Water Bonds

 Moraine Lake, Canada

Around 2000, I bought my first kayak from a big box store in Olathe, Kansas. I had to figure out how to load and unload it myself from my Isuzu Rodeo. For the first year I owned it, I didn't know a single other person in Oklahoma with a kayak. Before too long, I got a second kayak from Ocean Kayaks in Washington and had it shipped to Oklahoma. I didn't bother to order a paddle with it, because I knew that there were a couple of stores around town that sold kayaks, so I figured I could buy one locally. That turned out to be harder than expected. While these stores technically had a kayak for sale, they didn't actually have a paddle in stock to sell with it. I ended up with a $20 leaky paddle from WalMart.

Around this time, my brother had bought his first kayak, then his first 100 kayaks. They were all over the yard and inside his home owned by the city on the property of Martin Park Nature Center. Dave told me that he was going to open a kayak store, and I was as skeptical as anyone else in the state. He proved me and the rest of the world wrong. When I spotted a car going down the road with a kayak strapped to the top, I could tell you who it belonged to in those early years. Between the social paddles, full moon paddles, and the "ya-yas", the kayaking network multiplied rapidly. Soon, I started seeing boats on cars that I no longer recognized.

I worked for three years at the WildCare Foundation - a large wildlife rehabilitator in Noble, Oklahoma. During the summers, my two kayaks were always on top of my car. Each day after work I would alternate taking different co-workers (and my boss, Rondi) out for a paddle on Little River in Norman. Most of them ended up buying kayaks for themselves from OKC Kayak. I told them a little white lie when I said that it was just a one-time investment - until you need a buddy boat.  There were also some memorable wildlife releases by kayak, including a mink.  There may have also been an incident when Rondi and I cracked her windshield trying to put the kayaks inside her car instead of on top when we were caught in a windstorm and didn't want to try to load them on the roofrack.

One sunny winter day, I was in my boat with my feet propped on top enjoying the calm waters of a cove on Lake Hefner. An older couple were walking their two little pups along the path on shore. The woman called out to me, "that looks so relaxing." "It is!" I replied. "We should go home and get our boats," she said to her husband. "You have kayaks?" "We do! Do you know Dave Lindo?" "Who?" "Dave Lindo. He owns OKC Kayak and is a neat guy. You should know him." I finally had to admit that I had known him for 36 years (or however old he was at the time). "Is that your brother?!" Truth was out. Later that day, I saw Dave at a neice's birthday party. I told him that I had met Doris and Tom. His response? "They told me you weren't wearing your lifevest." Doris and Tom became dear friends for the rest of their lives. I now have the kayak that Doris used to paddle.

Many weekends were spent paddling up and down Stinchcomb with friends. We hauled hundreds of pounds of trash and miles of abandoned fishing line out of that river. Walter and Michael were champions of getting the biggest trash hauls to shore - propane tanks, tires, and even a chest freezer!  Kayakers were always leaving the waterways cleaner than it was when they got there.  

There were some epic battles between the sailing community, the city, and the kayakers. The sailing club ended up bogarting Hobie Beach and forcing the social paddles to launch from the newly-dubbed, muddy Paddler's Point. That was the same spot where Dave came to the rescue when Doris contacted me about a pelican that couldn't fly at Lake Hefner. I had moved out of state and she knew that I was coming to town and asked if I knew anyone who could help rescue this poor bird. I needed the distraction that week and offered to use her boat to try to catch the pelican. After some futile attempts, I called Dave to see if he was around and could bring a second boat. He showed up a few minutes later with a trailer full of kayaks, popped one in the water, and within seconds we had cornered the pelican and he was able to grab him. "Charlie" the pelican is a whole other story, but last I heard, he is still living his best life year-round as a flightless bird on Lake Hefner.

Dave has taught me to try to find a way to say "yes" to some epic adventures. I had just started a new job when he invited me on a kayaking trip in Alaska. His Alaska trips had been on my bucket list for a while, but between the costs, vacation time, and lack of a petsitter, it just wasn't in the cards for me. Dave removed the cost obstacle and I figured out the rest. Five years later, I got another chance to go on his Alaska trip again, this time with my Sweetpea. Most recently, my Sweetpea and I got invited last-minute to join Dave and some badass kayakers on the Selway River in Idaho. Lesson learned - if you get invited, you should go. (Second lesson learned - make sure your lifevest fits well, oh, and hold on to your paddle.)

Now, most of my friends own kayaks, or paddleboards, or both. When I first met my Sweetpea, he already had one kayak and was in the process of building another one out of wood. All of our dogs (and one foster dog) got to go kayaking with us. We have gone kayak-camping in Glacier and the Yellowstone wilderness. We have paddled together in many states and several countries. I still get together with some of the original "ya-yas" for girls' trips. The friendships and community that have bonded on the water are some of the strongest and longest-lasting. I bought my first boat for the independence, but kept paddling for the kinship. 

While many of my friends have supported OKC Kayak and Tulsa Kayak, I have to admit that I've never bought a boat from them. There was a time or two that I was able to sneak in the store and either pay cash or have my Sweetpea pay when Dave and his wife, Melissa, weren't there. He then put both of our names (and probably our mugshots) at the register to warn his workers to never let that happen again. We even bought some things online using our dog's name, only to get a call from Dave five minutes later to ask if our dog stole our credit card as he cancelled the transaction. I eventually passed my two original kayaks on to other people and upgraded to one from OKC Kayak, thanks to Dave. Numerous kayak racks, NRS straps, paddles, stickers, and outerwear have been provided pro bono over the years. 

OKC Kayak and Tulsa Kayak were like Field of Dreams - "if you build it, they will come". Oklahoma is now a top spot for world-class kayakers and even the Olympics. Without Dave and Melissa, I doubt that would be the case. Now, those kayak stores are scheduled to close their doors for the last time at the end of August. REI, Costco, and Amazon will never be able to replicate or replace what these stores created. Dave remembers almost every boat and who bought it. These weren't just financial transactions, these were entry passes to a whole new community and lifestyle. Well done, Dave and Melissa. Thank you, and see you on the water!

Jumpin' Jack Splash earned his nickname

Foster pup, Bunny, on her first paddle

Sky and our foster, Bunny

Dave and Melissa in Alaska

Dave rolling his boat in Alaska

Doris at one of the Ya-Ya paddles

Kayaking in Florida

Kayaking with manatees in Florida

Dave kayaking in Alaska

My Sweetpea kayaking in Glacier National Park

Lake Louise, Canada

My Sweetpea kayaking in Portugal

Manatee swimming under my kayak in Florida

Melissa kayaking in Glacier Bay, Alaska

Nugget Falls, Mendenhall Lake, Alaska

Nugget Falls, Alaska

Releasing a mink at Stinchcomb

Sky chilling with a moose in the background

Kayaking Moraine Lake in a snowstorm in Canada

Kayaking Moraine Lake, Canada

WildCare employee releasing opossums along Little River

Dave kayaking in Alaska

Dave kayaking with sea lions in Alaska

Louis Lake in Yellowstone

Backcountry camping in Yellowstone on Shoshone Lake

Yellowstone

Ya-Ya Judy in New Mexico

Ya-Yas Jill and Judy in New Mexico

Snow kayaking in Colorado

Newest kayaking friends after our Selway River trip

Kayaking with Dave on the Selway River 

Wearing lifevests, for once

People ARE the Difference

It's been almost a year since I left Oklahoma.  That's right.  I left my beloved state.  I left my friends and family, and adopted grandma behind – all in the name of love.  While I have no regrets about my decision, that doesn't mean that I don't miss Oklahoma – mostly my Oklahomies.

Sure, I miss chili chocolate tea at t, an urban teahouse, the Lee's coffees at Lee's Sandwiches on Classen Boulevard.  I miss the Towheads habanero salsa from Urban Agrarian.  I miss the Wichita Mountains.  I miss LakeHefner, even in its dwindling state.  I miss the Paseo and Plaza districts.  But, most of all, I miss the people.

The state where I live now is beautiful – classically beautiful.  I would trade the mountains, the pine trees, and the half-frozen wild rivers to have my Oklahomies here.  People make ALL the difference. They can make a difference in a good way, or in a bad way.  Unfortunately, national news has been full of the handful of bad ones lately.   Or, always.

Let me tell you about a few of the Okies that are the good people.  Let me start with my blood-family. My redneck brother has towed my car when I buried it in snow.  He has helped one of my friends haul a piano that she found at a garage sale.  A piano.  A big, heavy piano.  Because he's my brother and it was for my friend.  It once took us FOUR hours to drive 20 miles in a snowstorm on Christmas Eve, because he was helping others.  He helped make sure that a dozen or more people got their homemade tamales for the holidays.  He pulled numerous people out of ditches.  He stopped to pick up one stranded worker just to drive him to a convenience store to pick up enough food to last for the night and took him back to work.  He lives for helping others, and beams when the kids at church look up to “Mr. Paul”.

My other Okie brother will literally give you the shirt off his back.  He IS OKC Kayak (and now, Tulsa Kayak, too).  He will give you his last granola bar if you are on one of his trips and you are hungry.  He will give you his gloves, jacket, and hat if you forgot yours.  He spent most of a day helping me load the moving van with the heaviest of my furniture, and then helped pack up more boxes, too.  Yes, I arrived at my new home with some interesting labeling on some of the boxes (“Misc.” somehow turned into “Misc. sex toys”).  Rarely has anyone been able to beat him to the check, either.  He is always striving to do the right thing.  That's just who is he.

"Southern Belle" Bernie

The last remaining sister in Oklahoma is the Southern Belle.  She will charm you with her Okie accent and genuine smile.  She will sing and dance and make you laugh.  She is not afraid to visit people in the hospital, no matter how bad of shape they are in.  When her own husband was in a serious accident, they both kept their sense of humor.  You will never just get a “happy birthday” from her – she will tell you all of the things that she loves about you on the anniversary of your birth.  She has a soft spot for ALL people and animals.  She sees no boundaries of class, race, religion, sex, or age.  She is teaching the next generation to live with joy and laughter.  It's not her duty, it's just her.

My mom is an honorary Okie, though she probably would never admit it.  She put up with eight, independent, hell-raising kids that took after their father.  She raised the family while my dad worked out of town more often than not.  Then, she took care of my dad through a horrible illness that slowly took away his life over four and a half years.  She has volunteered with hospice, worked as a hospital chaplain, and still runs daily errands for friends she made at the assisted-living center - even though she no longer works there.  She delivers communion, drives them to doctors' appointments, and keeps them company.  Every day is spent serving others.

My Okie friends are changing the image of Oklahoma.  They vote.  They encourage others to do the same.  (Remember, most of the embarrassing Oklahoma news stems from elected officials - did you vote?)  They open businesses.  They employ others.  They stand up for their beliefs.  They stand up for those without a voice.  They tread lightly on Mother Earth.   They make art from others' trash.  They foster animals, and kids.  They feed people.  They are leaders by their actions – not titles.

Oklahomies would not have made me ask for their help if I got my car high-centered in the snow – it would have been freely offered.  Okies would not have made me wait until they finished shooting off their last five rounds of ammo.  Okies would not have complained when the handle of their shovel crumbled when I barely used it.  They most certainly would not have given me an address to send the rest of the money I didn't have on me to cover the last $12 for their old shovel, after they emptied my wallet.

See no evil, smell no evil?

I won't deny that there are some bad people in Oklahoma.  Or, some Oklahomans that do stupid things, or follow along with things that aren't right.  It doesn't matter who is looking, or listening.  We need to all try to do the right thing regardless.  Okies, along with everyone else, are imperfect.  We can all do better – be better.  Maybe other states are judged differently – because the people rarely concern themselves with anything or anyone outside of their personal bubble.  All that I know, is that the Okies that I know and love aren't the ones I read about in the news.  MY Okies are working diligently to make my home state even better.  And, I miss them (and Towheads habanero salsa).

Wild Caving

It's almost that time again to go spelunking at Alabaster Caverns.  From April 1st until the end of September you can not only explore the main cavern, but you can also go wild caving in one of the four wild caves in the park.

Last August, we gathered up a swell group of friends (you have to have at least 3 people) and headed out to Freedom, OK early in the morning.  Our adventure first began with rescuing a tri-athlete on the side of the expressway with a blown-out bike tire, but fortunately no bodily injuries.  She was an Oklahoma-transplant and I hope that we restored her faith in Okie goodness.  I also shared my blog with her, since she wasn't aware of all of the great things Oklahoma offers for the adventurous.

Photo by Bryan Fowler

After depositing her and her crippled bike at a convenience store to wait for her rescue ride home, we continued on our way.  One of my dearest friends had brought along "The Sound of Music" soundtrack.  We yodeled along to The Lonely Goatherd as we drove through the downtown streets of Kingfisher.  Since helmets are required for wild caving, we donned our headgear and rolled the windows down enjoying the beautiful day and our silliness.  After a bit, we noticed that there were people lining up in their lawn chairs along the sides of the street and waving at us.  I don't believe that we were the reason for the attention, but the local residents had to believe that this was the strangest parade ever!

We arrived at the Alabaster Caverns State Park about midday, so we took a quick lunch break before the exploration began.  A horned lizard joined us - a rare treat since their populations have taken a dive in the last few decades.

For a small fee, we got our wild caving permits, signed waivers, and let the park staff know which cave we were going to explore first.  They require you to check in with them before and after each cave.  We were thoroughly warned that they would send search and rescue after us if we weren't back by 3pm, and charge us a hefty fine, too.

The first cave we picked was HoeHandle.  I was not expecting much, due to the hype of the tram ride into the main cavern and the warning that there were not "modern conveniences" in the wild cave (well, I hope not!).  I was wrong.  The large entrance quickly narrows to a crawl space that made this claustrophobic girl a bit panic-y.  We discovered bats, camelback crickets, a salamander, and a lone field mouse.  Although this particular cave wasn't the wettest by description, we still ended up army-crawling through a couple inches of what we thought was muddy water.  When we came out the other end of the cave, we consulted our map and discovered that the muddy hole near the end is popular with the local cattle and we had just crawled through bovine "excreta".  Their creative phrasing didn't make us feel or smell any better, especially since we could only find barbed-wire barriers at the end and had to crawl back through the "excreta" to return the way we came.

The day was getting long, so we picked a second and final cave for the day and decided on Owl Cave.  It was a short, but scenic, hike to get to the cave.  The gaping entrance drops down into a more narrow, but still semi-tall, path.  We made our way to the far end of the cave and followed the trickling water until it became too slick and small to go any further.  The day was hot, but we were cool in the damp and dark of the cave.

After we changed into clean clothes, we headed home along the Great Plains Trail.  On our way, we decided to stop in Waynoka for ice cream at the local soda fountain shop.  The sweetness was only intensified by a lovely rainstorm like only a blazing hot Oklahoma day can brew.  We sat under the awning and licked melting ice cream and soaked up the day.

There are two other wild caves at Alabaster Caverns that we still need to explore - Ice Stalactite and Bear Cave.  If you go, be prepared to get stinking filthy.  Bring a change of clothes and take advantage of the showers at the park.  Don't be afraid of the bats, rodents, reptiles, and bugs.  Don't expect the maps or park staff to provide much direction on the wild caves.  Explore, enjoy, and be silly.  You will be dirty and stinky and not give an excreta!

Wildlife Bingo

We have this game we play whenever we take off on an outdoor adventure.  It's pretty simple - we list all of the wildlife that we want to see that day.  Of course, to really prove that you have seen the animal, there has to be identifiable, photographic evidence.

In Oklahoma, there are the usual suspects:  white-tailed deer, armadillos, red-tailed hawks, etc.  For fun, we will throw in a bobcat, fox, eagle, osprey, elk, or porcupine.  If we are feeling extra adventurous, then there will also be rattlesnakes and mountain lions on the list (from a safe distance, of course).

Today, not only did I see many of the usual critters, but also added a new wildlife sighting that I had never seen in the wild (in Oklahoma or any other state) - a river otter.

About a year ago, someone mentioned to me that there are river otters at the Wichita Mountains.  I thought that he was full of longhorn excreta (more on that fun word in a future blog post).  Ever since then, I've been on a mission to spot one.  I had even seen other people's photographic evidence of their existence in that area.  Challenge accepted - river otter was added to the "wildlife bingo" list every time I ventured to the 'tas.

The weather today was going to be beautiful - 74 and sunny.  Not too bad for the last day of February!  Unfortunately, it is Friday, so all of my hiking friends are slaving away at their 9-5s.  I disregarded the plaque in the Charon's Garden area of the Wichitas that warns people to never hike alone, in memory of someone that lost their life there in the rock rooms (another future blog post).  Afterall, it was going to be one of my last chances to go there for a while, and the weather was perfect.

On my way, I decided to pull off the turnpike to try to see what bird had been sitting in the nest I've been watching.  The zoom lens came in handy to view the adult great-horned owl.  I must have disturbed her when I got out of the car.  She flew off into the field and in her place was a three-week old owlet.  Darn!  I didn't even have owl on my bingo list!

I chose to hike the bison trail section of Dog Run Hollow, since it runs along French Lake and Cache Creek and the 40-foot hole.  I had been told that the river otters have been spotted all over the area, just following the water.  But, Donna at the Visitors' Center warned me that my chances of spotting the otters there were slim and said that the most recent sighting had been in a different area.  I took my chances anyway, since this was a well-marked trail and I was hiking solo.  Sure enough, she was right - no otters.

I was driving away from the refuge as the shadows grew long.  I got almost to Medicine Park and pulled my car over.  Searching for a map of the refuge, or even one of the state, I came up empty.  Finally, I remembered that I had a handkerchief from the Visitors' Center gift shop that had a map of the refuge printed on it.  I pulled it out of my backpack and found the spot that Donna mentioned.  Of course, it was at the opposite end of the park.  Turning the car around, I raced against the sunset.

river otter? or beaver?

The lake was still.  No ripples except from a few Canada geese and red-eared sliders slipping off the logs into the water.  No signs of playful river otters.  Determined, I started walking the perimeter of the lake.  In the distance, I see a bobbing head in the water.  I knew that it was much more likely to be a beaver than an otter, but I was hopeful.  The shutter was clicking as I quickly scrambled on the rocks to get a better view.  There were whiskers, lots of them.  Still not convinced, I moved quicker towards my subject.  He dove underwater.

scruffy little guy

At least I had some pictures to try to scrutinize later.  I sat down and checked the viewfinder.  Would it be good enough to get a proper ID?  Before I could determine the answer, the bobbing head resurfaced.  For the next hour, I watched as the otter swam around, caught his dinner, rolled gracefully, and played on the shoreline.  The light was low, but the pictures were good enough to convince even the doubters, such as myself.


Bingo. 

Not great quality, but definite ID

Dinnertime!