A Different Adventure
We bought a kayak.
Not a super special one, but a basic inflatable kayak for
two.
We have loads of beautiful lakes around us and although I
love swimming in them, we don’t really take advantage of what’s on our
doorstep. My arms are not fantastically
strong although they are used when cycling and doing yoga, and as we are
cleaning, sanding, and painting as we redecorate and repurpose furniture, but
that’s another story. Kayaking will strengthen my upper body, and…
I think I’m trying to justify the buying of a kayak, and I
don’t need to.
We posted our joy on a local site only to be told, ‘You are
not allowed to use pleasure boats on that lake.’ Oh. In fact, you are not
supposed to swim in that lake or the one closest to us which has a campsite on
its shores, despite there always being kayaks and paddle boards and many, many,
swimmers in the short summer months. It seems it is a rule that is ignored, but
now we know. I always thought it was swim at your own risk in these lakes as
they don’t have lifeguards, but I guess I was wrong.
I have to admit I was disappointed, angry, and annoyed we
couldn’t use the kayak on the local lakes. We’d just spent this money, and I
was really looking forward to us enjoying more time at the lakes and now we are
told we can’t. And if we want to kayak, we have to drive at least twenty
minutes, so we won’t go as frequently. I wondered if we should send the boat back and
forget the idea.
I am quick to negative feelings after the past three years
and quick to anger too, but it fades.
The beautiful local lakes are nature lakes, and we like to
think we respect nature and the environment, so, although we may go for a
‘tolerated’ swim occasionally in the local lakes, we will instead drive further
to the approved ‘boating’ lakes. They are not too far away and are larger so
probably better for exploring.
We keep the kayak and go on our first adventure.
We choose a not too hot day to take a break from DIY, pack
the boat in the car with a picnic stowed in a waterproof bag and set off to
Port de la Saisse by Les Marmites, which are not jars of delicious love it or
hate it food, but strangely beautiful water-carved rocks in the form of
cauldrons. It is also the start of the wonderful Lac Vouglans although it resembles
a wide winding river more than a lake as it is a man-made reservoir from
damming a river many years ago. It provides much electricity for the region. We
have never been to this part of the lake before. There are many parts we’ve not
been to, as most are inaccessible by car or bicycle. We are looking forward to lots
of exploration.
We park in the shade next to a slipway. Perfect.
It takes maybe fifteen minutes to pump up the boat, change
into swimming gear, slap on environmentally friendly suncream, and carry the
kayak down the slip way, taking our turn between fishing and pleasure boats on
their trailers being slid into the water.
The kayak slides silently into the warm water and small fish dart away. We fit the fin, position the bags, place the paddles across the kayak. I climb into the back seat, quite elegantly I think, Martin climbs into the front with not a splash or wobble, we dip our paddles into the water, and we are off, looking like we know what we are doing, that we have done it many times before and not just once.
The water is calm, flat, reflecting the boats on the pontoon
so perfectly. I take a mental photo and imagine flipping it and not seeing a
difference. The few small clouds in the blue sky are in the water alongside us.
Our paddle strokes synchronise, sometimes and then mostly. Okay so there are quite
a few paddle clashes. It’s hard to concentrate on watching Martin’s paddles
when there is so much beauty to gaze at.
We see a v shaped ripple on the surface, lift our paddles
and drift to watch. Is it a snake? There is no head above water, and after
seeing several more we realise they are fish swimming away from our kayak and
towards the numerous fishing boats along the edges of the lake, sorry fish. It’s
better if you swim with us rather than away. I don’t know if they are large
fish, the water is deep and a grey-green, not sparkling clear but still very
clean water.
A light mist lifts from the shady side as the sun’s rays
warm the air and the surface, I paddle quietly and gently under a willow tree while
Martin uses the go-pro to take a short video. We both watch for tree roots, but
it’s quite deep even near the edge. The lake is not full, the high waterline
probably a metre higher than today, but we’ve seen this lake several metres
below the line before. The rain-filled spring and early summer had filled the
reservoirs and lakes before the sun arrived to suck them up into the sky. Recent
rain has topped lakes up again, hence the greeny-grey colour rather than the
usual turquoise blue caused by minerals in the water. As the water becomes
warmer the brighter the blue. I trail my fingers into the lake and let Martin
do the work for a moment. It’s not as warm as Lac Chalain as it is deeper, but
it’s not cold either. I look forward to a few swims. I dip my paddle back in
the water and we glide on.
It's quiet.
It’s beautiful.
We are so lucky.
There are numerous small places for stopping and we choose
one but it’s not until we paddle closer that we see the two herons. Martin
tries to take a photo on his go-pro which is waterproof and so handy on the
boat. I paddle gently but one heron flies away with a loud cry of disgust at
us. We are sorry to disturb it. Martin didn’t get the photo. Another time.
It is easy to steer the kayak onto the soft soil at the edge.
The bank is spongy but nice to sit on. We sip water and watch the lake. A fishing boat putters by, stops and then
starts drifting and turning as if caught in a whirlpool. It’s weird, but Martin
points out the small, silent, electric motor at the front of the boat which
steers them into the exact position they want to be in with their trailing
lines.
A small frog jumps into the water, and we laugh, that’s why
the heron was cross, it was having a mid-morning snack. We feel a little guilty.
It’s funny that we see more wildlife on this ‘play’ lake than we did on the ‘nature’
lake.
I go for a short swim. It’s refreshing and feels good. There
are hundreds of tiny fish in the shallows. I don’t swim for too long as I need
to be sure I have the energy for paddling back up to the port.
We swap places in the kayak as Martin was a tad
uncomfortable in the front. It takes a little getting used to, but I don’t mind
it. I cross my legs and paddle. Martin is more comfortable and experiments with
the go-pro camera, one time trailing it low so his hand is in the water acting
like a drag anchor and we turn in a circle.
We pass another small port and a mother with her two
children having fun in the water, see more fishermen, fish jumping, and lots
and lots of herons.
When boats pass small waves gently rock the kayak.
Sometimes I forget I’m paddling, and all is smooth and then
one of us changes the stroke and we clash and laugh.
The lake twists like a river and sometimes we cannot see whether
we will be going left or right until close to the turn. We make guesses and are
right about half the time. Its an interesting perspective, I like traveling
close to the surface of the water. When we change direction, a wind is in our
faces, its nice as the sun is stronger now, not the cool day we were expecting
but we dip our caps in the water and catch plenty of drops from our paddles. The water is ruffled but we paddle on easily.
Martin spots a potential picnic beach, some green, some sun
and some shade which sounds great as the sun is strong and I am drying out from
my swim. We head that way, gliding further out to avoid a fisherman’s lines and
space. He calls, ‘bonjour.’ Everyone is relaxed and happy to share this
beautiful piece of nature.
It takes ages to get there as our bodies are craving food,
as we need we see the bank is steep but there is a cove next to it that looks
perfect.
Again, we annoy a heron, but it’s impossible not to as they
are everywhere.
We glide between two rocks and onto the stony beach. One
stone is in the perfect place for a backrest.
I open the waterproof bag, pull out the cool bag and find
the veggie pasties are not totally defrosted. Luckily, we have tomatoes and
crackers to eat while they warm up in the sunshine. We are very hungry and soon
everything has been munched, except two apples kept for when we get back to the
car. We know from cycling that we will be hungry again then.
We have a lovely rest, shifting the towels we sit on with
the shadows, watching a family on the opposite bank playing with their dog in
the water and another family on a hired boat, enjoying the lake. I have another
short swim before we leave and head across the lake to paddle back along the
other bank. A family on a boat heads into our vacated beach to enjoy the quiet
space.
A couple on paddle boards set off from the opposite shore
and for a while we are behind them, slowly catching up until the man drops
something and we pass as they retrieve it. It’s because Martin’s cousin has a
paddle board, and we had a play when he was out on holiday that the kayak idea was
born. Thanks Gary.
A wind catches us when we turn around a bend and for a while
it feels like we are not moving forward. I try harder and faster for a while,
it’s fun, but not sustainable. I am
annoyed that we keep veering to the left and try different ways to compensate but
to no avail. Is it something wrong with the kayak? Martin paddles alone and we
go straight. I paddle alone and we go straight. We paddle together and left we
veer. So bizarre and frustrating. We have drifted into the center of the lake
and feel the current fighting our progress, so we paddle over to the side, and
all is well again. There is only a slight current in this lake, but it is
enough to make a difference. It’s hot and we splash each other. Martin hits me
with his paddle a few times as he wriggles to get comfortable, and I grumble at
him, but actually it doesn’t hurt, and I mentally tell myself off for being
grumpy. He is not used to sitting in this position as much as I am. I often sit
on the floor or ground. I wonder if this is really a good sport for him, but he
reassures me he is fine. We are together, learning and enjoying. We are not
perfect at this exercise yet, but we will get better.
There are more people swimming and playing now it is the
afternoon, many passing by on their small, hired boats. One of which had two
people bailing out at the back as they head down to where the boats are hired
out. I wonder if they have sprung a leak? I hope they manage to travel the 7 km
before they sink. Nothing travels at speed on this part of the lake, that’s reserved
for an area in a slightly wider part of the lake near a ‘beach,’ and swimming
areas.
We turn a corner, and all is quiet, I slip out of the kayak
for a swim and Martin paddles on, turns around, comes back, drifts. It’s
freeing to swim, and I can now enjoy using some energy knowing it won’t be long
before we are back at the port. I feel like I could swim all the way back, but
it would take too long, and I would be exhausted. I call Martin and he waits
for me to catch up. The front of the boat is quite high out if the water with
Martin in the back and no-one in the front. I kick hard to propel my body into
the boat and end up lying across the kayak, laughing, and wondering just how to
get in properly. It’s not elegantly done, but I manage and am soon paddling
again. Gentle strokes all the way to the port.
A lovely first adventure on our kayak, and we look forward to
many more. We are even talking about digging out our wetsuits from…uhem…twenty
odd years ago to see if they still fit so we can kayak when it’s not as warm as
today. It’s good to have dreams!
We managed about 5 km down the lake, halfway to the bridge, Pont de la Pyle, but as we wove back and forth across the water, I guess we did far more. We don’t care how far it was, we enjoyed the different exercise. Both of us have a sore on our left hands but that’s okay, next time we may wear some old cycling gloves.
This is a learning curve, and we are at the bottom of it looking forward to the journey.
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