Getting on the water at 7am and directing the safety boaters was easy. Getting myself ready and positioned on the last big shoal was just the same. What happened next still makes me want to yell nooooo from the top of my lungs. My paddle decided to crunch between two rocks as I perched myself on a rock waiting for the 300+ paddlers. Anyone that has a lightweight carbon\carbon paddle knows what a great friend it can be. As I looked at my paddle, day 1 of 7, mile 1 1\2 of 106, I closed my eyes in disbelief and opened to an onslaught of paddlers heading our way. With no time to dwell, the work began. There were deer in headlights people, boats flipping and gear floating as some newbies tried their best to make their way through. As I stood there directing with my paddle and holding the broken blade in sorrow, low and behold, floating by me was half of a kayak paddle! I scooped it up waiting for the owner to claim it. No one did. They must have decided half of a paddle was better than none. Four hours later when all 300 people went through, I set out to paddle the next 10 miles with one borrowed paddle, one broken paddle, and one half of a lost paddle.
I absorbed the lush green scenery, chirping birds and beautiful flowers at the botanical garden that was along the river. Took pictures and talked with friends floating by.
But getting off the water at 5pm, shuttling back to camp, buying a paddle from an outfitter parked at camp that only had one choice of a paddle, I made my way to the lost and found and dumped the lost paddle into the box. I wonder what story the owner of that paddle had to tell about their day.
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