To the Cottage: Arrival

After that we reached the cottage. Yay. Loo and I talked the days coming to today about canoeing out there because they had a canoe at the cottage. It had been a long time since I got my canoeing merit badge, but somethings you don’t forget, you know? I was ready to canoe the wild blue yonder.

We opened the garage up. And there behind everything else was the canoe. Loo and Gammy started doing the, “Oh gosh I don’t know if you can get to it,” thing. Followed by the, “It’s late in the day,” thing and the, “It’s windy, you need your paddling arms for tomorrow when we go down the river,” thing. And finally ending with the, “we can come back to the cottage in the future,” thing.

It bummed me out. We don’t have lakes we can splash and paddle in close by in Cali.

***

But Today is the next day, and we are going to a place to rent a kayak and go down the river for five hours, so that should be cool. I made a sandwich and Loo packed the water. We should be ready to go. I’ll try to take pictures and write about it.

***

What an experience that was. First the top memories, the ones that stand out. The owner had a Rottweiler named Lucy. She was a pretty girl and friendly and reminded me of Nina back home, mom's Rottweiler. I have a soft spot for rotties, my mom loves them and our first two dogs were Rottweilers, one of the greatest dogs we have ever owned, which is saying a lot. My brother learned how to walk by clutching Eva's fur and both of them walking one step at a time. There isn't a dog I relate to, respond to, understand or enjoy more than a Rottweiler, having grown up around them, I just get them. And I like them, and I saw that Lucy was a sweetheart, wagging her whole body and her little nub.

But Gammy didn't like her. She doesn't like Rottweilers, "Because they are vicious, mean dogs and can't be trusted," she said shaking her head, disgust plain on her face.

"Right cause all Rottweilers are the same," I said. She didn't say anything, but wore a guarded face. I think she understood my comment to be a sardonic one about her stereotyping rottweilers, but she didn't want to show it. At least she was aware of her prejudice.

I made a show of calling Lucy over and rubbing her all over and patting her flanks like I would on Nina (or any big dog) and said, "What a vicious and mean man-eater you are. Yes you are. You can't be trusted can you? No you can't, any minute now you're going to bite my face off." Lucy licked my arms and

neck before going down and rolling onto her back so I could rub her tummy. "Yes, this is all a ruse to lure me in for the fatal bite, what an evil dog you are. Yes you are." Gammy left quickly. She went to talk to the owner while Loo and I took turns hugging Lucy and taking pictures. Like this one of Loo hugging this godless killing machine. She is so brave. Can you see the evil/hate in that dog's eyes?

The trip down the river was nice, through heavily wooded areas, and some people's backyards. I saw animals I had never seen before like beavers and muskrats. There were a pair of deer drinking from the river as we slipped by, although I was the only one who was interested in them. Deer out here are a nuisance, dangerous, disease ridden animals who need to be hunted to keep their numbers in check. Different than seeing deer in Cali, which would be considered a rare treat, you'd be lucky to see one. For the residents seeing a deer in Michigan is like seeing a ford Taurus, who cares?

I had to share the two person kayak with Gammy who was very unadventurous. There would be an island that split the river to either side, and one side looked a little quicker, or less obvious than the other and I'd start steering towards it.

"Where are you going? We need to be going left."

"Don't you want to be adventurous and go right? Who knows what's back there."

"Uhh. No." She said this in a way that made my question sound ridiculous, like I asked her to go cliff diving or something. We spent the rest of the time paddling in the center of the calm river, like a long pond. I got bored, and a little annoyed at paddling by all these places that could be explored. I think Loo saw that in my face and steered her Kayak into ours, bonking the plastic kayaks together.

"Goll, Laura. Watch where you're going," Gammy said looking away.

"Sorry Gammy, I'm new to kayaking," Loo said. Maybe Gammy believed her the first time, but we bonked kayaks quite a few more times and that excuse stopped working. It probably made her doubt the first explanation too. It broke the monotony up though and I thanked her.

We saw ducks, and geese and birds and some fish. We ate lunch on a tiny island in the middle of the river, which almost didn't happen because Gammy wanted to eat on the sand bar (she had been down this part of the river before), but Loo quickly pointed out that we didn't know where along the river the sandbar part was.

Parts of the river were totally devoid of human activity, and I started to think, "Wow an untouched little pocket of the forest. The birds are sing--" Just then a train sounded its air horn. It ruined the fantasy that the place was untouched by man. I wanted the fantasy, but after hearing the reality I preferred it more than the fantasy. Nothing says nature was here than a woodpecker pecking at the same time as the train blew its horn.

***