Don't I look swell? No makup, just woke up, wearing more layers than a homeless person, feeling bloated and crampy. So we drive ourselves to Bayfield to meet our guide and whoever else has booked a sea caves trip at 8:45. It was so gorgeous out there. It was like 43 degrees- not bad, no wind, promising to be a beautiful day on the lake.
the view from the Trek & Trail place
We discover that thankfully, we aren't the only three on the trip. Tammy isn't a fan of the open water, so she opted out of the trip. That was a smart move and I think she was relieved that she didn't miss a fantastic life changing trip because it wasn't that. She probably would have cried the entire time because I know I was close to doing it. Our tripmates were as follows: Chad (Tammy's hubby), Clint (a junior guide- looked like he was stoned and recovering from a hangover), Jim and daughter Laura (a father/daughter duo from Alabama on a vacation known as "Alabama" from here), Pavlo and Beth (a barely English speaking guy from Chile and a former dork turned college cool girl wannabe from Sheboygan, known as "Chile" from here). Oh, and Elisa, our guide who is clearly at home in the water although not a Wisconsin native. She seems cool and likeable, not scary and doesn't seem to be all Nazi about the kayaking experience. All good.
So we are told because of weather conditions and it being so early in the year, we have to wear wetsuits. Holy mother of Jesus. For those who don't know me, you should know that I do NOT have a flattering body type. My body is not meant to be put into any kind of restrictive clothing such as corets, panty hose, leggins, any nylon and/or lycra material, Spanx, and certainly not a wetsuit. Humiliation ensues. A large does not fit. I have to ask for something bigger to which Elisa says, "Are you sure?" I follow with "If the object is for it to cover my body and not just my calves, then yes, I need something bigger." Guess what fits? XXL. No joke. I'm debating coming out in my wetsuit that was obviously made from a skinned whale. We then pack up our junk into the van and drive about 20 minutes to the beach where we are to get our paddle class and basic instruction. I'm scared.
OH!!! I totally forgot about our awesome backpack. So I was concerned about dehydration despite the fact we'd be kayaking on a freshwater lake, so I bought a backpack that holds 2 liters of water. Oh yes, we were the cool kids. Not only did our backpack hold water, but it had a STRAW HOSE to use. Fucking genius. Matt got to wear it- he looked kind of dorky, but nobody was making fun of us for being prepared. I also brought wipes in case I had to go to the bathroom in the woods. I don't do the whole nature thing so well, so you know- leaves aren't an option.
So we get to the beach and get in a circle to do the paddle lessons. It's pretty straight forward and we're told that we will get a rudder because it's easier for beginners than trying to learn all the strokes on how to turn your kayak. I'm all about easy. So we decide who's in front (Matt) and who's in back (me). I get to steer since I'm in back with these foot peddles (again, easy) but Matt sets the rowing pace since he's in front. I thought this was smart since he has more upper body strength than I do. My arms are pure decoration- they have no muscle mass. This turned out to be a VERY dumb decision on my part.
Me, looking like a grinning idiot in my kayak. And guess what? Kayaks aren't condusive to people with bubble butts. I got stuck.
We were the second kayak to get pushed into the water. I'm watching how other people did it, and it seems easy. Nobody else struggled. Within minutes, Matt almost capsizes us four times and can't row. Seriously. He's a fucking idiot. I figure out very quickly several things:
1. Steering is hard. It requires a lot of leg strength (which I have).
2. You can't steer when you have 2-4 foot swells coming at you (more on that later)
3. You have to be coordinated in your paddling with the person in the front
4. Your hands go numb almost instantly so the fucking freezing water is no biggie
5. I am glad I wore a wetsuit because I'm almost positive I would have gone hypothermic within seconds.
6. We suck as a team.
7. Our communication sucks.
8. We don't necessarily like each other.
At this point, we are very far away from the rest of the group, going further out into the open lake and Matt is paddling like a fucking retard. No rhythm, no real technique here. At this point, I loose it. I'm screaming at him the following things:
1. What the fuck are you doing?
2. How fucking hard is it to paddle like a normal person?
3. I swear to god if you can't get your shit together I'm leaving your ass on the beach at break
4. Seriously, what the fuck?
5. Matt, shut the fuck up and just row the god damn kayak forward.
6. Are you waiting for a sudden burst of wind to push us?
7. Are you trying to get hid with a paddle? Because you are dangerously close to being knocked unconsious.
8. Is there a reason you are sending us to the middle of the lake? Because I'm pretty sure we need to stay with the group seeing how I forgot to bring flares.
I think these were the only things I can repeat without God striking me down. The entire time, everyone else is laughing. Seriously. I felt like jumping out of the fucking kayak and swimming back because my likelihood of surviving looked better. Rather quickly the water went from calm and nice to choppy. Like white caps. If this were warmer water, people could have done some light surfing- it was that bad. I was soaked, and Matt couldn't understand that when a huge wave comes- STOP PADDLING. (Unless you want to get drenched and almost capsize). Thank god that I'm heavier than him because when he'd flail I'd have to try to compensate my weight so we wouldn't flip over. I told him if we capsize a divorce is basically a done deal. I wasn't even kidding.
So we FINALLY get to the sea caves. I have some great pictures from that- they were breathtaking, just beautiful. Pictures really do not do it justice. You'll notice I have no inside pictures- Matt couldn't get his shit together for us to paddle forward into them. I was so mad.
I have more, but for the sake of time I won't post them all. The caves are spectacular. I really do recommend doing this trip if you are in the Northern Wisconsin area because it's amazing. I just don't recommend going with your spouse.
So anywho- we had to turn around early because the waves were getting really bad, consistently three feet high. Luckily, the paddle back to the beach went quicker because we had the wind at our back. I'm really abbreviating at this point because there was more screaming going back and forth. I tried having Matt say "left" when he was going to paddle on that side and "right" when he went to the other side- he is incapable of this. He had like road rage in a kayak. Lisa- you are my witness to it in a vehicle, I am not making this rage up. Seriously. We get the beach to have lunch which was mediocre considering it sat in a kayak the entire time. I just wanted to get out of the fucking kayak. I debated walking the beach instead of getting back in, I'm told this isn't an option. I try finding a new kayak partner- nobody wants to be with Matt as they all witnessed his absolute retardness and inability to follow instructions. It's a miracle we hadn't flipped over. The beach lunch was more relaxed, Chad and I chatted a bit. We had to get back into the kayaks after about 30 minutes. I almost cried. At this point my legs hurt so bad, arms not so much. I literally felt like I not only ran 100 miles but did squats for 3 hours. I thought my thighs were going to explode. I make an executive decision to not ever be in the back of a kayak again. I tell Matt since he sucks, I'm going to paddle us back to the beach and I just need him to steer.
Pretending to be a happy couple on a wedded bliss vacation
