September 4, 2007
Day Sixteen
Duncan Narrows
Last night I pulled onto the beach beside the Duncan Narrows dock and began hauling gear from my boat into the available shelter. The single site occupant, evident by the presence of only a single kayak on the beack, strolled round my cabin to offer a hand. I apologized for intruding in what would have otherwise been his solitary camp. “That’s OK,” he said.”You are headed west and I am headed east.”
“No, I am not going anywhere. I am staying here tonight.”
“I mean our cabins are back to back. They face opposite directions.”
He disappeared behind the wall of my cabin and I neither saw him nor heard a single human sound for the rest of the night. The next morning I carried my cup of warm oatmeal to his picnic table to demonstrate that I am not completely asocial. I learned that the man's name is Jim Yazvec from Minneapolis. I admired his paddling library, 6 heavy tomes on hydrogeology, sand, beaches, each wrapped in a gallon ziplock bag. When I told him that I felt I was alone at the campsite last night, he said “That is the best compliment you could give me.” Solitary travelers understand.
This morning the air is still. With an early rise I’d have safely rounded Blake. Still, I prefer the solitude of this campsite compared to a night in Rock Harbor and a
rousing game of Island Jeopardy with park rangers and my fellow visitors in the auditorium. Two foxes ran by my camp several times this morning. I finally managed to have my camera in hand for this photograph.
I’ve slathered Arnica cream on my hips, back, shoulders, forearms, and sternum. My body is unfamiliar; harder all over, but the bulge in my forearm below my elbow is particularly strange. I’ve released a layer of fat and processed the toxins. Beneath is deeper level of physical wellness. Mergansers amuse my morning yoga.
I’ve packed the food away and am gathering what I need for a day paddle and hike. I’ll take the letters with me; savor them over the day. They are still unread, except Ruby’s. Hers ended up in my shirt pocket, after the dry bag was stowed and the hatch sealed. I read it before setting out; before water could wash the words away.
Jim got onto the water slightly ahead of me today. He is headed down Duncan Bay and will take the portages toward Belle Island. I'll leave for Belle tomorrow.
1 comment:
I like this one a lot. A lot, a lot. The mere fact that there is dialogue in it makes it stand out but it is so interesting in other ways. Sometimes this blog seems more like a writing exercise or a work of art but this one is more true blue dear diary style and it's very charming.
Also, of course, I like to hear about you chatting with people and getting medicine than being alone in the woods and paddling dangerous waters.
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