And the waves roll in

Recently I was informed that some one had started an early morning trend to climb to some mountain summit and take a. Canada Day Sunrise .“What a great idea” I said, quickly grinning because I have been up to this mischief for many a year.

Just prior to finishing high school, I was asked to provide my younger uncle from Yorkshire, a truly unique San Francisco experience. We drove to Mount Tamalpais, hiked up the road (the gate was closed prior to sunrise) and caught the first rays of sunshine rising over Mt Diablo.

A few years later, as a canoe guide, I convinced young adults Michigan and Ohio to paddle through the mist into a new day in Quetico Park in Ontario. I even started a family tradition and navigated the inconceivable morning traffic of Tiburon just to watch the sun rise above Mt Diablo.

So when I finally parked my truck in the early hours of the morning at a stray parking lot north of Qualicum Beach, I had no need to rationalize the long drive from Victoria. After a few ackward hours of attemptin to sleep inside my crowded Ford Explorer “Ataboy”, my phone alarm went off.

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I crawled out to great the day. It was still quiet and dark. The beach was empty and so was the parking lot. I was in the process of seeking out a viewing spot when a car pulled up. “Who was this person?” I wondered and felt my own private moment was about to be invaded. What could lure another out of a peaceful slumber? I went over to my truck, said hello and the man, who was somewhat alert, told me he was about to get wet. Quietly, I wondered, “Was he a paddler like my self? Was he going for a sunrise swim? What was he up to?”.

I decided to sit down and just accepted the fact that watching sunrises was now simply a new fad. I looked to my left and noticed that my parking lot partner was now rigged up in his gear of waders, fishing vest and fly rod. He marched into the rising tide and took up a spot right smack in the middle of my field of view. Soon he and several other anglers created a phenomena of fishing heaven prior to my first click. Yes, here was the first true early morning dawn watchers. Long before a note of “Oh Canada” was sung by the masses, there was whispers on the phone about about this random piece of beach that was a secret hot spot. How I had found it was just a fluke. Was it fate? I didn’t consider this since the first cup of coffee was at least an hour away and I was just wondering how a pair of toddlers goggles had been left behind on the log I was sitting on. The sun was slow in rising and my enthusiasm for paddling waned as I entertained thoughts of flying hooks going into my inflatable board. So I quickly took some snaps and sought out breakfast. I decided to keep the photos to share but I promise  to keep the location a secret.

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In a tourist town, the hours of operation are relative to tourist hours. Besides my fly fishing enthusiast, who probably had been smart enough to bring a thermos, the cup of Joe was not even being sold at a Tim Horton’s. So I drove around, found some bunnies who had already found their breakfast and waited for a local coffee shop to open. As one of the first customers, the local staff was content to just share information. Yes. they paddled boarded and the best spot was a lake name Spider lake. I dove into a truckers breakfast, read the local paper and wondered how this day would evolve. Could I follow this tidal flow of events, from morning anglers to a a lake named after an arachnid? I had planned only to visit a surf shop, Island Surf. I had read that it was one of the first both to get paddle boarding happening in BC and perhaps Canada. I was lured in to a desire to meet the big Kahuna, Colin Kearns, and learn the ways of the paddle from one of the front runners. Yet at seven in the morning, his shop was not yet open and neither were my eyelids. A few more cups of coffee, a fruit salad and eggs and I decided to find Spider lake. It was right there on the map, just off the highway and nestled in between some coastal mountains.

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I arrived and started inflate Clarity. Even my own board was reluctant to inflate or what it the guy at the pump. I was beginning to rationalize the investment of an electric pump when a family showed up, unloaded their plastic kayaks and went quickly off to the beach. I continued to pump when another couple showed up to walk their dog and the park attendant went by picking up evening party folks waste. By the time I got onto the water, the quiet of the morning was still a distinct possibility.

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I was able to sneak up on a family of geese who were just loading up on shore grass and had a little chat with an aging kayaker who was wondering if he could adapt to a paddle board. I was content to share all the great things about my board and it wasn’t even eight thirty yet! Who were all these morning people? I sat down on Clarity and decide to just let the clouds drift across the mirror surface of the lake. This was the reward of waking up prior to the sun. I smiled and recalled my parking lot partner catching the first fish of the day. There was the arc of his rod and the slow methodic reeling in of a salmon to the shore line. Due to the low rivers, anglers were having a field day of catching salmons staging to return to their home rivers. Meanwhile, a canoe went by with a fishing rig absentmindly set in it’s stern. This was fishing with just the intent to get out on the lake. The calm of the morning was the key thing luring folks here.

After circumnavigating the small lake and a few more pics, I decided it was time to find Island Surf and learn more about this notion of why folks were now taking up paddle boarding. After driving through town and stopping at a few stores, a young women said “oh yeah, that is the place next to the Texas Rib place outside of town Coombs, just take the highway like you are going to Tofino. Fortunately the coffee and paddling had woken me up enough not to foresee an absent minded detour to the west coast of Vancouver Island.

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I traveled by a  butterfly museum in Cooms and a tie dye t shirt spot, saw the goats on top of Coombs general store and sure enough, there was the billboard, I had found Island Surf.

Why have a surf shop miles away from any beach? The logic did stump me just a bit until I realized this was the only road leading to Tofino. The strategy was sublimely two sided. Not only could surfers find a new board that may have been munched by an eratatic waves in Tofino, now there was an option for tourist and newly retired folks in Parksville and Quilicum beach to invest in a paddle boarding. With my windows down, I could just sniff the Texas rib place firing up the morning fire. This was Vancouver Island, you accept the juxtaposition of odd ventures side by side. This was a road where goats ate off the roof of a building covered with grass.

It is a place where Artisans have their own wares advertised not only with billboards but also with government road signs. To expect the unexpected was normal. A surf shop was just another roadside attraction and I was off to meet the Kahuna. To me, it made total sense.

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As young family was looking at boogie boards, a newly wed was rationalizing purchasing a new board for him self. Some how he just knew and trusted that his new spouse would understand. A mother and her two kids looked at a redpaddle board like my own. I could not help my self. I smiled and started pitching the merits of the board. Lorne, the store manager, just grinned. Sure, folks just randomly come in the door and start yakking about how great paddling is. We swapped smirks and I backed off and started looking at all the Mexican furniture, which I just expected to find in a surf shop. The A frame building housed everything from surfboards, wet suits, surf gear and more to metal statues of dogs riding bicycles and Mexican ponchos. Still some what numb between the ears due to lack of sleep and early morning ramblings, I looked around and just soaked in all. It was was a treasure chest for ADHD mind.  I mentioned my email to Lorne and he said..”yeah..we got that..you want to talk to Colin” and that is when I met the Kahuna.

You know there are those who talk and those who..do. Colin Kearns didn’t have to say a word. His body and physical stance just gave the message. Yes..I may be in this store yet I live on waves. His smile was contagious and his enthusiasm as he showed me paddle and surf books soon had me wanting to join him in the waves. “Sure, you can surf, you just need to find the right board”, he said. There I was a newbie and fresh to paddling and now I was actually thinking of going out into the cold west coast surf if only to be there with the Kahuna. We swapped tales about places we had been and things we had done. Yes I had surfed but it was in a seventy four foot yacht south of Australia. As usual, tales always get fun when you are yarning about who did what first.  “ Hey I sold that dude his first paddle and board” Colin said when I mentioned folks I had met in my travels. This was the Kahuna and he had seen the wave of prospective paddle boarders coming. “It is the soccer moms and the new retirees who want to stay fit that started the trend here”, he shared with me. He had seen the wave of wind surfers, “oh those are the guys who want to know all the stats about the board, what is the volume and more..and heh I just tell them to just find a board that suits you”. I was already intimately aware of this form of surfer logic. I was once told how to surf the waves of Tofino in a kayak..”Just lean to Japan”. Simple facts and no heady stuff..just be in the moment and do not let your head get in the way. If was simple and to the point. It was dude wisdom.

Colin told me about his store, his endeavours to bring Mexican furniture back after a few winters avoiding the rain and how he had done a full circle on owning and then reowning a business that rose like a phoenix from the ashes. It, the store, was an extension of a person who was happy to play in waves, no matter if it was in South africa, Mexico or the cooler climes of the BC coast. For just a sec, I recalled the young geese following the older and wiser ones into the water as I attempted to take a snap at Spider lake. “Follow me grommet, you will find both joy and safety in the water and waves. Unlike the calm of Spider lake, the waves of the coast are a force that can seriously mess you up. Yet here I was, happy to just listen to a person wordly wise enough to truly understand what it takes to be full goose bozo. Here was a person who definitely had the right stuff to lure folks into the ocean. Ride the waves. Feel their force and find the board that suits you. It will come, just like putting a ankle cord in a boogie board. Colin’s pearls of wisdom came forth like perfectly smooth beach pebbles, “All you have to do is point into the wave, bail out and get your paddle hooked in”. He looked me in the eye and set the hook,  “ You have to come out next August and we will go out there together”. Just like the morning salmon that my parking lot angler had caught, I was hooked. We swapped wares, I convinced him of the merit of “sore no more” and he gave me a Island Surf team t shirt. We even posed for a picture by “ATABOY” as the smell of Texas Ribs filled the air. “Texas Ribs in Vancouver Island, I just do not get it” Colin muttered. I even convinced Lorne that Qualicum beach needed to form a paddle board water polo team and that they should sponsor a tournament. I have no doubt it will happen sooner than later.

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After putting a new sticker on the window and shaking Colin’s bear paw hand again, I got behind the wheel and headed south to my next mission, a desire to climb a mountain. It was a long ride. The whole way, a stoic grin remained on my face. I was stoked. I wanted to share my story with my friends. I wanted to share with the world what treats an early morning sunrise can bring forth. It seemed to me that my only sole desire was to celebrate the what a sunrise and a few extra hours of the tides of time can bring. I looked at my oversized  extra large t shirt and cracked up at how I had lost forty five pounds. Now, I was rationalizing paddle surfing in the waves. The hum of the wheels and summer wind teased my ears. Why get up early to dabble in the waves? Why seek out those odd moments in time? Why solitarily pursue something other than kudos in a job or finally purchase that one special item for the household? Is it nobler to seek out your own  life experiences verses dreaming about more possessions? Is there wisdom in riding the products of wind and tides? What if you accept the fact, that even though you know that you may fail or fall off,  there is the lure to just say bugger it all and go for it? These thoughts and more drifted in and out of my mind. Out of my rolling meditative state a past solitary song came to mind. Hands on the wheel, I arched into to a winding path down the highway and began to sing. Looking in the rear view mirror, I saw the ocean hidden between the mountains. I realized that to insure a good past, you had to recognize the gift of the tides of time. Yes dawn watchers, cherish the oddities and lures of time well spent in the present.

New version of “Everyone is talking at me”

“Everybody’s Talkin'”
(originally by Fred Neil)

Everybody’s talking at me
I don’t hear a word they’re saying
Only the echoes of my mind

People stopping, staring
I can’t see their faces
Only the shadows of their eyes

I’m going where the sun keeps shining
Through the pouring rain
Going where the weather suits my clothes

Banking off of the northeast winds
Sailing on a summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone

Wah, wah wah-wah wah
Wah-wah wah-wah, wah wah-wah
Wahhh

I’m going where the sun keeps shining
Through the pouring rain
Going where the weather suits my clothes

Banking off of the northeast winds
Sailing on a summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone

Everybody’s talking at me
Can’t hear a word they’re saying
Only the echoes of my mind

I won’t let you leave my love behind
No, I won’t let you leave
Wah, wah
I won’t let you leave my love behind

Link for Island Surf

Link for Spider Lake Provincial Park

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These are the simple things

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Let the Big Dog Eat

Some times, you can tell what a kid is going to be like when they grow up just by a few simple actions. Take for example a four-year-old future big dog, who was just content to float his way through a lazy Sunday at the beach. I had been invited to go for a paddle down at Crescent Beach just near White Rock. Unlike my usual haunts, there was a pleasant smell of things roasting on the barbeques and the yapping of several dogs in their own dog beach. I was riding through the waves of several powerboats and decided just to sit this one out and float closer to the shore. That is when I noticed “Tyler”. He was on his back enjoying the buoyant lift of life jacket that was happily floating him out into a rising tide. There were some distressed looks from the shore and so my inner herding dog kicked into action and I decided to round up this stray pup.

“Hey bud, your Mom on the shore really wants you to get back to her” I said. Well this is when I knew I was facing a free thinker. He replied, “She isn’t my Mom!” and continued to look skyward with a beatific grin. So I took a look into the beach. I noticed another woman who was now charging down the sand like a zealous Seal trainee in BUD training. Under one arm was less than stable inflatable raft that may have just been pulled out off it wrapper, perhaps this was the Tyler’s Mom. So I gave her a nod and an ok sign. “Well bud, see that large powerboat coming this way” , I pointed out a large fiberglass double Decker thing coming our way.  “You might float right into it’s path”, I councilled him. Yet this boy was not buying into any fear tactics today. He smiled and blurted out “no it won’t”. Now, since I was floating towards him and may be in some logical union of synapses of a four year old brain, he had just figured out the simple affect of an incoming tide. He was safe and besides, he had roped another into enjoying some simple playful antics. So I bought into his grin and we were just content to enjoy and smile skyward like happy plankton.

Down the beach, there was the racous barking of at least ten dogs who were all interacting well enough accept for a German Sheppard, who ..for a moment took his life a little too seriously. Perhaps it was the canine antics that inspired my youthful floater. Hell, here was Huck at the riverside and I was not going to spoil his huckleberry ways. “Well, Tyler, I am just going to float here with you and lets see if we can stay out of trouble” and with that reply, he looked at me with a kind of acceptance that just makes your heart go lub dub. He had befriended me in the most humble of ways.

So we just let the barks and screams and an urgent comment “Tyler, you are going to get in trouble”  merrily mix into the sunny day sounds of the beach. Finally Tyler, knew he was heading for trouble and probably felt that a fellow “big dog” could help him. Yup there is always some help if you show your strength in majorities or may be just another goofy face might keep you in out of harms way. I grabbed him by his arms, hauled him on board “Clarity” and propelled him to shore. To show his new found strength, he let go of my board and swam his “Mom” who was attempting to go in a straight line. On her face was both the look of concern and apology. Hopefully, a slight glimmering of grin, showed a sense of humour that honoured her young son’s innocence. As she smiled back and said “thank you”, I did hope that Tyler didn’t get into too much trouble.

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Inspired by my own inner child and “dog spirit”, I felt a boost of humour and hope as I walked up the beach to place my board down. It was then that I discovered that one of my flip-flops had fallen off while exploring a nearby sand bar. I took a look back and soon found my self-playing a fun game of fetch. Yup, I could find this object. Hell, if a border collie can retrieve more that two thousand different objects, I could should easily be able to find a solitary flip-flop. I made it to the far shore and put my board next to two kids playing in the sand. I humped it up the shoreline only to discover a coconut. Being a random object to find, I held onto it and went by a jet skiing couple frolicking in the tidal pools. The young lass was a nice distraction in her white bikini yet my nose was on the trail and it wasn’t long before I found the missing flip flop caught in a tidal pool and gently cruising inward to the shore.

I attached the vagrant flip flop to the bungee cord with a locking D carbineer and reminded my self of how to keep things close at hand. I gave the lost coconut to the kids making a castle and smirked about a Monty Python line. Across the channel I paddled and kept a look out to see if my buddy Tyler was up to his antics again. Having returned to the shore, Mother Nature was preparing to put on her evening show. I had never seen this before. As the sun slowly began it’s slow arc to places West, the sky became a natural fireworks show of shades of orange. A poetic pair of paddlers inspired me to launch into the waves and simply take it all in. While I was impressed with yoga moves and the pure reverie of my fellow sup paddlers, I went ashore and took in the display with other beach folks.

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On the beachfront, a photographer was busy taking snaps of a young women and her two kids. Her son, who may have been about Tyler’s age, carefully placed his croc’s in the sand, side by side, and rolled up his pants prior to stepping into the water. I just grinned and wondered what this young man would be. He joined in the snaps with the same reluctance that Tyler had to going to shore. This was a simple Sunday and between the smell of hamburgers and sun tan oil, the day came to a gentle close. Even the playing hounds next to me appeared to stop their play to ponder the setting sun. Then again, there was this bouncy standard white poodle with a crazy dog showstopper haircut. Blonds and beaches, could the same be true for other mutts? I am not sure. May be, with just the passage of time and tide, the present becomes a gift that you just cannot ignore. May be that is what Tyler was feeling as he floated in warm ocean, being both fearless and free to be. Thanks to Tyler for reminding a big dog of the simple things we need in life. Eat, sleep, poop and play!

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(for Vanilla girl)