OKC Kayak Word Soup

Well, it is official, we are relocating our office.  Goodbye asiago cheese and cinnamon crunch bagels.  Hasta la vista frontega chicken sandwiches.  See ya’ later you yum yum cookies and pastries.  I am upwardly mobile.  And I do mean mobile.  Yes, as of a few hours ago, I finally have an internet connection at my house and no longer need to scrounge a WIFI signal around town to access the internet and my email.

Maybe you are wondering what the big deal is all about?  I mean how hard could it be to have the internet installed in one’s home?  Let me just say, pretty darn tough.  Since my house is not in a neighborhood (no, it is not a large cardboard refrigerator box either), neither the cable guys nor the phone company would even return calls requesting installation of an internet feed.  The problem is that they tell me, “Your house does not exist.”  I regularly have to fight this same battle with all the package delivery guys as well.  In their defense, my house is hard to find, but nonetheless exists.  

After years of selling plasma and collecting roadside cans for recycling, I finally have saved enough to be able to get an air card for my laptop.  This allows me to connect anywhere that there is a cell phone signal.  I no longer have an excuse to hang out at Panera Bread, What-A-Donut, or any of my other favorite WIFI hangouts.  Anyway, I am off to my cupboard to grab a Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pie!   

First, let me say thanks for continuing to read all the weird and crazy posts. Here is another one for ya!

OLYMPIC TRIALS UPDATE

Well, if you have been reading my previous posts, you would know that I had schemed big plans to throw the race and take home the gold. Here is how things actually panned out. Saturday morning, I awoke to find myself drooling on my leather sofa, my back and knees still aching from the day before. Friday night, I had only barely made it through my front door before falling victim to sixteen hours of standing on my feet in the sun. A sweat and sunscreen based outline of my body remains on my couch, strongly resembling the police chalk silhouette that encircles the dead guy on the sidewalk. The saddest part is that apparently the 247 ounce bottle of NO-AD sunscreen I purchased about a decade prior, must have passed its half life, because I got cooked despite the application of copious amounts of this white goop. I would later lie and attribute my red face to an early morning Jose Cuervo binge rather than admit that I was silly enough to let myself get burned so badly.

I got to my booth at the crack of dawn on a day that was proving itself to be far less windy than the one prior. It was so windy the day before, my legs were flailing wildly through the air as I tried my best to hang onto the pole of our booth’s tent. Yesterday, it was all I could do to manage to dodge all the dogs, dust, and kittens that were flying through the sky.

Jason in one of our new tee shirts
(Order them on our web site!)

A new OKC Kayak hat and T-shirt were plucked from the box of wares that I would be peddling later today. Replacing my own hat and shirt became a daily ritual because these would become so soaked with perspiration that incineration was the only proper method of disposal. Not to be naive two days in a row, today I lathered up with so much sunscreen, three kids walking by thought I was a mime and gave me a buck. I think this was the first money that we made all weekend, so I saved it to later put in a frame.

Today would prove to be much busier than the day before. Luckily, I had some friends there to help. A few of these “helpers” would fall into the category of older and more experienced. I mean, these guys knew how to bring people in and get them interested in joining us for a party or a trip. My favorite line of the weekend (no joke) which was frequently offered by Jay Brannon, “You can come out and try some different boats for free, and if you don’t die, you get to pick one out.” I guess that is what you get when you put a contact lens salesmen trying to sell kayaks. Then there was sixty eight year old, Earl “Chainsaw” Miller” who kept trying to “sell” me to the attractive gals at the booth next door, despite repeated comments about how they already had boyfriends. If I was not red before, now I surely was! Seriously, if it were not for all of my nice friends, I could not have pulled this gig off. They ran things flawlessly even when I was occupied by other events and away from the booth. Every time I looked towards the row of tents housing the vendors, it was always the OKC Kayak booth that had the crowd engaged and gathered around. I finally figured out how they were doing this. Apparently, if someone had that glazed over look on their face like they were going to pretend that we were invisible and just walk right on past, Tony Ward and Lolli Shotts would throw an eight foot kayak paddle across the path causing them to fall. We may have broken a lot of little old ladies’ hips, but by George, we taught them not to ignore us.

Speaking of little old ladies, Saturday afternoon I received a call from a dear friend, Esther Enteshary. She said she was thinking about coming out with a pal of hers, but was a little hesitant because this lady is a tad fragile. I assured her that I would throw myself in front of a golf cart, causing them to stop, and then deliver them from the far reaches of the parking area. It was not until they had arrived that I found out that her friend, Ms. Peanut Jones from Mustang Oklahoma, was 101 YEARS OLD.

No kidding, this gal did not look a day older than one hundred, and was as witty and spry as could be. She wanted to see some kayak races, by gosh, and kayak races she would see. (I really believe that she was there to stare googly eyed at all the male athletes.) She was quite the star of the show as I paraded her around, introducing her to everyone as my girlfriend. Incidentally, she clutched her purse tighter every time that I repeated this. She received the standard repertoire of questions about what she attributes her age and good looks to. It was windy, but I am pretty sure her response had something to do with all the drugging and drinking she had done. We outfitted Peanut with a new OKC Kayak hat and promised that she could have another free one when she surpassed the next century mark. Then we stuck her in a kayak so that we could shamelessly use her age to promote the fact that we offer something for everyone. She even went through the motions of pulling a kayak paddle through the water as she sat in the asphalt parking lot. We told her she really was kayaking, and I am pretty sure that she did not know the difference due to the cataracts on her eyes. We then quickly shuffled her out of there because we knew Bank of America was sponsoring this event and was likely going to try and con Peanut into signing up for a reverse mortgage or something. (Bank of America, this is only a joke, please keep letting us borrow your money).

Peanut and I said our tearful farewells, and I made my way towards the restroom where I would remove all the lipstick from my face. Meanwhile, the dragon boat races were under way. Dragon boating is the ancient sport of taking a whole bunch of amateurs, giving them one hour of practice, putting them in this giant dugout looking canoe thing with a dragon head and tail, and matching them up head to head with other generous corporate sponsors. Race after race went by, and when all was said and done, it was Bank of America versus the Oklahoma City Fire Department in the grand finale. This race was not even close. The boys from the firehouse annihilated the bankers. Rumor has it that the results may get thrown out, because the firefighters ran off before the officials could test for performance enhancing drugs.

Yours truly - These things even make me look good!
(Really, you can order them on our web site!)

Well, now that I have nobody left to loan the business money or put out my house when it catches on fire, I better offer my sincere thanks and appreciation to a few folks. Thank you to Chesapeake Boathouse Foundation and the US Olympic Trials for allowing us weirdos to be present at this great event. Lolli Shotts, you did an awesome job of getting the brochures designed and printed, and helping out at the booth. Also helping set up, work, and tear down the booth, Dr. Earl Miller, Dr. David Brinker, Tony Ward, Jason Tyler (Jason also did the last minute graphics design on our new business cards because the original printing company failed to get them done on time. This was the night before the event, and I was so beat that I could not do this myself), Amber Tyler, Peanut Jones, and Jay Brannon. You have no idea how honored I feel knowing that you would do this for me. Thank you to the Sunday morning radio crew at KRXO who gave us the free plug.  We appreciate this! And, lastly, thank you so much to all the neat people who were kind enough to stop by the booth and give us a bit of your time. I know that I speak for everyone that helped with our booth when I say, as exhausting as these events can be, we get great pleasure from our interactions with all who stopped in. We look forward to paddling with you soon. -DL-

Well, the road to Gold is upon us and let me say this little street begins with me.  After the first full day of watching the Olympic Trials, I have come to the conclusion that this is my chance.  Never again will I be this close to competing in an Olympic event.  So here is the plan.  Tomorrow, right as the Men’s K1 (one person kayaking) heats are about to begin, I am going to throw my 38 inch wide, 85 pound recreational kayak over the fence and charge the course.   I am certain that if I shave my legs and show up wearing a tiny pair of shorts so tight no one will want to look my way, I will be on the water before anyone recognizes me as an imposture.  I then will light my one black cat firecracker, causing all the other competitors to have a false start.  This disqualification will open it up for me to easily win the 500 meter in the first ever time of 9482 seconds.  Now, at this point, I likely will be high tailing it out of there, because even the women out there could easily kick my butt (and that is just the ladies working the snack bar). 

Well, I am on my way to the drug store to get some more disposible Bics.  Watch for me, I’ll be the guy with all the razor nicks and black and blues.  Stay tuned for another update. 

So you and your friends are out this weekend tooling around the Olympic Trials when suddenly something attractive catches your eye.  Matter of fact, not just pretty, but absolutely beautiful.  You can’t control yourself, and you decide that you have to place your hand all over this object of your desires.  Okay, so I am boasting a little.  Don’t write me off as a MCP (Male Chauvinist Pig) just yet.  I am actually speaking of the our new brochure.  It truly did turn out quite nice.  Sadly, I cannot take the credit for this.  It was designed and produced by Lolli Shotts, whom many of you know as the gal who always paddles the red Necky Eliza with the larger than life smile on her face.  She tells me that she might not be at the social paddle for a while because she has no skin left on her thumbs and forefingers from handfolding about fifty jillion of these things.  She did all this with about two days advance notice, no less! We have hidden talents lurking all over the place in our group of paddle friends.  One guy can do surgery on your eyeball, another gal (my sister actually) makes sure the cats and dogs of OKC are spayed and neutered (she regularly asks my brother’s girlfriends if they have been spayed, but that is a whole other story).  We have woodworkers, ballerinas, pilots, mechanics and much more wearing the hat of paddler. As for me, my talents are hidden, and will remain that way! Thank you Lolli for dedicating your time and talents to help us out.  Dave

The very title of this post is practically an oxymoron.  It is said time and time again, “98 percent of kayakers are really good people.”  This has certainly been my experience.  No other sport or activity I have been involved in has offered such a friendly, helpful, and accepting group of people.  No matter your age, interests, or ability, the common bond of kayaking is simply enough.  Don’t take my word for it.  Join us for a social paddle and you will soon discover what I am talking about.  We regularly get a mixed group ranging from athletes to the casual paddler.  Young folks and the more seasoned (okay, who we fooling, the old fogies.  Ha!) mingle easily no matter the fact that they may have been perfect strangers minutes before.  So discover the automatic path to more friends and start kayaking today.   

 …..oh, and by the way, pull me aside some time and I will tell you who the other two percent are!

We strive to offer a wide variety of trips and classes, but would love to hear directly from you what you would like to see.  Whether it is more trips with lodging included, weekday classes and offerings, or whatever else, feel free to speak up.  Your honest feedback is greatly appreciated.  No worries about hurting our feelings either.  We are pretty thick skinned.  Your comments will only help us to continue to stay on top of our game.  Thanks for your time.  –Dave Lindo–

Ever wonder what kayak guides do in their spare time?  The phrase “busman’s holiday” comes to mind.  Yeah, that is right, when we are not paddling for work, we are probably paddling for fun! 

Yesterday was the perfect example.  At 9:00 a.m. I made the executive decision to cancel the evening social paddle because the winds were forecast to blow 25-35 knots.  While this sounds like nothing more than a great time for the experienced and properly prepared paddler, these were no conditions for the social group. 

As predicted, by afternoon the winds were really beginning to puff.  Buried under a bundle of work, I had all but squelched the strong voices in my head (well, most of them anyway!) that were telling me what a great day this would be to kayak at the lake.  Then, my friend Jason called, planting the seed of a storm paddle.  Okay, I am a sucker for kayaking invites.  I am weak.  I succombed.  Jason called me several minutes before I pulled up to the put-in.  “It is so windy out here that I almost can’t stand up!”  I could hear the grin in his voice as he spoke.  Little did he know, I honestly had just put my Wilderness First Responder skills to use at the local Panera Bread, because a fragile elderly man got blown over by the wind, gashing his head wide open. 

Upon arriving at the lake, I continued to make the usual risk assessments for myself and for Jason.  Neither of us are egomaniacs willing to push the envelope to the point of stupidity or injury.  The wind truly was howling.  Hefner Lake was whipped up into something a bit more marine looking.  The four foot swells were cast as bloody red as the senior’s head that I had just attended to.  Even the air spoke of the fierce and violent winds, as they too were hazed with earth scraped from somewhere in New Mexico, I am sure.  It was an onshore wind from where we were launching from, which would serve to blow us right back where we started if gear or people got seperated from the boats.  So, our environmental risks that we needed to plan for were the cold water (I had already told Jason that he would swim today), and the shallow near shore waters.  After getting suited up in drysuits and helmets, we reviewed our safety gear which included Personal Flotation Devices, Rescue Tow Belts, Paddle Floats for reentry, VHF marine radio, and rocket flares.   I then notified the bystanders that this was not so much a kayak paddle as it was a swimming lesson for Jason.  I asked them not to be alarmed or notify 911 if they saw someone in the water, unless I shot off a flare. 

The winds were obviously much greater than predicted by the weatherman, clocking in at an eyelash ripping 50 plus m.p.h.  We took the boats to the shore one at a time, enlisting a windsurfer to hold one boat while launching the other.  Otherwise the wind would have the kayak tumbling through the air like a new kitesurfer.  I launched Jason first, helping to make a quick sprayskirt attachment before the giant waves filled his cockpit with “liquid New Mexico.”  Jason launched out into the waves, paddling like a drowning alley cat on crystal meth.  The bow of his boat repeatly lifted out of the air as he climbed each new swell, only to slam down into the next wave face.  Simultaneously, the wind played tug of war with him, trying to get him to relinquish his grip on the paddle.  It was work, but he was making his way upwind.  I jumped in my boat, only to have it weathercock parallel to the oncoming waves prior to me getting my skirt on.  I took on a little bit of water before getting it attached, then went to work trying to both high brace and keep my fiberglass boat off the rocky shore.  I finally got the boat headed in the right direction, gaining on Jason’s position.  He was really impressing me with his stability on the bucking waves.  My boat was so light in the bow that it started weathervaning every time I was on the crest of the wave, broaching my boat sideways.  Several times, I reversed my boat, paddling backwards into the surf.  I could see that this was going to become fatiguing in a hurry, so I sidesurfed back into shore while watching Jason who was negotiating his return as well.  He too, was sitting in a parallel orientation to the waves for quite some time.  Then he suddenly had the urge to do wet exit practice instead of storm surfing.  He climbed back into the flooded cockpit, but was not making very fast progress in getting back the last 100 yards to shore.  I communicated to him that he should abandon his boat and paddle, letting them blow in to where I was standing on the lake’s edge.  (After all, this is all I cared about since both items belonged to me.  Ha!) I knew that it would be easier for him to body surf back in, which he readily did.  We both got our workout for the day, and I know every friend and family member of Jason’s is tired of hearing his stories about how much fun he had storm paddling!

Again, I will emphasize that this was a personal paddle in which we were within our abilities and training, and all possible risks were anticipated and mitigated for.   Paddling in these conditions could definitely be hazardous to your health if you are not properly trained, prepared for, or aware of the potential dangers involved.  We practice these things in controlled conditions to better enable us for the unlikely event that we ever were caught in a windstorm on open waters.  By the way, are you signed up for our next Rescue and Reentry Class yet???

As I am sure most of you are already aware, we have the Olympic Trials for sprint kayaking and canoeing right here in Oklahoma City next week.  Today we were given the additional exciting news that OKC Kayak will be more than a small part of the action.  Drop in and see the best kayakers this country has to offer the Beijing Olympics.  While you are there, visit one of our seminars or exhibits we are hosting at this event, and say hello! 

Well, we made a pretty nice transition from the old newsletter notification system to the new. We have lots of folks subscribed to both the social paddle and workout paddle listserves. Don’t forget, you too can post to the listserve once you join for free.

Ten of us met for the Sunday social paddle at Lake Arcadia. We were graced by the presence of several new paddlers and a beautiful, eighty degree day. It was nice to paddle a place that we don’t get to visit near often enough. See you this Thursday for our next Social Paddle!

Any day kayaking is a good day. This one in particular is fantastic as it brings on the addition of this blog. Check back to see exciting news of upcoming trips, reports of events, and just about anything else we think you might be interested in. Although, on occasion, we just might add something only we’re interested in. There are comment sections to keep us on track so feel free to let us know what’s on your mind. Just remember, we have tough skin but longer memories and revenge is oh such a sweet thing when aged. . .