Day 18: Just when you think you've seen it all, Nature throws you a curve ball...one made out of some kind of aquatic weed. Floating just beneath the surface of Swofford Pond, I thought at first it was something man-made; however, as I paddled up to it, I could tell it was a vegetative structure. Swofford is full of weed (both invasive and native), but this was the only specimen of its kind.
Ten days have elapsed since my last kayak outing, and I was anxious to do some paddling despite cool morning temperatures. I loaded my gear in the car as soon as the thermometer registered 45°, thinking that an hour's drive would find it raised to a tolerable 50°. When I off-loaded the 'yak and went to get into my waders, I discovered that I'd grabbed my rain pants instead. "Oh, that's gonna be cold!" I said as I rolled up my trouser legs and put on a pair of rubber sandals, clearing my throat preparatory to using all my father's tractor-starting words as I waded in. Within half an hour, I was shedding my wool shirt, comfortable even in the shady niches of the south side of the lake. I wove my way through mazes of "shoestrings" (stems of some small waterlily-like plant), dragged milfoil off the paddles in gobs, put up a large flight of mixed ducks, and wreaked terror and havoc among a population of frogs which seemed to be hanging out with nothing but their eyes showing. I never saw one, only heard their great flops and splashes as the bow penetrated the floating jungle. I had the lake to myself, other than sharing it with the wildlife. Not a fisherman, not another paddler intruded into my sight. A full circuit of the lake accounted for three miles, but as I began a second lap, an unpredicted wind came up. "Enough for today," said I, "I'm going home."
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