At this time of year the important decisions are only too apparent.
Q: How much relish do you want on that Hot Dog and are you sure you also need copious amounts of buttah (spelled of course to show the due respect to cows around the world that produce the real stuff) on that bucket of popcorn.
A: Lots, and hell yeah! what else is popcorn but a medium for trans-fats.
Yes it's true the summer blockbuster season is upon us with a vengeance and while Ironman was a spectacular way to kick it off, the orgasmic glory of the first Hot Dog of the summer surpassed all the flashy special effects and this was devoured well before the trailers had finished.
You may well ask how I got to this state of cinematiccolesterol fueled bliss? Well let me accompany you on that small caffeine odyssey along I-85.
During the drive to Greensboro to pick up some bright and shiny new boats we decided it was to be a day of American experiences. Let's kick the day off properly with a high dose of caffeine. Mine was prepared diligently using a French Press, while Sarah used the convenience of the local Starbucks to ease her socially accepted addiction. However, like the crack head has a sixth sense, even if the first 5 are not fully intact, to know exactly which alley to creep down to get a hit, so the hardened coffee abuser knows which exit is going to produce the best pulse racing shot. In our case this happened to be barely 10 minutes into our drive and just down the way from Lowes Motor Speedway. While I am no NASCAR fan you can hardly be immune to the shear enormity of the stadium and in a sense of awe of the marketing genius that these execs have achieved. Now desperately craving a Coke and with a strange desire to live in a climate controlled motor home we were back in the Saturn heading north to four hunks of plastic.
Given that one US Cup is the equivalent of 8 fluid ounces I am now running on 6 cups and it's only 1:30pm. Oh yeah and don't forget the Wendy's Double Classic with Cheese. One hour later and several changes of music genres, politics, music, people and general gossip covered we have finally arrived at the Liquid Logic/Legacy paddle sports factory and distribution center.
The little Saturn was not too sure what it thought about having 200lbs of boats on the racks and with stimulate assisted visions of the roof racks ripping off we went a little slower.
On the drive back Sarah found out that I had never been to Chick-Fil-A and insisted that we stop and try the best chicken sandwiches, waffle fries and lemonade this side of the mason-dixie line. I'm still not sure where that really is but I nodded my head and let her order a Meal Combo 1 for both of us. I am not sure when I have ever had a chicken sandwich before but I am certain I have never had anyone be quite so excited about serving me one.
Whatever my opinion of Chick-Fil-A it was very conveniently right next to another Starbucks.
9 cups and counting. Some more highway, a glass of wine and three tickets to Ironman it's alll goood.
It's at this point we join our protagonist biting into a glistening movie stand hot dog overflowing with ketchup and relish.
So what does this have to do with kayaking?
Absolutely nothing, and hence quite a lot. There comes a point when kayaking is so all encompassing that you have to escape. Ever since moving to the Ottawa 7 years ago it has been Tuesday night movies and the after-movie curbside donut and coffee from Tim Hortons as my escape from the river, the tent and talk of the river. Whether in Chile, New Zealand, California or Massachusetts, movies have provided me with an escape. Anyway, I digress.
Arriving fresh from an entire day avoiding kayaking, Sarah and I loaded up the trusty Saturn once more, although this time with slightly less on the racks but an equal if not larger quantity of caffeine coursing through my veins, it was off to IHOP on Cox Ave.
Now the glorious thing about IHOP along with Friendly's in the Northeast is that not only do they give you a bottomless cup of coffee, they leave the carafe on the table so you can mainline it at your leisure. Now uncomfortably full, you know the feeling where you almost need to waddle, we manage to head to the Green.
Passing many roadside attractions and used car lots we stopped in to Liquid Logic's top-secret R+D facility, mainly so that Sarah could gossip with Obie and meet new puppies. With Sarah now stoked up on some Red Bull we headed to the parking lot. 30 seconds of outfitting my boat later and the last few ounces of coffee we trudged down the trail. The most striking aspect of this day was paddling the Green while there were leaves on the trees. Having only paddled in the south during the early spring or late fall it's been fairly bare and it was a beautiful treat to see the river with foliage.
I'm not going to bore you with tales of the river since it's been written about more times than you could shake a cat at. Since you can shake many cats many times that makes lots of times.
Some people may well be thinking about the next run, the next whitewater adventure, my mind is wandering off to where my next black gold fix is coming from. Then I might be able to contemplate another foray to the river, but the day a thermos camel back for paddling hits the market I am all over that.
So what are the condiment that we use to season our lives? While the river may supply the roast beef or the fresh cut thick chips (that's the french fried variety) it all those little extras that make things really zing. Movies are the mayonnaise, good coffee the fresh ground pepper, poking fun at all your friends constantly and mercilessly the Marmite. Well that last one is more like the snacks you keep to munch on constantly. Much like Yucatan Sunrise hot sauce makes the chili taste just that little better, so does every random roadside purple gorilla in yellow boxer shorts make putting on the river that little more exciting.
