Perils of Caffeine in the Evening

I was confident enough Saturday that my Buckeyes wouldn’t need me to defeat Cincinnati that I joined a group of folks for a kayak outing on Budd Inlet near Olympia.  I haven’t done very much paddling in the south Puget Sound, so I signed up.

We met at a pretty little bay called Boston Harbor to launch

Click any photo to enlarge

While I waited for others to arrive, I partook of a tasty crop of blackberries growing along the shore. Of course, the plumpest, sweetest ones were sequestered in the depths of a thicket of thorns that even grizzlies would hesitate to plunge into.  But, man, they were tasty, ripened to the tipping point between mature fruit and blackberry liqueur.   There’s always a little sadness associated with the taste, as it signals the end of summer.

The trip started out in sunshine and nearly flat water, so smooth at times that our unperturbed reflections sailed along beneath our hulls.

(editor’s note: The photos above were taken with my Canon S3 IS, a 6 megapixel with a 12x optical zoom.  It just rocks.  The following photos were taken with my Canon S300, as I have a waterproof case for it.  I’m chafing a bit at the quality, as well as the zoom limitations.  Canon doesn’t make a waterproof case for the S3 IS, but there are some expensive workarounds that I have eschewed in the name of thrift.  Until now.  Watch this space…)

Just before lunch, however, a rain squall passed over, and we scrambled to raft up and help each other retrieve raingear that each of us had brought, but buried deep in cargo hatches because we were certain we wouldn’t need it.  Once we had completed the task of half-disrobing, donning raingear and re-fitting with lifejackets and sprayskirts, it inevitably stopped raining.  In case you’re wondering, the woman below is sporting the quintessential spring/fall northwest outdoor look - full-on raingear to ward off the deluge just passed, and sunglasses to cope with the Saharan sun that swiftly follows it. 

A raft full of mergansers, fresh from a session with their punk hairdressers, was oblivious to the squall and the need to prepare for it.

I’m a sucker for clever boat names.  Couldn’t pass this one up:

As we returned to Boston Harbor Marina, the sun broke through a suckerhole and highlighted the ships, masts and cottages on the shore.

And, BTW, OSU 37, Cincinnati 7.  Bring on State Penn!