prudenceb

The holiday event of the year is now only a week away! Hope we'll have a great turnout. In the meantime, so everyone will know what to bring, please sign up for food on Janice's post! pru

Dessert! pru

Near death experiences I do think count for A LOT! pru

Is it almost Thanksgiving?! Yes! Does that mean it's almost December?! Yup! So Is the annual NSPN Holiday Party right around the corner?! You bet! So this is just another reminder to everyone to make sure the party is on YOUR calendar! (Saturday, December 6) We'll be posting soon for food sign up. We also wanted to let everyone know that we're working on getting some great raffle items to benefit MITA, Maine Coast Heritage Trust and Salem Sound Watch. We're hoping to have a number of unique new raffle items this year: art work by some of our very talented club members! Anyone interested in donating art or framed photos please read Cathy Folster's posts on the subject. And if you're planning to donate, please let either Cathy or Janice Cotton know what you'll be bringing. We need to set up the raffle in advance with appropriate signs etc. Hope everyone can make it! Those of you who weren't able to make it last year missed a really great time. Janice and pru

I had thought that a broken thumb incurred in process of removing from car just reoutfitted boat picked up that morning from Carl Ladd that I hadn't even paddled - thus wiping out entire fall paddling season ( two and a ahalf months!) including 30 already planned days on the water - might qualify, but I hereby gracefully concede to Josko, altho I do note that it was apparently still possible for him to paddle with cracked ribs etc - even as far as Labrador! I found, and my surgeon and OT concurred, that without the working opposable thumb with which one has grown up one should stay out of a kayak, unless one is being towed all day! pru

No! I go for the classics: marshmallows, Hershey's milk chocolate and Nabisco Graham crackers...just like 1957! Actually, the only thing missing was the classic Campfire brand marshmallow that no longer exists as far as I know. They came in boxes in two layers, maybe eight firm little sugar dusted white pillows in each layer - separated by a sheet of wax paper... Yumm!pru

Chasing or Being Chased by the Polar Vortex: Muscongus Bay November 14-16, 2014 Wind and fire. Hands and feet. Flexibility. Preparation. These were the bywords of a recent trip that four of us - Warren, Rob, Cathy and I - took to Muscongus Bay to test out our winter camping gear and enjoy the beauty of one of our favorite places when everyone but a few hardy lobstermen is spending his or her weekend sitting in a comfy chair next to a steaming radiator or over a blowing hot air vent or tucked into a soft bed under layers of blankets. The weather gods finally flung the dreaded polar vortex our way after it had lingered over the Midwest and South earlier in the week, and we drove up in conditions that felt more like late December than mid November. It was still snowing lightly when I met up with Warren at Muscongus Harbor. It was in the 30's. The parking area was largely taken up by docks that had been hauled out of the water for the winter. By the time Rob and Cathy arrived a half hour later, the snow had stopped. Will, the man who oversees his family's little harbor, came down to greet us with the following words, "My, but you are motivated." Our friends had used different words to describe us when we told them how we would be spending our weekend. I found that planning and then packing for this cold weekend was a real challenge. My new one-person four-season tent was bulkier. The 15-degree bag took up more room. Extra clothes and food for both camp and boat. Thermoses, extra water for all the cocoa and tea and soup and dinners that would need to be cooked. By the time I had finished loading the boat, I was sweating in my dry suit, but cooled down uncomfortably as we all attended to last minute chores that required less activity. It was overcast when we launched, and the sea was that gunmetal gray that is the definition of cold. The wind was from the northwest, so we chose to head over to the east side of Hog Island to paddle in the lee of the wind. This was successful, and we comfortably made it to Crow Island, returning to a camping spot that has been the site of many successful trips in the past. We had chosen it specifically because of its accessibility, its all tide landing capacity, and because it offered sheltered campsites in its woodsy interior. We landed, unpacked and set up camp. After which Warren checked out his new GoPro, which would be a source of endless amusement the rest of the weekend. We were mindful that the day would be short with sunset at 4:30 in the afternoon. We wanted to be squared away when we returned from our planned afternoon paddle. Under skies that had mostly cleared leaving us with sun, large puffy clouds and great expanses of blue, we set out. While there was at that moment little wind, Cathy still found her hands painfully cold, and we gathered around while Rob tended to her with hand warmers and a storm cag wrap. Her neoprene gloves were totally failing to keep her hands warm. I had just bought two pairs of neoprene paddling mittens before the trip, and dug out what I thought was one of the pairs for Cathy to wear. As it turned out, my carefully stashed mittens were a pair for someone with two right hands We soon learned that we couldn't rely on blue sky and friendly looking clouds, as a gray mass to the northwest headed in our direction. Looking ahead, there was bright sky and warm sun. But coming rapidly from behind was a snow squall blowing cold icy bits horizontally across the water. And then the strange phenomenon of feeling warmth on our left cheeks while our right sides were pelted with snow. Greenland Cove in the distance started to disappear. The sea kicked up and we paddled toward the shelter of the harbor. The squall passed by as quickly as it had arrived, and we watched it heading south and east beyond Hog Island. Rob and Cathy warmed up at the harbor. We returned to camp. The first order of business was organizing supper and getting a fire started as day was turning into puffy pink sunset and night was rapidly approaching, even though it was barely four in the afternoon. There is a lot less time to do everything when you camp in the wintertime, and our awareness of this informed the plans that we made for any day's activity. The best laid plans, however, do not always work out, and I ended up sitting on a rock with Rob, attempting to find all the ingredients for a pasta supper in the dark with the wan light of a Luci lantern and my own headlamp. Unfortunately, we'd set up the kitchen too far away from the fire, so could only cast longing looks at it as we cooked dinner. We all ate around the fire, however. We agreed that without the fire, we would by now (5 pm) all be snuggled up in our tents. The temperature fell below freezing. Cold bright stars emerged on the moonless night. But the fire made it possible to stay up enjoying it all. Sometime close to 8 pm, we called it a night and went off to bed. Another lesson learned: Just three feet away from the fire it's cold. By the time I had brushed my teeth and organized myself to get into the tent, my hands and feet were both cold. It took time to warm up in my sleeping bag, but eventually I did, and spent a fairly comfortable night. A 15 degree bag, fleece throw blanket, wool long underwear top and bottom, socks and down booties, plus a hat that kept falling off whenever I turned, proved sufficient. First lobster boat at 4:02 am, and first call of a loon moments thereafter. Saturday morning dawned bright, clear and cold. A bit of a struggle to talk myself out of my warm cocoon, but the minute I did so and moved out onto the east facing rocks where Warren was already up and drinking a hot beverage, the temperature seemed to go up about a million degrees. Absence of wind plus presence of sun equals a perfect place to enjoy the beginning of the day, even when temperatures are still low. A loon with his winter plumage swam slowly back and forth across the path of the rising sun on the water. He turned his head and the sun caught the glow of water on his beak, a temporary jewel that appeared then disappeared as he moved along. We watched a lobster boat working below us. It'll do. Once we were all up, we ate some of Cathy's excellent banana bread, then convened over a chart to plan the day's paddle. Weather forecast was for NW to W winds 5-10 knots. This sounded, from our warm perch on the rocks, like eminently reasonable conditions, and we planned a route down the lee side of Hog to Loud Island, which we hoped to circumnavigate, hugging the lee shore again south and then returning hugging the coast to the village of Round Pond. It appeared to be about nine miles, which would allow us plenty of time to get back to camp before afternoon darkness descended. Cathy did some exercises to prepare for the day. Our gear was dry and warm from where we had laid it out in the sun. We prepared and launched around 10:30 am. The minute we started crossing from Crow to Hog, we realized that our casual confidence in our plans might be misguided. The wind was icy cold as we paddled into it to get to the shelter of the island. It was better on the east side of Hog, but as soon as we reached the crossing to the beach at the north end of Louds, we found that the wind had shifted and was now coming from the southwest, directly into our faces. It was a cold paddle over to the beach, where we stopped briefly, These pictures don't do justice to how cold and windy it was! We huddled together at the edge of a field of dry grasses bordering the beach to reconsider our plan. A wind of speed and direction that would have been nothing to think about in the summer was, on this wintry November Saturday, a significant challenge. We bagged the plan to go around Louds and into Round Pond, and decided just to wander down the east coast of Louds a bit and then turn around. The houses on the island were boarded up for winter. The little cove was deserted and Cathy and Rob paddled under the high dock. We turned around and headed back north, stopping at a sandy beach out of the wind for lunch. We contemplated an NSPN fundraiser calendar. Miss December in November? Or perhaps you prefer Mr. December in November? We brightly huddled together (there was a lot of huddling on this trip!) for warmth and then set out again. Rob wanted to try towing me (yes please!) to see whether there was any difference in the function of his tow belt with and without the bungee. Happy to help out! It was easy to take pictures, and I enjoyed bouncing along with Rob doing all the work! My ride ended prematurely, however, when Cathy's hands once again froze up, this time from putting on the cold mittens after lunch. We switched off the tow, and Cathy worked to warm her hands while Rob continued his experiment. We were relieved to once again be in the lee of the wind along Hog Island, with a wind shift again from the south to the west. For the first time all day, paddling was an easy pleasure. Cathy had warmed up, the sea was calm, and looking up at the bare trees amidst the moss-draped firs was peaceful. Rob went to investigate a little cave formed by rocks leaning against each other. And then back to Crow. Our planned nine-mile paddle had been less than half of that, but that was what the day had allowed us. I managed to fall in the water trying to carry the stern of my boat across the seaweed covered rocks, and cursed when my carefully guarded gloves were flooded with water. It took a half hour to warm my hands as I changed clothes in my tent. What would this mean about a capsize in these conditions? Nothing good! Rob got a fire going immediately. So by mid-afternoon, we were happy to be huddling around it, frying our shins and feet. Rob prepared a group dinner as it got dark. Warren who until the night before had never had a s'more (what?!), when he consumed three of them was happy to have more flaming marshmallows to add to his graham crackers and chocolate. The fire was wonderful. Just wonderful. Without fire, the trip would have been impossible or possible but just plain unpleasant. We stayed up until seven. Learning from the previous night's experience, some of us did our evening ablutions in a timely fashion, allowing us to return to the fire with clean teeth and empty bladders to warm up again before bed. Another cold night. Another sunrise. Another winter loon. But sun gave way to overcast, and we didn't have the benefit of being toasted by the sun. We didn't dawdle over breakfast as we had the day before. We hustled to deconstruct our campsites, to get into drysuits, and to launch toward home. We worried about this But still enjoyed the brief paddle, buddies heading home, pillows of clouds hovering over the islands in the distance. We were still smiling when we arrived and the prospect of a car heater had never been more enticing! This was a successful trip in that - by and large - we had all prepared well, and learned lessons about what we might need to do differently the next time out. As I said at the outset, on the water it was all about keeping hands and feet warm. Having extra pairs of dry gloves or mittens is key. Don't put wet gloves on already cold hands. Try a pair of liner socks. We also learned in a new way that wind speed and direction in the winter are very different than the same conditions in the summer. Even a five to seven knot wind right in your face can be stinging, and planning a route that offers maximal protection from the wind will increase comfort. But the best laid plans should not be adhered to if conditions change, as they did for us. Even an easy nine mile paddle may be too much if you can't find that protection. And finally, we all agreed that a winter camping trip won't happen if conditions or location don't allow a campfire. The fire made being outside not only tolerable but positively pleasant. Certainly being able to toast marshmallows was most excellent, but even more so was the capacity to warm cold body parts and keep them toasty. We have attempted to set rules for wind and precipitation that will inform our go/no-go decisions. Our interaction with the polar vortex was a very useful experience! pru

Brilliant! Now if I can just find an extension cord long enough to bring it with me to use on overnight camping trips... pru

November’s Mellow Sunday – Odiorne to Gerrish Island and Back 11/9/14 Some NSPN members have been on amazing expeditions to amazing places this year and written trip reports that have allowed the rest of us to ride along from our couches. Which makes it harder to write about a one day trip in our own paddling backyard in mid-November where nothing of special note – other than enjoying the gift of being out on the water when no one else was – happened. As one who has been shore-bound, living the reality that Most Kayaking Accidents Happen on Land, I was particularly eager to get out on the water…any water!!...once my orthopedic hand doctor gave the OK…which she finally did last week. I was under strict instructions to do nothing that would jeopardize my still healing broken thumb – so no rolling, rescues, rocks. Just paddle. Good enough for me! While the NOAA graphical forecast was mostly an angry magenta for winds and seas, as is often the case the day did not match the forecast. Maybe if we’d been out at the Isle of Shoals it would have, but where we were we saw neither 20+ knot gusts nor two to four foot seas. Instead, softish winds at our backs from the southwest, and the sea with just a bit of texture. My wish for a mellow paddle to take the thumb out for a test drive was answered. Ten of us gathered at Odiorne – after phone calls to both the Rye Police and the Seacoast regional office of the NH Parks and Recreation Dept. to ensure that we would not be locked out of the lot – around 10 am on Sunday. Overcast and mildish, but November nonetheless, we dressed for a cold weather paddle (which had some of sweating when we ultimately headed out). The boats were reading to go before we were: Our motley crew posed: Cathy modestly hid from a close-up: Jeff showed off his new “bring on those rocks!” confidence: Mike appeared, on land at any rate, to be a bit dubious about the whole operation: But the group – Cathy, Jeff, Mike, Doug, Nancy, Wayne, Bill, Gene, Kate and I – stopped milling around precisely at 10:30, the planned launch time. Bill immediately started paddling his boat weirdly. (Maybe I’ve just forgotten what options there are for seating?) The route out to Little Harbor was deserted. All the moorings were empty. Over the entire day, we ended up seeing a grand total of three moving boats, the first a fishing boat that passed us before we got out of Little Harbor. While the original plan had been to head south toward Rye Beach, Doug proposed a change in plans to take advantage of the tide and the excellent weather, and so we turned north rather than south, heading for a Gerrish island circumnavigation. To the lighthouse! For most of us it was a familiar route, but Kate had somehow never gone beyond this point. Jeff held the sky on his head to keep the rest of us safe. It was a nice sky even without Jeff’s intervention: There was a nice little swell that took us to Wood Island, from whence we crossed over to Gerrish. Along the rocks: Nancy seemed to catch waves whether she was looking for them or not: At Braveboat Harbor, Doug found a perfect one footer (!) and surfed on in. We lunched. Kate’s outfit showing that perhaps she’s been paddling solo for a little too long… The rest of us: And some unwelcome visitors, who were not pretty on pink. Doug was welcome, but a little scary! And after swatting the flies for a half hour or so, we pushed off to make sure we’d have enough water underneath us through Cathy’s favorite paddling place, Chauncey Creek. See how enthusiastic she looks? I love this area in the fall. We don’t have to share the area with paddle boarders or motorboats. Instead, there is the beauty of New England in late fall: The tide was flowing against us, but we bubbled along. Back and forth, to and fro, we snaked through the marsh until we emerged near the culvert, where Doug passed the time awaiting the slowpokes among us going back and forth through the culvert, where the current gave a nice ride in the direction we were going in. I paused to give the resident boating polar bear a special greeting, one polar bear to another, and soon we saw the third boat of the day (the second having been some people sport fishing from their motorboat), a scull rowed by a white-haired woman whose easy strokes easily outdistanced even Doug, who gave valiant chase, but lost. And greeting us as we neared the mighty Piscataqua, the sun. Here it comes: We gathered up to cross. What followed was the least disciplined crossing of a major waterway I’ve ever participated in – possible and fine when it appeared that just about everyone else on earth had stowed their vessels for the winter. Cathy and Bill took the opportunity to crash into each other and laugh hilariously every few seconds. Hey, guys, try that out sometime when the big boys are throwing confusing wakes in every direction. An uneventful day, so Jeff decided he needed some rescue practice, and because it was such a nice calm day, Gene offered to help him out. Each did his part perfectly, while the rest of us gathered about, watching and chatting. And just about good to go: By now, the day was definitely feeling like Late Fall Afternoon, the sun lower in the sky, and it was time to head back. Two people were silhouetted on the jetty. They watched us all come by and we shouted out a halloo! In the department of It’s a Small World, turned out that the woman was the original owner of Mike’s boat! She’d special ordered it – it would have to be a special order to end up with a purple seam! – but found it too large for her, and sold it through Charles River C&K, where Mike snapped it up! And calmly onward to the launch – one of those excellent days at Odiorne where one neither launches nor lands in the mud! Thank you tide! Thank you weather! And thank you to all of my companions for helping make the mellow day on the water I’d been yearning for. And might I add one last thing, in our midst…who knew?!...it turned out we had a real fashionista! pru

WE'RE ON THEN! Looks as though there's sufficient enthusiasm/ interest to proceed. So see everyone at Odiorne tmrw morning in time for 10:30 launch. If you are intending to join, pls PM me flost plan info asap. Thanks! pru

Hah, Kate! This thing called " float plan info" is: name, cell, emergency contact, car and license, and boat description! pru

The weather gods may be throwing a curve ball at my desire for a mellow paddle (if I may use a metaphor that makes little sense). As of now, forecast for Sunday is calling for SW winds 10-15 gusting to 20+ with seas 3+. This may make playing around in Little Harbor less of a pain than going out and fighting wind outside the breakwater. What are peoples' thoughts? Options range from on one extreme cancelling the paddle to going ahead but being prepared to either stay in more protected water inside the jetty to finding another venue. My extreme desire to get out on the water be ausenI've been shorebound for so long should not be the determining factor! Weather has been known to change, and NOAA has been known to be wrong. I'm prepared to wait til midday tmrw to make decision. Please weigh in here. pru

Just spoke with Rye Police Dept. They said boat launch area is open and " should be open" this wknd. If anyone else wants to call later on to see if we get the same answer, fine. So as of now, it's still Odiorne! pru

I was worrying about this earlier and looked on line and found nothing. I even left a message at the regional Seacoast office of the NH parks. I will call police in Rye Beach tmrw to see what they can tell me. Stay tuned! We can always switch if we need to. pru

Sorry you can't make it, Pablo. Another time for sure! pru

Bump.

I've posted new thread for Odiorne on Sunday. Pls PM me float plan info, if you havent already done so. Thanks. pru

L3+ trip from Odiorne along coast to Wallis Sands/Rye Harbor. Marine forecast four days out calling for winds and seas diminishing from previous days. Dry suits required. Opportunity for rock play, altho my healing thumb and I will take a pass on that. This trip is mostly an opportunity to get out, see buddies, and have what I hope will be a calm paddle. Final go/no go decision on Saturday am. Beach briefing 10 am. Launch by 10:30. Off water mid afternoon. PPPO? Could those of you who haven't yet sent me float plan info pls PM it to me. Look forward to seeing all of you! pru

On Wednesday we can make decision about day and location based on weather. pru

Let's give it a couple of days to nail down time/ place preferences. Weather forecast tonight - as if they know anything - was predicting windy day Saturday, which might make Sunday more reasonable. In the meantime, if you're seriously interested, send PM methe usual float plan info. Thanks! pru

I'm interested in going out for a mellowish cold weather paddle next wknd. Mellow because it will be first time paddling since I broke my thumb over two months ago. I'm leaning toward Saturday, Lane's Cove to Rockport - or toward river if conditions indicate. 10:30 Launch. Please post here your interest or preference for venue/day. Here's hoping it will be different than this wknd! Obviously, this will be a dry suits required, minimum L3 trip. Pru

Great, I'll post in next few days. pru

Anyone interested in trying for next wknd, then? pru

If by chance this trip gets cancelled for weather reasons - storm and gale warnings now posted by NOAA - would anybody be interested in trying again the following wknd, either Sat or Sun? pru

Where are the photos?! pru