Kayaking Around

Kayaks have been on my mind. I’m trying to build 3 different alphabet prints/posters that tell our story of the Tetons and I keep tying the letter K to kayaks.

The alphabet posters will go along with a grownup alphabet book. I think. My plan keeps changing. My flexibility sometimes gets in my way. Generally,  I like my flexibility–both the mental and physical kinds.

Kayaks demand all sorts of flexibility. Our primary goal is to get into our kayak with the effortless and silent approach that Natty Bumpo mastered in The Last of the Mohicans, but as a friend once told us, “Look what happened to him.” We keep plugging away though.

Mostly, all this kayak thinking has led to a list. I love lists.

Here are the most significant kayak memories I have. They are organized by the river or lakes where they happened.

String Lake:

  1.  Going to Jenny Lake Lodge for the first time in 1996  and learning to kayak were simultaneous events. We spent the mornings hiking and the afternoons practicing our kayaking skills on String Lake because it was shallow. We wouldn’t die there. We worked on paddling together and steering and various speeds. It’s a lot like figuring out sex when things are new. There’s a lot of silent communication and coordination.
  2. We followed a blue heron along the shore in the learning years. We’d sneak the kayak up close to him and he’d do a hook flight to a branch down the store. It was nice.
  3. Once, we got up at 5:00 in the morning and went out on String before breakfast. We figured the critters would be up and it would be a wildlife bonanza. There were no critters. We were eaten alive by mosquitos.

Jenny Lake:

  1. On our first outing, we hugged the edges of Jenny Lake. We couldn’t believe how brave we’d been. I mean, Jim doesn’t even really swim.
  2. Once on the north side of Jenny, we started hearing banjo music. Normally we hear birds, marmots, squirrels, water noises, boat noises, and people talking on trails. Not banjo music. There was a guy sitting on a log and playing his banjo. He told us he liked to hear the sound spreading across the water. We heard him when we were as far away as the Jenny overlook on the east side of the lake.
  3. On the northwest shore, we found an osprey nest and watched the couple and new chicks each summer. We saw the male dive and catch a fish one year.  Beautiful. They are gone now. A new couple found a place nearby last summer. We hope they’ll stay as long as the first pair did. 
  4.  We’d been kayaking 4 or 5 years and were feeling we had things under control. We decided to explore the Cascade River where it spills into Jenny. The current suddenly exploded and we flipped the kayak trying to get out of there. We were terrified. We sat on the embankment after we rescued ourselves and the kayak and didn’t say anything. Then we started laughing and laughing. It’s as close to a Hemingway moment as we’ve had.

Two Ocean Lake:

  1. We headed out to circle the lake and a pair of trumpeter swans and their signets swam in front of us. They were gorgeous and we watched and waited for them to clear our path. We started forward and the swan parents reared up on their legs, flapped their wings, honked like demons, and ran across the top of the water to attack us.   One wee signet hadn’t made it across and was trembling in the reeds. We all survived.
  2. We’d seen what looked to be a white sandy beach on the far side of the lake and decided we’d take a picnic over there. When we arrived, there was no sand–just rocks covered in goose shit. Things didn’t go according to plan.
  3. On our last visit there, we put the kayak in the lake and I climbed in, sat down, and discovered my feet were covered with leeches. We don’t go to Two Ocean Lake anymore.

The Snake River:

  1. We decided we wanted to float down the Snake River from the dam down beyond Oxbox Bend. We did it and it was glorious and then we turned around and paddled UP the Snake. Incredibly hard, but exhilarating. We floated down and paddled up again. People thought we were crazy. We probably were.
  2. We did the Snake two other times. Each with friends and enough cars we didn’t need to paddle up the river. Lots of eagles and ospreys and kingfishers on those rides.

Jackson Lake:

  1.  We often kayak from Spalding Bay up to Moran Bay. The park service closed this entry to the lake for a year and the following year when we returned, there were eagles sitting on branches everywhere. It was as though Disney had taken over and created a Teton eagle ride. The next year the eagles were gone because the people had returned.
  2. We left from Colter Bay and headed up to Leek’s Marina. When we pulled our kayak ashore, a group of foreign tourists left a bus and flooded the beach. Several went into our kayak, grabbed our paddles, and began inviting others to try out the boat. Some climbed on a sailboat where a couple was busily bringing down the sails. We failed to do anything about this at first. We finally just got in line and got in the boat and took off back into the lake.

Leigh Lake:

  1. The first big storm we faced was on Leigh. You can’t always predict storms in the Tetons. I sit in the front of the kayak and the wind and rain and waves crashing in on me froze my hands and face. I was strong enough to hold my own though. We fought a storm again last summer. The storm was just as scary, but I wasn’t nearly as frightened this time. I still got drenched.
  2. We watched otters play on a rock near the north end of the lake. Pretty rare.
  3. We’ve seen both a moose and a bear swim across the lake. Both pretty close to the kayak.
  4. We saw an eagle stripping and eating a fish on a big, flat boulder. I made a notecard from that memory. 
  5. We watched two eagles dancing among the pines close to the north end of the lake. We followed them playing and dancing for about 20 minutes. Then they flew straight up in the air, grasped talons and began spiraling down to the earth for the final mating procedure (it’s spectacular, but quick). We’ve never seen anything as amazing as this was.

That’s it for now.

 

 

Oxbow Bend in Grand Teton National Park

This week’s featured cards shows  Oxbox Bend in Grand Teton National Park.

The Tetons are my bliss station. They frame each year for me. The space, the solitude, and the beauty fill me up with some surety of goodness.

When Mom’s Alzheimer’s led me to draw my way out of my own maze of reactions, I started by drawing the Tetons. I drew what I loved.

I drew the cabins at Jenny Lake Lodge where we stay, our cabin, spots along the park highway like Oxbow Bend, and the mountains. I even drew our two favorite tables for dinner.

 

These drawings became the basis for my first two collections of notecards and became my first sale just about a year ago. They are the bulk of a new order for cards this year.

I am so grateful for the miracle of accidents and generous help from friends that made all this possible. I am also counting the days until I return to the Tetons and Jenny Lake Lodge.

Jackson Lake Lodge

Jackson Lake Lodge is one of those quintessential National Park places. The deck on the back side of the lodge looks straight west at The Tetons. Sometimes there are moose in the willow flats below the deck. Sometimes not. Sometimes afternoon thunderstorms roll in and the lightning does acrobatics above the outlines of the mountains. We can spend a lot of time on this deck.

The back of the lodge is a mosaic of huge windows.  Inside the building, the mountains are framed by those windows and the lodge is known for them.

We love walking up to the lodge. The building blends into the trees and the Tetons behind the lodge are invisible. All our trips to the Tetons begin when we walk up this path.

We’ve always stayed in the cottages. Once a bull moose ate the bushes on our cottage porch and then peed all over it. Noisy.

Jackson Lake Lodge is a wonderful place.

 

Dreaming of Wyoming Spaces

The windows are open and birds are making noises outside. The sun is out and the wind is bending the junipers in front of the kitchen window. It feels like spring.

I start dreaming of the Tetons in the spring. We return each year in July and drive the same route. When I struggle to sleep, I begin thinking about the drive we’ll take to get to the mountains in a few months. There are so many images along the way that I love.

We leave Denver and breakfast on German sausage and eggs at Johnson’s Corner not too far from Loveland. It’s a great truck stop and  I think the waitresses worked there when I was a little girl.

It’s still pretty early when we see windmills churning away north of I80. They break the empty Wyoming sky with linear technology. It is beautiful.  Especially in a dark morning storm. We are 40 minutes from Rawlins and then we leave the highway and enter real western spaces.

I daydream my way through miles of arroyos, an occasional antelope, dried pools left over from spring storms, and then I rejoice when Split Rock is in sight.

Split Rock is pink when we see it headed to the Tetons.  The color is different when we return home.  Light does wonderful things in empty spaces.  Georgia O’Keeffe knew this.

Before we hit Lander there is a spot in the road where the road goes on forever and yellowed grass bends in the wind.  It reminds me of my friend Barbara who loves this same spot and reminds me that it doesn’t take purple mountain majesties or dazzling green forests to find beauty. Empty spaces are beautiful.

The last wide open vista on our journey is after we’ve been through Dubois.  Dubois is a gorgeous little town and the last stop for gas before we head to the mountains and into the Tetons. We are an hour away now.

A half an hour later, the last of the big Wyoming vistas appears. The road curves and you can see Togwotee Pass and the first of the northwest mountains. The landscape is green and wet for the first time. The grass is green. The trees are green. The light has moved and the faces of these first mountains are dark against the sky and you can’t even see them if a storm is brewing.

There is nothing but forests and mountains from this point on–the kind you see on postcards. There is a moment when I first see the Tetons. I always cry. These mountains heal my soul. I cry when I daydream about them too.

The Wyoming Spaces Collection is all about my daydreams this spring. I just drew them this time.