An update

I've been asked, urged, begged -- okay, not really begged -- to update this blog.

Some folks want to know how the last leg of the Kayak Safari was. Not much fun, but more in a moment. Some people want to know if I'm still alive. Yep. At least one person just wants to be amused. No promises there ....

This weekend is a busy writing weekend; I'm wrapping up my contractually required "sample" chapter for the FalconGuides book. It's actually quite a good exercise as it reminds me of all the things I need to pay attention to when I'm out on the water.

Here's one: Don't Leave the GPS on the Tailgate of the Truck.

So. The last leg of the coastwise trip was tough. Day one: 17 miles in a quartering gale, water the color of chocolate milk. Day two: 22 miles up the ditch. An overnight thunderstorm nearly blew us away. Day three: North winds. Day four: North winds.

I think we ended up catching maybe 10 fish between us -- nothing really noteworthy. Saw some birds. Built a couple of nice campfires. And we were really happy to step ashore at Bird Island Basin after four days and 70 miles on the water.

It was such a challenging leg of the trip -- such a grind -- that I joked more than once that it would be the Haiku feature story.

Here are a couple from the trip:

Waves roll, cockpit fills.
Wind howls, pushes petulant;
Riding chocolate milk.

Coyote watches:
Ears pricked, eyes keen, nose scenting;
What creatures, these boats?

Sunlight burns water
Bright; stroking, stroking onward.
Miles to go ‘til night.

Rain like bullets splat.
Tent walls tremble, folding flat ...
Sleep, at last, ‘til dawn.

Liquid sky below
Ripples, rolls, clears, surprises:
Raccon tracks in mud.

Green water, red fish
Grubbing mud, tail tasting air;
I cast ... not hungry?

Sand: spilling, slipping,
Racing to the water’s edge,
In cool repose rests.

Journey ends, paddle rests;
Strangers offer cold beer:
A good day at last.

That's not to say, of course, that the article won't be worth reading. One of the things a near-fishless 70-mile stretch of S. Texas did was give me the opportunity to talk more about the fascinating history of the Wild Horse Desert.

The next leg of the kayak safari brings me to my home waters, that stretch of bay and beach that I've roamed since I was a child. I'm looking forward to it.