CalActive.com Activities Blog

Water is somehow always a lucid metaphor for a simple understanding of life’s many introspective experiences and moments. Like the mountain stream that always flows towards the sea, the movement of aqua is form and direction for sustaining an acute emotional meaning into the domino of nuances that compose our experiences.

Today I showed a young woman how to surf for the first time.

The cold refreshing sea water, the thrill of the rides, the newness and exoticism of it all was an awakening. We began to talk about our lives, our decisions, and living with them. The brilliant clear water made a much needed window into the divergent paths from which our lives were now intersecting. As the waves washed us over we shared a moment of lucidity. It was understood that just for this brief moment away from land, we were both free from the trappings of things and people from which our spirits yearned to escape, but from which our rationalities would never allow. However, this freedom also made us more aware of the prisons we have designed for ourselves in forced relationships, cages we’d become so resigned to we hardly notice the bars.

After smiles we departed. But the water in our ears and the sand between our toes always lingers a while longer, subtle reminders of those brief moments of shared solemn clarity; And perhaps a new compass by which to navigate the unriden waves of the future.

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.