(I hope no alligators eat my hubby!)
Covid is weird. Not the having of Covid–we have all been lucky enough to avoid it (so far). It’s the Coronapocalypse part of it that’s the strangest. It’s causing the weirdest items to be on back order. First it was toilet paper and hand sanitizer, and then slowly it became gym equipment. Next came bicycles and any other items you could use out in the world. It’s good to know that people aren’t just locking themselves away inside, and instead are getting out and adventuring.
The downside is that we spent 2 months searching the ends of the earth for kayaks. Except that by “the ends of the earth,” I mean the 75 mile radius we’re required to stay inside (which has since been bumped up to 150. Look out, anyplace further than 75 miles–I’m still not going to drive that far).
This all started back in May, when I realized how close we were to the Chattahoochee river…which is a ridiculous realization, seeing as though we live just across the border, in Alabama. And what marks the Georgia/Alabama line? Oh yeah–the Chattahoochee. I literally drive over it or next to it every single time I get in my car. So, congratulations to me for gaining a hint of situational awareness.
When the Great Kayak Quest of 2020 began, it was mostly a pipe dream. I doubt I could fit 4 kayaks into my minivan (no matter how badass she is, she does in fact have her limits). Even if we got a rack, it would probably hold 2. My kayak dreams had to sit in time out……until Justin got a truck. Suddenly the possibility of spending free time in water was once again allowed to be dreamed about. Justin was really the Search Master Extrordinaire. I had accepted that, in these times, the chances of locating kayaks (that weren’t being sold by JimBob for 3 times what he paid for them back in 1987), was bleak.
Lucky for us, Justin can sometimes be obsessive once he gets it in his head to do something. By last weekend, his quest had come to an end–we were the proud owners of 4 kayaks. Hooray!
And what does anyone do when they get their kayaks–well, they load their family in the truck after lunch and head over to the Hatchechubbee (an creek off the Chattahoochee)!
We were prepared–everyone was sunblocked from head to toe, water bottles were filled, life jackets were packed. After dreading that covid was going to lead to my first summer ever without some body of water to be in or near, kayaking was jumping in to save the day, and bring aquatics back into my life!
Did you know (I bet you didn’t, unless you live in the south), that a river could be hot? If my Water Temperature Guessing Skills are still up to snuff, then we’re talking about 88-90 degree water. When the air is 95, with a real feel of 105. But who cares, right, because we’re kayaking!!!
Shea, who has one foot planted firmly in the angsty pre-teen category, was the Queen Complainer. I spent more than half of our trip pulling a kid behind me (which is a pretty good workout, so no matter how much complaining Shea and Xander are doing, I’ll just keep dragging them along).
We survived, and as we were loading the kayaks up to head home, I commented to Justin that his white white shoulders must have reflected the sun, because they were still super white.
Or so we thought.
Slowly, over the next 5 hours, we all turned crispy. Every. Single. One of us. It turns out the UV index was 11 while we were out. Eleven. On an index that I thoughtwent up to 10. While our kids turned back to normal colors within 24 hours, Justin and I continued to be red and crispy all week–which is something Justin has not ever experienced. Even me, with summers spent outside guarding for days, has never gotten a sunburn that stayed red and painful for a week.
This past weekend we decided to try evening trips, in an attempt to save us all from The Redness. It was still a balmy 100+, but we didn’t end up looking like boiled lobsters.
“Sam? Is that an alligator?”
“OMG Justin, I toldyou I saw an alligator last time!”
“Ok, well that is definitely an alligator.”
I got closer, and it got further away. He (or she. I have no idea how you tell with alligators) was extra uninterested in us. Not that I was looking to be eaten–I just wanted to get a good look! It’s not every day that you see an alligator (except that now it kind of is every day, because Sunday we counted 4).
When we got back to the boat launch, there were 3 trucks pulling in and parking. One boat. 12 people. For anyone who spent their summers at Camp Turk, we’re talking a Blue Fin size boat, with 4 real adults, 2 young adults, and a metric ton of kids. All preparing to get into that one, not very large, boat.
Then I heard, “did y’all see any gators?” Me? Yes, me. I told her we definitely had, and she told me the best places to go to see them. All while 6 children, under 6, ran around yelling about going swimming…in there…after I just told you we saw gators, and you just told me sunset is the time when they like to come out?! Y’all look delicious.
Honestly though, my only regret is not sticking around long enough to see everyonepile into a boat meant to hold half their numbers on a goodday. While southern people watching is amazing, southern reptile watching (or locating) could very well become my new favorite activity.
