The Boathouse, The Bridge, The Kayak and The Crane

It would seem that on most days off, Mother Nature likes to tag team with the infamous Murphy and play the cruel and lawless joke of bringing upon us their bad weather forecasts. Air that seems so cruel and uncomfortable that you'd swear it has teeth; rain and shadow and the kind of miserable overcast gloom and doom that makes you want to stay inside all day, or even make you almost wish you were back behind your desk. But not today. Today was that one day I wait for every year. The kind of day where the sky blue sky has an almost celestial shine to it and the breeze brings the hot temperatures down just enough that you can feel so perfectly comfortable in your own skin. It is seen on the faces of every pedestrian as they smile and converse with total strangers. It can be heard through the chords of the guitar played by a man down the street who is not playing for money, he's playing because it feels like a good day to play. Yes, for me this was that day, and this is how it went.

First off, I'm sure you can all agree that any day which starts without an alarm clock is, for the most part, going to be a good one. That ability to let your own body wake up refreshed and ready to go seems so rare and an opportunity to be revered. I don't know that I spent more than twenty minutes in the apartment before locking the door behind me and seeking out breakfast.

A large French Vanilla and a tomato and spinach breakfast sandwich later* and I'm immersed in a book on the front patio of Red Brick, allowing the Sun to blanket me as I read. And when I speak of people and their moods on a day like this, no example seems so perfect to me than that of the elderly couple, well into their 70's-80's, sitting at the table next to me, reading their paper and sipping their cappuccinos, reminding anyone who passes by that a bond can still be forever.

*This was perhaps the best breakfast sandwich I've ever had. It was nothing fancy, but they obviously prepared it on a properly seasoned panini press that made all the difference in the world

After breakfast, I continued in search of nothing. No path, no direction, no plan and no worry; just walking and letting my random thoughts and the weather lead me where they willed. As such, I shortly thereafter found myself at the front stoop of The Boathouse, one of Guelph's most treasured and must visit hot spots, especially on warm summer days. The bulk of their business is ice cream, and I mean good, keep you coming back for more, ice cream. So I grabbed a cone and headed towards the bridge you see in the picture. I don't know what it is about bridges but they seem to contain this quality that captivates me; I find them romantic and timeless and this one was no exception (cheesy, I know, but I tells it like it is).

Just over the bridge, I strayed down a path through the woods that follows the banks of Speed River and watched as people casually paddled their way along in their rented canoes and kayaks. That vision was enough for me, being in one of my ever so common "why not?" attitudes, to head over to the boat rental and grab myself a kayak.

"I've never been in a kayak" I told the young man. "What are the odds I'm going to tip over and find myself eating a river water sandwich while I'm out there?"

"Nobody ever tips over" he assures me "These things are built to avoid that"

Comfortable with his assurance and excited to head out, I waited. Waited for another patron to return their rented vessel so that I may venture out onto the water and experience a different perspective of the river bank.

Ten minutes later I watched as two young guys paddled their way to the dock, drenched to the bone, cursing and laughing all at the same time.

"We both tipped over" stated the one guy, and as he did, the guy handling the rentals looked up at me and said "It's not supposed to happen like this"

Now, I know how to swim, and I'm not afraid of water, at least not when it's clean and when I know what's in it (providing we aren't talking whales here); but I think a part of me is still somewhat leery of "river water" since my China travels (click here if you want to learn more http://pbean.blogspot.com/2006/05/real-yellow-river.html) and so the last thing I wanted to be doing was taking a dive into some disease, or possibly fecal infested waters. However, still wanting to enjoy the day's sunshine and some adventure, as minor as it may have been, I climbed in and paddled my way along.

Perhaps some of you have already taken in the pleasure of relaxing as you row with the current of Speed River, but for those that haven't, I can say with absolute honesty that it was one of the most relaxing experiences of my life. Scenically it was unreal, with markers along the way that reference a map they hand you with the rental unit; along this route there are quite a few tidbits of history to take in. Moreover, I passed a number of other fellow rowers and with each of them a conversation was exchanged, as if it were an understanding that being on the water meant you were automatically pleasant and in the mood to share a part of your day with someone else.

I made it as far as marker #13 (if you want to know what that means then you'll just have to get out there and explore) before pausing for a while and watching as a crane emerged from the foliage along the shore to catch his lunch. Its movements were hypnotic as it tweaked its head and ruffled its feathers now and again; I couldn't look away. I wanted nothing more than to take a picture of this peaceful bird, but when I heard the unfortunate demise of the two young men back at The Boathouse launch pad, I opted to keep my camera in the car.

Satisfied with my time entranced with the winged creature, I began to paddle back from whence I came, and while doing so, and after about two hours of exertion, I started to realize that I don't use these muscles very often. In fact, I don't know that I've ever used them at all. My body began to grow angry with me, my legs fell asleep simultaneously and I knew at that point I had only just found something I know I will need to do again. Something of a challenge in need of conquering. And while that challenge remains for another day, for right then and there it required the comfort of a bench, an ice cold bottle of water, and perhaps an afternoon nap, which I did almost involuntarily.

So how do you end a day that can only to this point be described as spontaneous, memorable and relaxed? I suppose there are plenty of ways it could go: a fireworks display in the park seems to come to mind, or perhaps dinner at a new restaurant where the menu fits the season to the point of perfection. Perhaps, and only by odd definition, it almost doesn't matter what the night brings, so long as it doesn't happen too soon. For me, it was capped off with pub fare at The Woolwich Arms, a local establishment that boasts the pride of local draught, beer tasting menu included, and bison burgers topped with orange chutney and a creamy Gruyere. Match these culinary selections with the company of a good friend and you've got yourself a day that made the year long wait worth while.

Inevitably, and unfortunately, however, the end comes to all things, and so as I pulled into my apartment complex at the end of the evening to the sight of twelve police officers stationed outside the entrance to my building, I felt a sense of truly achieving everything that a day like this could offer. Reflecting upon it, I suppose in terms of making life changes and discovering a new course of things to come, or finding a solutions to life's most intricate secrets, it may not have been a period for the history books; but ask me if it was a day worth detailing and writing about and I will answer simply "Yes."

Wishing you all a day of experiences

-Phil

PS You may be asking yourself why a dozen of Guelph's finest law enforcement officers were chatting so casually and covertly outside my building. Well, to that I can only answer by stating you will have to check back to find out.