It was 50 degrees in Berkeley yesterday. A bit chillier on the bay, perhaps, what with the wind whipping in from the Golden Gate. Can you say “whitecaps?” Can you say “mid-winter conditions?”
But my wife, Katrine, wanted a kayak lesson for her birthday, and whatever my lovely wife wants, she gets. It got complicated when she begged me to join her. To say that I’m not the kayak-lesson type is an understatement, but I agreed on the condition that we schedule our lesson for Memorial Day weekend: you know, the FIRST WEEKEND OF SUMMER, when it would be nice and HOT OUTSIDE. As IF.
As the photos indicate, Katrine’s attitude was just the teeniest bit more positive than mine, despite enduring what we endured: waking up EARLY, slithering into a slimy wetsuit, “spray skirt,” and damp kayak jacket (not a good look for either of us, although her blue eyes gave her a distinct advantage, attractiveness-wise) at 9 a.m. on a holiday weekend, shivering through a two-hour lesson on shore, being plopped into a boat, if you can call it that, that was even less stable than I am, then being shoved out into roiling, foggy, freezing, near-tsunami conditions to fare for ourselves with only a plastic paddle—resembling those little wooden sticks that used to come with single-serving cups of Breyers ice cream—to defend ourselves.
At the end of the 6-hour lesson we were forced to capsize ourselves. Yes, into the drink. On purpose. Otherwise, no passing the class. And no certification to get to DO THIS AGAIN FOR PLEASURE. Talk about your basic WTF situation.
As you can see, even Katrine suffered a moment of doubt when she paddled into the dock which was located approximate four miles above sea level and she wondered how she would get her body and her boat out of the water and onto the dock without taking another, um, swim.
In all fairness, I’ll mention that there were donuts. My surfer son, Peter, always eats donuts after a surf session and now I see why. You just can’t have enough body fat for this kind of insanity.
There’s only one possible explanation for my having not only endured this, but paid for it. You got it. In a word (okay, two): True Love.
To view a slideshow of our kayaking experience, click here.
Meredith Maran is a frequent contributor to MORE. Her new book, True and False, will be published in 2010.
