prudenceb

So what exactly did you get?

If weather is nice next Wednesday (a week from yesterday), I'd be up for starting Walden early! Those interested should post interest, and we can decide by Tues if conditions will be favorable. Also, strongly recommend getting season pass. It's good not only for Walden but also DCR properties, including a discount at Crane's Beach! pru

Sorry for delayed review. I've been away for a few days. Soup is excellent! Thanks, Jonathan!

Yup.

May 23, yes! pru

I am delighted to report that Cathy Folster is now an ACA L2 Essentials of Kayak Touring Instructor! You go, girl! pru

Glad you guys had a good day. I thought of you all as I was down on the Cape without a boat, gazing longingly at almost flat calm water even on the ocean side. Great day to be out and about! And Rob, interesting to read about your tie-down adventure. As I recall, I might have been the first person to suggest you get at least a bow tie-down for carrying boats on your Prius! pru

Yikes! Be careful who you paddle with!

Welcome, Matt! You have come to the right place! Keep an eye out for posted L2 paddles - which likely won't be starting until the water gets warmer; but even better, once we get closer to June, you will see weeknight skills sessions posted for Walden Pond and Chebaco Lake. At these sessions, more experienced paddlers are happy to work with less experienced ones on things ranging from boat control to rescues to rolls. Again, keep an eye out for these. I have no idea how an " old double folbot" will work - especially for one person - but you would likely be able to try out stuff not only in that boat, but in other members' boats at the skills session. Look forward to seeing you on the water. pru Ps No need to bribe, But I can assure you that no NSPNer has ever turned down good food!

Jonathan, I would love to sample your soup ... I don't have a dehydrator and frankly would like to just buy something readymade. Very slothful of me. Pls email me at prubax@aol.com and I will send you my mailing address. Thanks for the offer! pru

Seems that folks were talking about soup at some point in the not too distant past, but I couldn't find it, so here goes (again?)... Any advice on specific brands of dried soups, where you can get them, and what you can add to them that is ready-made and has some actual food value (protein or fiber....anything but more salt!). I'm starting to put together lunch meals for upcoming trip and it seems most of the stuff I've seen on store shelves that is dried is just broth, salt and little bits of this and that to float in the soup. I am looking for stuff that doesn't take up much room. Thanks for any advice! pru

Wish I could join you but have other commitment that day. Bummer!

Actually, Andy, I think before your accident you were all prepared to become a polygamist...

Lanes Cove to Rockport, April 18, 2015 So I posted for this early season mellow rust-busting trip, and a number of people expressed a desire to join but couldn't (work, out-of-town, out of commission - Andy!, other commitments...), and so it was just four of us - Peter, Rob, Mike and I - that met at Lanes Cove on a calm sunny morning with temperatures forecast for the 60s. What ensued was an enjoyable day on the water - nothing more, nothing less - where conditions switched out enough over the course of the paddle that by the end we felt we'd had an interesting time. When it's only four people, and four prompt people at that, we launched a half hour before we'd planned as the tide was still coming in. The plan was to hug the shoreline no point-to-point crossings across coves when the rocks along the way are what are nicest about this paddle. But it was so calm in the morning that going into the rocks and out didn't present much of a challenge. Cormorants stood sentinel. Its always nice to have Peter on a trip because he can identify so many different birds. He called out names as floating birds burst into the air, or dove into the water, or otherwise avoided us. We headed into Folly Cove where the rock faces on the southern side are very impressive. There were several groups of divers, two in the water and one on land. Even keeping distance from their flags, we could see their bubbles rising to the surface, and look down through the clear and still water and see the tanks they were wearing. It stayed calm as we approached Halibut Point. Look up and see the tiny people on top! It was easy to stay right up against the rocks. We paddled and chatted our way around Halibut Point and the approach to Rockport Harbor. Bearskin Neck has been under reconstruction since last year, and they were at work on Saturday. Yikes! Howdya like this baby to pluck you right up out of the water? Rockport Harbor was April empty. There wasn't much room to land as it was high tide, but we were happy to have the requisite dogs providing a greeting and then helping with the landing. We pulled the boats up and proceeded to spend an hour basking in the sun, eating lunch and talking about various mysteries of life, none of which we were able to solve. But it ultimately got a little chilly even with the sun, and so we prepared to go. Have I mentioned that this was Mr. Sand Covered Albino Formerly Green Peeps second voyage? Well, it was to be his last because I'm melting..!... So involved had we been trying to make sense of the mysteries of life that we didn't notice that conditions had changed over the course of our lunch hour. The seas had really picked up. Beamish seas and then confused ones with refraction off the rocks as we rounded Andrews Point. But then we had the wind more at our backs, and following seas swept us past Halibut Point and then it got calm again. Clouds had come out, and the water turned momentarily steely. And then home. Nothing not to like about the day, and if we had only been more successful at solving life's mysteries, it would have been a perfect one - well, but for the untimely death of the Peeps formerly known as Mr. Green Peeps. As it was, I think I speak for the four of us in saying that we were all glad that we'd put aside whatever other obligations we might have had to spend this lovely day on the water. Thanks to all. pru

Andy, we can't wait for you to be back on the water!! We'll carry you along in spirit!

Lane's Cove to Rockport paddle is definitely ON for Saturday. Beach briefing st 9:45, launch at 10:00 am. Pls PM me float plan info. pru

I,ll wait to see if other people weigh in. I am happy to continue with Lanes Cove. Let's see what interest there is. It is a long way to RI and I love the Rockport shoreline... So Mike, don't bail yet...

I see that Josko has just posted for a Sakonnet trip. If folks who might have been considering Lane,s Cove would prefer to head south and see a new area, that would be fine with me...and I would join the crew in RI. So please weigh in with your preference. Either way, it promises to be a nice day and better to have too many trip choices than too few! pru

I'm posting about our competing Saturday trips. If it looks as though people would like to do Sakonnet rather than familiar old North Shore, I would be happy to head south to join you guys. We,ll see what people think over next day or so. pru

Join me for an early season paddle from Lane's Cove to Rockport (or beyond?) and back. Marine forecast as of now is calling for warmish temps, maybe some sprinkles, and calmish sea state. A nice way to get those winter kinks out! The rocks might beckon some... Even if it's warm, the water is still very cold, so drysuits required of all participants. Please post interest here or PM me - and if you're sure you're coming, send info for float plan as well. pru

Spring Into Winter an Overnight to Aptly Named Little Snow Island April 8-9, 2015 Warren, Beth and I - this year's Alaska Adventure threesome - took a midweek trip to Maine to shake off more of the long winter's rust and test out gear and packing in anticipation of two possibly cool and soggy weeks in Western Prince William Sound in June. Over the preceding days, we looked repeatedly at the grim forecast. Cool, check. Soggy, you betcha. Had I not been preparing for the Alaska trip, I would for sure have bailed on this one given the days of rain, cold and small craft warnings that had preceded it. Oh, this seemingly endless 2015 horrid cold weather pattern! Please let it be sunny. Please let it be warm. Please, please, please let it finally be spring! On the other hand, when all was said and done - meaning when we were off the water the next day, packed up, and racing toward a nearby MacDonalds for a breakfast sandwich and warm drink - we had to offer up a thank you to the Weather Gods for throwing a white fastball at us and providing what turned out to be a most memorable overnight on Little Snow Island. We had a deceptively lovely start to our day. It was blue sky sunny with temperatures in the 30s and little wind when we met at Bethel Point landing, another by-now-familiar spot that we enjoy returning to as it offers access to a number of really nice paddling venues. Terry down the road offers secure parking for $6 a night, although we found that we were so early in the season, the normally spacious lot was filled with large boats still tucked away for the winter (smart!), and there was hardly any room for us. But we managed to squeeze in, and launched pretty much on time, planning to noodle around a bit before setting up camp at Little Snow. The MITA guide instructs campers to stay away from this very popular island in Quahog Bay until July due to a resident nesting osprey. However, given this winter - this horrid awful winter - we surmised that osprey parents were likely smarter than us, and would still be tucked up somewhere warm and toasty before deciding to bring young ones into the world. So Warren called MITA and found that, indeed, no osprey was yet in residence, and that we were free to go ahead and camp there. This trip was, from the get-go, more about the camping than the paddling because of the need to prepare for the Alaska trip. While we had contemplated heading over to explore Maine Coast Heritage Trust's Malaga Island Preserve in the mouth of the New Meadows River, we decided that a shorter paddle made sense on this trip. Malaga Island has an interesting and sad history, and will for sure be a destination in the future. So we headed in a southwesterly direction to visit a private MITA island where we have stopped for stretch breaks on other trips. Taking advantage of the rising tide, we took a new route threading between rocky areas to the west of Yarmouth Island and instead of landing on the MITA island, did a clockwise loop around it (first time we'd been to the backside of the island). We decided there was no need to get out of our boats just yet, so we continued on, north now to explore Card Cove. But first, a stop on a tide-exposed band of crushed shells for me to change into warmer paddling gloves. Then on to the cove, which Warren thought he'd been in before, but whose whole narrow he hadn't yet traversed. It was notable at first for its beautiful green water. At one point, we thought we saw the end up ahead, but on looking at the chart saw that a slight jog to the right would keep us going. It was worth it! Here, we found a flat calm sunny area at the northern end of the cove, ringed by weird ice sculptures left over from the winter. One was a polar bear - no doubt about it! We paddled on out, again on the inviting green water. Beth proclaimed that she was tempted to swim, but not really - water temp in the mid 30s puts it realistically 20 degrees below her willingness-to-swim conditions. So up and out of Card Cove, where we ran into another person on the water, in a racing canoe. He was in training for some big event The nationals, he said - but the winter had not made that easy. Tell us about it! We wished him luck, then paddled north on the west side of Pole Island, where we'd never been before. Unlike the empty eastern side, this passage was filled with fishing vessels. And then, in the distance, Little Snow. We could pick it out because unlike other islands in Quahog Bay, it is largely covered with deciduous trees, and so presents as a blur of soft brown rather than evergreen...green. And then, a white headed blur flying by us - an eagle, trailing behind him a long strand of what must have been nest-making material. The trip was now for Warren a success. By the time we reached Little Snow, the sun had disappeared behind a thick layer of flat gray clouds. We landed, not the least bit surprised to see that we had no competition for the camping spots and that there was no osprey in residence. We had originally thought to land, unpack and eat lunch before exploring all the little neighboring islands - by water only - but it was approaching two in the afternoon, and there was a lot of work to be done. Our paddling for the day was now over. It was chilly sitting and having lunch, and we all layered up. Hot lemonade and soup went down well, and provided a bit of an internal furnace for the work ahead. Beth was using one of Warren's tents, so he helped her set that up. I considered options for siting my one person tent, and wondering how I would set up my new tarp. Once the tents were up, we all worked on tarp placement with the weather forecast in mind. The weather forecast... What was the forecast, you ask? For Little Snow and environs, what else but snow. Our blue sky launch had lulled me into thinking we'd dodged a weather bullet, but the advancing afternoon's uninviting dull clouds and increasing wind from the northeast told me otherwise. Beth had brought a winter camping shelter - available for sitting out of the wind and cooking if necessary - that looked to me as though it belonged in a medieval festival. My campsite. It took us a while, but eventually we had our little city all set up. Poles and trees held up tarps. Beth was to go without, but in Warren's borrowed four-season tent, she'd be OK. 4:30 pm. Beth disappeared for a nap. Warren laid out supper-cooking gear. Having obtained a permit to do so, we lit a fire in the fire ring next to some driftwood benches. Someone who had been there before us had left a nice stack of firewood, which was miraculously dry. While Warren tended to the flames, I wandered off to look at the rest of the island and take some pictures. White rock in black rock. Winter's remains. More remains, sculpted on the beach. Boats tucked up for night. Fire and campsite. I felt a chill even wearing four layers plus storm cag, and looking back across the little landing bay to our campsite everything appeared cozy and inviting. Beth woke up. Dinner ensued. A spaghetti toast to friends and adventures: Because the fire was enclosed by a low rock wall, and because we had seated ourselves so that smoke wouldn't blow on us, the fire actually wasn't that warm - certainly not the success that last fall's Muscongus fire was. It sure looked nice, though. I can't imagine that Warren and Beth got any warmer doing dishes in the ocean, but neither complained. It was time for for dessert now. Beth got to work preparing implements of dessert preparation - a somewhate lethal looking production. She had bought fixings for s'mores, and we discovered why she'd been unable to fit some of her gear inside her boat (she had launched with a large dry bag bungeed to her back deck): she pulled out so many different kinds of chocolate to go with the graham crackers and marshmallows she could have opened a gourmet chocolate shop on the spot! Warren was first up - yum, how to fit this treat into his mouth?! More marshmallows. And it was almost 8:00, and dark enough for headlamps, which meant bedtime. But first, a plan for the morning. If the weather didn't favor otherwise, we would be up at seven and launched by 8:30 to finish the trip. Now it was time to see whether the forecast would hold (snow starting at midnight) or not. Time to see whether we had done a good job siting our tents and setting up tarps. My second night ever in my little tent, a Hilleberg Soulo. Enough room for everything I needed inside, and a vestibule big enough for what I didn't. Beth's Knights of the Round Table shelter covered what remained, including dry suits, pfds and spray skirts. And so to bed and to wait for what was to come. At midnight, I awoke to the sound of the tarp flapping above me in the wind. And then heard some kind of precipitation. Lying on my back in the dark, warm and cozy (two layers of long underwear, 15 degree sleeping bag and a down sleeping pad), I listened. Flap of the tarp, sharp sound of snow? sleet? rain? I could have opened the fly to check, but that would have involved extracting my arms from my sleeping bag, and that was not an attractive idea at all. I didn't sleep well that night. The wind, the tarp, whatever was coming out of the sky. The latter changed over the night. Sharper sounds, then duller wet ones, then it was soft and quiet. And over it all, the intermittent honkings of Canada geese. I had never heard them at night before. Shouldn't they have been huddled up somewhere themselves, cozy and warm, asleep for the night? I imagined they were crying out, complaining as I was silently inside my tent, Enough! Enough of this winter! No more! Through the night, the geese complained. The tarp flapped. The wind blew. And something came out of the sky that was not warm. Early in the morning, I finally gave in to my curiosity, and looked outside. The view from my tent: Oh my! And then trying to sleep again, without great success (tarp, wind, snow, geese...). The view just before I got up at 7:00 in the morning. Warren's boat as seen from my bed. Then we were all up as planned at 7:00 and out into our winter wonderland. It was cold and a bit wet; the snow was a bit sleety then but it was also somehow exhilarating. Our little encampment had been transformed overnight. Little Snow indeed! My bear, in his element at last! We didn't bother with a fire or stoves or really anything other than breaking camp. With the launch site less than two miles away, we could power on on empty stomachs and there was that MacDonalds beckoning not far away! It stopped snowing. It started again. We gathered our stuff. Launched. Warren suggested that we could get the remaining snow off our boats by doing a nice roll. Yeah, right! We proceeded. We saw Warren's eagle perched far off on the top of tree. The wind was at our backs and we were warm now that we were moving. It was a nice trip back, chatting and enjoying the changing weather. By the time we got back to the launch site, the snow had stopped. A bit of sun peeked out, then disappeared. The water was calm. It would have been nice to keep going. But that MacDonalds... We landed and unpacked. In the time it took us to do that, retrieve our cars (where Terry came out and voiced astonishment that we'd camped in this weather), and load them up, it must have stopped and started snowing three more times. It certainly looked lovely. We all agreed that this had been a very special trip. None of us had paddled or camped on an island in the snow before. It had been a bit of a challenge to stay warm. Hanging around outside when temperatures are in the 20s and 30s is chilly business. But it was so magical - albeit a bit daunting - to get up to an island transformed from what it had been the night before. We knew this was a trip that would stay with us, and which we would likely increasingly enjoy the more distance we had from it! So, I was very happy to share the experience with Warren and Beth, but as the geese said, repeatedly and loudly through the long snowy night ENOUGH ALREADY!!! THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS! IT'S TIME FOR SPRING! pru

Third Annual NSPN Easter Bunny Plunge - April 5, 2015 Following on the heels of the Winter of Our Utter Weather Misery 2015, spring 2015 has not done much thus far to cheer any of us up. Cold, rain and mounds and patches of snow still on the ground. Any hope that Easter Sunday 2015 might give us a break from all of it was not realized. Third (after Rob and Cathy) to arrive at the launch at Riverhead Beach in Marblehead, I was greeted by an Easter bunny who despite the brave words on her backside voiced grave concerns about going out on the water. The sun was shining to start, but would not do so all day. It was cold (30s) and the wind was blowing stiff and steady from the west at 10-15 knots, with gusts of much more forecast. Add to that water temperatures still in the mid 30s, and you have a day that does not exactly beckon one to get out in it. But, hey, we were here! We had boats and layers of long underwear and fleece; we had drysuitsand we had rabbit ears! There was absolutely no excuse for bailing! And so Cathy rather reluctantly agreed that it made sense to see whether getting dressed for paddling would warm her up and make the prospect of a days paddle any more appealing. And so she layered up. It shouldnt have come as a surprise, but in a way it did, that when we had full paddling gear on, it was a lot more comfortable. Game on! Over the next half hour or so, the rest of our merry band of bunnies arrived and prepared to paddle. Mike. Bob. (Any why do I think this might have been the first time he had ever worn rabbit ears?) Beth. Rob and Cathy paused to warm up a bit. While everyone got ready, I performed a test launch Huh? Why it's Mr. Green Peeps of course, surfin' the shallow water. We milled around our boats, had a beach briefing, and secured Mr. Green Peeps. (Hey, who needs a devil ducky...Lorrie!...when you have Mr. GP!) For most of us, it was our maiden ocean voyage of 2015. Mike was testing out his newly purchased pre-dented Delphin. Beth was recovering from a hamstring injury. Others of us were just getting reacquainted with the pleasant torture of pulling a dry suit over our heads. As for Bob, well, this is his back yard and he knows every rock and wave. We launched. The plan was to hug the northern shore of Marblehead harbor, where we hoped to find some shelter from the wind. This was largely successful. In addition to providing wind relief, I always enjoy watching cliffs and high priced real estate go by. Mr. Green Peeps enjoyed it as well. The harbor was almost entirely empty. Blue buoys bobbed on the water with nothing to tether. Big boats were still in their winter shrink wrap. Birds and bare trees. A calm little rock garden to thread through. No trip is complete without an excitable dog, who yipped at my approaching boat, thrashed into the water and ran off. There were people up on the rocks looking down at us. Not much wildlife other than...more birds. We reached the end of the harbor, hung two lefts, and were soon in Dolliber Cove. We had thought that the cove would provide shelter from the wind for plunge activities, but it turned out to be quite windy in there. Some of us stopped for a stretch break on Brown Island's deserted beach. I am so used to seeing the cove filled with party boats, and the beach with picnicking families. It was so much better this way, the calm shades of brown and grey and blue green water. Few signs of life here other than more birds, flying away We paddled by the high priced real estate where Cathy particularly enjoyed this tree. We wondered how many more seasons it would last. Then some more gentle rockplay. And lunch. And warming up. And a nap (for one). By now, the blue sky had turned gray, and the day was all somber shades and bare trees. Our boats provided color. But poor Mr. Green Peeps. He had turned into Pale Patchy Mr. Green Peeps and so he would remain for the rest of the day. Rob and Bob disappeared over the hill, we assumed to scope out conditions for our return journey. They reappeared, conversing conspiratorially about...? We milled about, an orange band of Easter paddlers. We launched again, headed north and enjoyed rocks some more. Beth powered her Nordkapp into the wind and waves for a return surf back, but she was such a blur of speed I didn't manage to capture it on film. Then it became clear what Bob and Rob had been up to Our Easter Bunny Plunge was about to morph into a nice five star exercise on the very windy and exposed shoreline, where just maintaining position close to shore was difficult with the west wind doing its best to blow us away. So...who wants to get wet?! There three hardy volunteers. Bob, Rob and Beth (you go, girl!) hatched a plan to do a rock landing, which would require wet exiting, swimming, rock scrambling, boat hauling and, as it turned out, tangling up in all the various deployed tow ropes and a paddle leash. Bob was first in and first figuring out how to get up onto those rocks. Beth next, with some rescue practice first. Then up on the rocks. Various maneuvers ensued ending up with Bob and Beth and their boats up on the rocks, Rob preparing to join them. And then. And then. My camera battery died!! Drat! Words will have to describe what photos no longer can. Rob tipped out of his boat, and his on-rock assistants nimbly pulled his boat up and parked it near theirs. Rob scrambled up as well. They all stood there contemplating their next move. Cathy, Mike and I stayed warm even though we were going nowhere; fighting the wind so as not to end up blown out to Childrens Island proved sufficient exercise. So how did they get off the rocks? Well of course it just had to be that as Rob and Beth and Bob were pondering what to do next, a huge rogue wave formed in the distance it must have been at least twenty feet high - and with no time for thought or discussion on their parts, relying only on pure instinct and skill, they all hopped into their parked boats and sat a moment, waiting for the crest of the huge wave to kiss/crash the rocks. And then each of them with perfect timing paddled wildly to catch the wave as it was still rising, carrying them up up up, before all three were able to surf down the mighty waves refracting face, chased by a wild pile of foam as the timid three of us below, dancing in the wind whipped water, watched in awe at their skill. That's my story and I'm sticking to it! You had to be there to believe it...or not. Rob's thermometer had the water at 37 degrees, but the swimmers all said they weren't cold. Nothing like adrenaline and exercise to warm up water barely above freezing. It is always amazing how Marblehead Harbor lengthens in the course of the day. It is always about twice the distance on the way back, particularly with a west wind in one's face. But the hugging the rocks technique worked again, and apart from a few fierce gusts that had me howling, cursing and powering on, it was mostly fine. The mark of how ready we were to be done was hearing Cathy calling out, Are were there yet? then, fifteen seconds later, Are we there yet? and another fifteen seconds before, Are we there yet? Yes, we were there! We landed after 3 pm - pretty amazing considering that at our beach briefing, in deference to some peoples' reluctance to be on the water in the first place in all that cold and wind, Rob had announced that we would likely be finishing a lot earlier than we'd originally planned. As it turned out, the day was such a success that we ended up getting out later than that! I hope that no loved ones waiting at home with Easter supper cooling on the table were too annoyed! On shore, my iPhone captured an Easter Bunny who we only found out after had made the whole trip with us. And poor Mr. Green Peeps, who by the end of the trip had devolved into Mr. Semi-Melted Sandy Albino Peeps. We gathered for a selfie...what, after all, is an iPhone for? - gathered our gear, changed our clothes, ate Mr. Green Peeps' remaining friends, as well as some Cadbury eggs, and drove on home. But to finish, I would like to document a few other things here. Rob and I are now the only two people who have been at all three Easter Bunny Plunges, and Rob stands as the only one who has plunged all three times. That makes him an EBP 3* - the only one on earth! Congratulations, Rob, and thanks for initiating and leading such a fun trip. Indeed, the planning has already started for the Easter Bunny Plunge 2016. Stay tuned! pru

I'm in if conditions allow! Hope they do. Is there somewhere to hide from the wind? Bob, what are your thoughts? pru

Rob, any decisions yet about Easter Bunny Plunge? Is it a go? And if so, where/ when? pru

Bob, I've lost track of who is doing what! Do you want me to bring my Romany and be prepared to get wet? pru