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When my parents bought two sit-on-top ocean kayaks at an unplanned REI stop en route to the Sierra Nevadas, it was the beginning of my obsession with kayaking. That was probably ten years ago, preceding the sale of our Old Town canoe that we had outgrown. In that new, little orange boat, I caught fish, gazed at mountains and lounged in the middle of lakes. And now I'm lusting about having my own to cart around. I've even done the research to know I can secure one to the roof of my dinky Honda Civic (something having to do with foam blocks and lots of knots). But at this time in my life and considering we're on the cusp of winter, I know it isn't reasonable to drop $500+ on a boat that will just nest on my porch. One day, you'll see me coasting on the way to a lake with my windows down, holding the straps taught to keep a kayak down.

Thankfully, Friends of the Kaw hosted a float earlier this summer and it fulfilled my desire for paddling. We navigated the Kansas River for most of the time, and managed a sharp turn to paddle the Wakarusa River upstream. The backs of my arms and my forearms burned that wonderful burn from pushing water all day. I also came away with terribly sunburned thighs and Chaco tan lines I boasted for weeks. Before the weather turns, a promising offer today might lead to another paddle trip in the next month. Please please please, be true.


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