocean. It’s a sickening feeling to be in a tranquil place observing majestic creatures stepping over styrofoam cups and plastic bags. Yeah, it’s only bad like this on the first big rain of the year, but that’s still unacceptable. Let’s keep the bay clean. dig.

So I flipped the yak around and decided to start heading back. Luckily, there was a waterway between the reeds and the cliffs that provided a slight wind break from the chop of the main channel. Not only was it mellow paddling against the cliffs, but I was able to spot a little cave in the rocks that I never noticed before. I definetly want to get in there, but I’m not sure I could scale down the cliff and get in. Definetly a challenge to come back to. I finally fought my way back to shore and was relieved to get on my feet again. Another day on the bay.

I recently spent a stunning fortnight kayaking and snorkeling in/on the Sea of Cortez, Mexico. I stayed at a 10 acre eco-resort called Danzante, www.danzante.com , about 25 miles south of Loreto. It borders on the Marine Sanctuary that faces Danzante Island in the Sea of Cortez, and it was a perfect base for exploring the area. It was baking hot and so most of my time was spent on/in the water, but I also ventured into the mountains on horseback in the early evenings (prior to taking advantage of the all-you-could-drink Margarita happy hour at about 5pm each day. I nearly put them out of business). I have never kayaked in such perfectly clear, turquoise water before and I still can’t get over how incredible the sealife was/is - it was like snorkeling inside an aquarium. I did yoga on my deck each morning as the sun rose over the mountains, before doing the ten minute walk down to the water’s edge to set out on one of the resort’s kayaks for a quick pre-breakfast stretch, and then after mid-morning would set off for a more strenuous paddle around some of the islands in the bay. We’d eat a packed lunch on one of these islands, not another soul there except for the seagulls and pelicans that were happy to share their little bit of paradise with us. I need to get a waterproof camera so that I can get shots of the fish next time, and I also want to get a waterproof casing for my current camera - although it takes good quality pics, I was nervous taking it out on the kayak with me incase I dropped it in the water by accident - almost happened when I was trying to take pics of the beautiful pelicans who let me get so close I could almost reach out and touch them. I have got recent inspiration from a fellow kayaker/blogger, http://www.paddletales.blogspot.com/, whose pics are just to die for. Thanks Peggy!

How many waves must a man surf down, before you can call him a man.  The answer my friend, is blowin in the wind, the answer is blowin in the wind.  offshore wind. Straight offshore wind. Howling. Burning. Blowing mini emerald tubers straight out the back. Maybe too small. I’m going kayaking.