Ten women, gray hair tucked under caps and Tilley hats, sat in colorful kayaks, splayed in a semi-circle on the water, each holding her paddle up like a trusty spear. We had just rolled onto the small beach outside the lodge at Isle Royale National Park after three days of paddling this pristine arboreal forest wilderness set on Lake Superior, the largest freshwater lake in the world.
We were posed for our final picture, greeted by a crowd of other tourists on shore who clearly admired what they presumed was our athleticism and courage. As our guide rolled a small video camera, we broke into a Canadian paddle tune we often sang, especially when wind and waves called for full concentration. At the end, our audience broke into applause, and I felt a moment of triumph.
The Start of Our Kayaking Journey
It was quite a different story the first time Judy and I ventured out onto the icy waters of Lake Nipigon eleven years earlier. Every inch of our three kayaks was packed with camping gear and provisions for five days of kayaking and camping on this large lake 150 miles north of Thunder Bay, Ontario. Packs were tied to the front and top decks, and a large cooking pot was nestled between my legs.
Donned in wet suits, PFD’s and spray skirts, we paddled through 2-foot waves and gusty wind. I watched each white-capped swell of water wash over the bow of my kayak while my foot pushed relentlessly on the left rudder peddle, trying to keep from being broadsided by the waves. My internal terror had to be kept at bay. Resting, even slowing down, was not an option.
I had just taken a few kayak lessons the summer before and Judy was more at ease in narrow Illinois rivers. “Just keep paddling” was a mantra that kept running through my head. Those words and mindset would see me through many more kayak adventures throughout the years, a journey that began with one friendship over 50 years ago and has led to a cadre of new kayak companions and fellow adventurers.
Reuniting and Rekindling a Shared Passion
Judy and I were college roommates, thrown together as freshmen by a computer at the University of Illinois in Urbana-Champaign. We bonded right away and roomed together until we each got married the summer between our junior and senior years, standing up for each other at our weddings. Over the next 40 years, I lived in other places around the Midwest and settled in Oak Park, Illinois.
Judy stayed in Champaign, and we would see each other occasionally and exchange birth announcements and Christmas greetings. However, when I mentioned in a holiday letter that I was planning on going on a kayak trip with Adventures in Good Company, Judy was on the phone with me immediately, suggesting that we go together.
We were both excited about this trip. Not only did it include 5 days of kayaking and camping in a pristine Canadian wilderness, but at the end of the trip, a seaplane would transport us, our kayaks and gear back to our starting point. We both had childhood TV images of Sky King and the “Songbird,” his Cessna that would have been hard-pressed to find water in the Arizona desert. For various reasons, our travel group was much smaller than anticipated—just three of us, Judy and I and our accomplished French-Canadian guide, Julie.
Facing New Challenges on Lake Nipigon
That first day introduced us to the fear and exhaustion we would experience over and over the next five days. Still, it also included laughter, tranquility and the awesome beauty of this little-known area: The call of loons on the night of the summer solstice, lit by simultaneous sunset and full moon rise. Portaging our three kayaks and gear about a mile through rugged forested pathways, all the while filled with admiration and dread for the churning rapids we might have gone down.
Water so cold it nearly froze the blood in our ankles as we loaded and unloaded the kayaks on the shorelines—desperation to wash off 4 days of sweat and mosquito bites in the 38-degree water. Yours truly chilling our only wine bag by wedging it between some rocks on the shoreline, and returning an hour later to find that it had been swallowed by the great lake. Running down the beach, screaming and banging pots and pans to chase away a black bear that had been foraging through the embers of our campfire about twenty feet away from us. Endless deep blue water, freckled with islands, tall green pine bluffs and massive rocky cliffs – and except for a few early summer fishermen and several varieties of sea birds, total isolation and quiet.
Julie taught us the Canadian paddle song that included the words, “Blue skies and rocky shores; I will return once more.” Yes, we knew we would have to paddle again.
Exploring Canada’s God’s Pocket
The next year, we signed on for another kayak trip with Adventures in Good Company. This time, my friend Sue from northwest Indiana joined us, and we headed to God’s Pocket, a rustic resort on a small island situated between the northern tip of Vancouver Island and the British Columbia mainland. On our long drive up to the northern tip of Vancouver Island, where we would catch a boat to take us to God’s Pocket, we stopped for gas and encountered the inspiration for all the trips we would take in the future.
In the station were three SUVs with sleek ocean kayaks strapped to the roofs, clearly on their way to their own kayak adventure. We stood in admiration as we saw six women get into the cars, silver and gray quaffed hair, the latest outdoor clothing and gear, each with a brightly colored cotton kerchief tied around her neck. Still feeling like novice kayakers ourselves, we all relished the day when we might exude the same air of athletic confidence and experience that they did.
The icy salt waters of this region offered many new natural spectacles, especially to Midwestern city folk like the three of us. Along with companions from all over the United States and Canada, we paddled in double kayaks, slogging through islands of giant sperm-like bull kelp floating on the water's surface. While on a constant whale watch, we mostly spotted the occasional seal that would pop up, give us a once over, and then slip away beneath the water before we could focus our cameras.
The entire area is known as a cold-water, deep-sea diving area and had been featured in an article in National Geographic a month earlier. We made a day trip to Browning Pass Wall, a high stone wall filled with fragile sea anemones, barnacles, and purple and orange starfish twice as big as a human hand. On a night paddle, we were awed by the phosphorescent, neon-green strings of pearls that bubbled just beneath the water's surface as our paddles gently pushed us along.
Kayaking Closer to Home in the Apostle Islands
After the trip to God’s Pocket, Judy suggested that we put together our own adventure. She had several friends from the Champaign-Urbana Ski Club that she knew would want to join us. She arranged for a trip a bit closer to home, the Apostle Islands off the southern coast of Lake Superior. She booked hotels and found a reputable outfitter and guide that provided kayaks, wet suits, spray skirts, PFD’s camping gear and food for five days of island hopping. We were joined by Joyce, who may be the “senior member,” in age, but can out-paddle most of us on a windy day; Sheryl, whose happy hour song-creations helped coin our name as the Kayak Flirts (‘cause we wear those little skirts); and Ann with her perpetual great sense of humor. We faced some rough water on that trip that to this day many of us feel was our most challenging, but maybe it was memorable because we had less experience.
Annual Kayaking Trips and Expanding the Group
Over the past 20 years, we have made an annual kayak trip to destinations both near and far. Each year we try to alternate between trips that require flights to either the east or west coasts in the United States and Canada, rivers in Missouri and Florida and the many hidden kayak gems of our own Great Lakes. Two years ago, we finally made it across the big pond to kayak along the Cinque Terre in Italy.
Memorable Destinations and Experiences Across North America
We have paddled the rugged coast of Maine, where fog can creep in and hide a 12 foot kayak or a seven-ton lobster boat ten feet away. The wind and tides can collide in a bay, creating 3 foot waves that are not for the feint of heart. However, the reward at the end of such a two-mile crossing was sitting on an open-air deck at the Manhasset Bay Marina, drenched in sunlight, wolfing down fresh clams and lobster drenched in butter. On a return trip to Maine, we got to ride over 6-foot ocean swells, sometimes losing sight of each other as we dipped between blue watery hills.
The Black Water Swamps of South Carolina offered a totally different experience. The smooth, polished ebony water made the paddling easy, and it was warm enough to occasionally pull our legs out of the kayak cockpit and stretch them out on the bow of the boats. Along the edges were 600-year-old cypress trees, dwarf palmettos, swamp roses and water lilies. However, the sight of a v-shaped ripple in the water pointing its way into the shoreline would often reveal a six to nine-foot alligator slithering its way onto land, compelling us to plan our “pottie breaks” very carefully.
A few years later we found ourselves back on the Pacific camping on an island paradise in the San Juan Islands of Puget Sound. While sometimes our group rents houses or stays in small local hotels or B&B’s, we have found when we are camping, we prefer to set up a home base and take day trips from that spot. The time and effort to unload and set up camp, and then take it all down and repack just takes too much time away from paddling on the water. Our tent there was on a ridge overlooking the water and snow-capped Mount Baker looming in the distance. It doesn’t get much better than that!
Nova Scotia offered a similar experience. Just 50 miles north of Halifax were a series of bays and islands so remote we only encountered one boat in the four days we were there. The weather was warm, but the wind and waves required strength and persistence. Sleep came easily at night, but slipping out of the tent after midnight we were enveloped by our vast universe of stars, planets, and distant solar systems. Could there be any other place out there more amazing as our own earth?
Discovering the Beauty of the Great Lakes
We have found that the beauty and challenge level of these traditional kayak coastal destinations is matched in many ways right here in the Midwest, with the Great Lakes so close to all of us in our group. We have spent time paddling the Keewanau Penisula, the Picture Rocks and St. Martin’s Bay Islands of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, paddling around islands, slipping into sand caves, where we had to brace our paddles parallel to our boats, bend over, and then quickly maneuver the kayak away from a rock wall and out the other side.
As we paddled, we look straight up at walls 30-40 feet high, striated with rocks, minerals, and lichens that create an abstract painting, a horizontal rainbow of rich colors. When glancing down through the crystalline waters, we could see giant boulders in shades of sea green and steel gray, and sometimes little minnows scurrying around. Our lodge at Isle Royale National Park was a five-hour ferry ride across Lake Superior from Houghton Michigan. During our traditional happy hour, we could look straight out over the horizon and watch the surface of the water, dancing with diamond shimmers in the setting sunlight.
Combining Kayak Adventures with Local Culture
We often combine these kayak trips with fun tourism as well. Many of us are former teachers, and we never miss the opportunity to attend local museums or a Park Ranger lecture when we can . . .and of course we do allow some time for shopping. On our trip to the Georgian Bay and Parry Sound on the eastern shore of Lake Huron, we stopped to do some touring in Toronto and added extended trips when we were in Italy.
The Kayak Flirts: Our Growing Community of Adventurers
While each year the group members may vary, there is now a cadre of more than twelve who are counted as Kayak Flirts: Sue Ellen joined us for the Maine trip, insisting that wine in real bottles can travel in a kayak and on camping trips. Kath, a professional storyteller, has kept us entertained around campfires. When Pam, a Nia dance instructor, broke her foot on our trip to the San Juan Islands, the rest of us took turns helping her into the double kayaks so she could continue to paddle on our daily excursions. Ellen offered lessons in belly dancing, and Joan and Mollie from Rockford, Illinois, are now regulars.
A Shared Love for Adventure and Lifelong Learning
Although a few of us do run marathons or bike in 100-mile races, most of us keep moderately active, having the opportunity to kayak only once a year. We have all taken water safety classes and practiced tipping over, getting out of the boat, and rescuing each other. So far, we have never had the occasion to put it to a real test. We rely on the expertise of highly qualified guides to pilot us through uncharted waters, but we are always willing to pitch in and set up camp, help cook and clean up as well as eat the great food prepared for us.
We prefer women guides, because they understand that our main focus on these trips is not the mileage we cover, but the time we spend together, relishing the glorious natural beauty of wilderness places. If winds make kayaking too dangerous, we hike in the woods, visit nearby waterfalls or fisheries or museums. If it rains, we don rain jackets or play games inside. If someone needs a kayak skirt tucked in, we paddle over to help, and on land we help steady boats as we get in and out.
There are not enough positive adjectives to describe the women in the Kayak Flirts, but if one had to choose a phrase, it would be: We go with the flow and just keep paddling on to our next adventure.
