Paddlin'

15 hours of work on Tuesday. That's right, 15. That's like two whole normal days squozed into one. Bleh. I came in for an hour or so in the back office, to make sure everything balanced. One crisis led into another, and I ended up staying until my regular shift began at 3. Bleh I say again.

I had to get the hell out of town after that, so I headed for the hills. Or the sea, actually. Or the Atlantic Intercoastal Waterway, to be exact. I have been craving some kayaking recently, so I decided to indulge. At $25 for 4 hours, it's not a bad deal.

It was amazing. Even though it was a sunny, clear day, there was no one else on the water on a Wednesday afternoon. I paddled my way around marshes, just feet away from herons and pelicans. I only beached myself twice, which is not too bad, considering I started at ultra-low tide. I ended up paddling all the way down the creek to the St. John's river, and over to Kingsley plantation, where I had visited on Saturday. I noticed then that it was situated to face the river, and it was pretty amazing to come coasting around a corner and see it looking at you.

Winds on the St. John were a little stronger than in the marshes, and I found myself short of time and energy. Why is it that anytime I do a physical activity I overestimate my endurance and end up going way too far? If I ever rockclimbed (heaven forbid!), I would be the type of person to call 911 at the top of El Capitan 'cause I was too damn tired to get back down.

Tired as I was, I ended up just charging up the river. I was sure I was going to get stuck out in the swamp as the sun went down, lost and wandering. I guess my endurance was better than I expected, since I ended up back at the dock 45 minutes early. Rather than take it in, I just floated with the tide for a while. Lovely. And surprisingly, my arms aren't even sore today. Last night they were killing me every time I moved. I almost cried, because I have only a few more lines left on my low-tech, and I was gonna bust them out in the light of a motel or hostel. Oh well, one more cafe session won't kill me.

Since I was already south, I decided to put in another night at the Pirate Haus. It was not quite enjoyable as the first time. They were packed, so I was stuck with an upper bunk. Something I came to appreciate, as I was woken in the morning by another top-bunk denizen vomiting over the edge of the bed. Ah, the hostel life. How I shall miss thee.

This morning found me passing by the first ever Ripley's Believe it or Not. I couldn't pass it up. I marveled at all the things made from human skulls, weaved my way down the swirly tubes, and stood a little too long in front of the skinny mirror. Much fun.

I came out of Jacksonville on a bridge I hadn't seen before. Its lines were glowing in the light, and two men on Harleys in front of me were snapping pictures like mad.

I had one more juicy tidbit that you would have loved, but I forgot to write it down, and it is lost forever. How many of my memories are like that, I wonder? There is probably 97% of my life that I have forgotten to solidify into memories. They say that it's all still in there, though. 80 years from now, I may smell a whiff of apples and swamp and car funk, and remember a detail from today. Then I'll whap myself on the head and say, damn, I never did return that library book.

Comments

[holly]

They do say it's all still there. That thought scares the crap outta me. There's plenty of stuff I'm pretty sure that I'm glad I don't remember. (How's that last one for crappy sentence structure? yuck!) Last night, for example...glad i don't remember that...hahaha

[conrad]

The gal who puked, actually there were two of them, only one didn't quite make it to the bathroom, had eaten at OC White's restaurant here. They filed foodborne illness complaints online, but the guy from the health dept called me back to say that he inspected the place and found nothing wrong. Both girls ate the chicken, so I guess the moral is, when at a seafood restaurant, don't get the chicken. If you want chicken, go to KFC...