The Old Man & The Sea

Once again we have a guest entry from Dr. DC who has recently returned from his adventure to the north of Superior. The big Gitche Gumee. The lake that took down the Edmund Fitzgerald in 1975. The disaster being later immortalized by Gordon Lightfoot in his song "The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald".

Anyway - suffice to say it is a scary lake and Dr. DC left his home last week hell bent to paddle (in his brand new kayak) out to copper island some 10 or so miles off the north shore of the big Gitche Gumee. I'll let him tell his story.
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Bobby!!! Just got back! The virgin kayaker fulfills his greatest dream! The trip was magnificent! I once again felt like a 16-year-old virgin in the capable hands of a 35-year-old hooker from Val d'Or. All was right in the world!

In the early morning of August 17, 2006, I saw the sunbeams glint off the Lake as she first caught sight of my manly, 15 foot, rigid kayak; of course, tantalizingly ribbed in all the right places.




But, to be honest, it was with a mix of trepidation, longing and bashfulness that I donned my protection and mounted her soft, supple body. While afraid to look, I knew that her horizon was spreading before me. In that moment I knew that life would never be the same again. I thrust my untried paddle into her waters and felt her gently give way as she relished the first passion and fumbling of my inexperience (this, I believe, is the dream of all coquette lakes).





So, as she began to heave and moan, I was forced to thrust my paddle deeper and harder.




Panting, she grew wetter and wetter and pulled me down upon her writhing waves. Clearing my mind of all petty things, I gave in to the pure, carnal lust of her fury. On and on and on I rode.


Hours later, sweating, tired and very sore, I eased my kayak out. That night I had a very fitful sleep. With her scent still lingering upon me, I re-lived every passionate moment of the day before. Each day after, I rode her over and over and over......addicted to her tempestuous wiles.

But, all things have their season; my time to leave had arrived. On that final morning, I could not just drive away without one last encounter. Early as the sun rose upon her majestic body, I crept upon her one last time. Mesmerized by the gentle rising and falling of her swollen crests, I rode her as she slept. Then, as I made ready to leave, she awoke just enough to wave good-bye.

Now......we only meet in our dreams.