diary of a sea kayak guide on lake superior
file under #lakelife
It’s 5:00 am when I wake up and the mosquitos are the size of birds. Isn’t that romantic?
First I walk down to the Lake and haul water to boil for coffee. Probably, I slip on driftwood or a patch of mud, but it’s okay. No one is awake to see it. I light the stove, and walk back to the water to watch the sun stain the sky red.
I haven’t necessarily found the old adage of red skies in morning, sailors take warning to be true. The wispy cirrus clouds are wonderful pinks and orange and red.
Coffee takes at least an hour to make with bulk boiling the water on the stove, sometimes more depending how far I carried the water. Inevitably, someone is up before six to ask if coffee is ready. Inevitably, I apologize no, and it’ll be about forty minutes, but I promise I started it as soon as possible.
In general, people are kind on overnight trips in a way they sometimes aren’t on day trips. On day trips, it sometimes feels like people see you more as a service provider, a song and dance meant to provide a smooth and perfect experience that they paid for (whatever experience they think that might be). People on day trips don’t factor in the wilderness aspect; you’re a wilderness guide, and there are changing factors and aspects of a participatory sea kayak tour that are changing all the time, and it’s not a lazy river float through the Disneyland-esque sea caves.
Overnight trips are different—
People come in understanding that it’s a wilderness adventure and they want to learn how to kayak. They take the time to get to know you as a person, not just as a service provider, and give you a little more grace and understanding— the coffee just… takes a long time. I’m up before five, and doing my best.
I send the early risers down to the lake usually for a little bit of quiet in the morning until coffee is done. I’ll sit and have a cup and chat quietly, before I make the call to the late sleepers for breakfast.
If we’re moving camp, I have everyone pack up tents and gear completely before breakfast. Expedition mindset. By the time we’re done eating, half of the work of moving has already been done.
My perfered breakfasts are avocado toast bar with eggs, or french toast, or a dressed up oatmeal with a lot of butter. My perfered time floating on the water is 9:30am.
Earlier is better though— on the water before eight and everything is still, colors muted. Quiet in a way that lets you hear what is happening in the world. I am a morning person, but I am most especially a morning by the water person.
The water heats and cools more slowly than land, and I think there is a magic in the simple facts of the earth. In the morning, the water holds on to the cold night air even as the day starts happening. There is something about existing in that blending of time that I love.
I try and have folks paddle for just 2-3 hours at a time between breaks. Past cliffs and trees and through see caves. I share my little stories about islands and trees and lichen and glaciers and geology. I have loved this lake for so long, read so much about it, lived and breathed kayaking for so long that I think I am probably saying too much too often most of the time.
Sometimes I think I love it here in a way that is embarrassing, but I’m trying to be less embarrassed about caring deeply.
The things I love most about the Apostle Islands, in no particular order, are the beaches, the clear blue water, the weather, and the sea caves. And the cliffs and general scenery and how it feels like you’re really out in the wilderness.
We break on sandbars and beaches and hunt for agates (and throw them back). It’s sunny with a sea breeze and it feels like an adventure. (Lunch breaks on beaches at the edge of the world).
I am, at any given moment in time, so covered in sunscreen there's a layer of grease on my face. I’m trying to take better care of my skin, my body, this year than I have in the past. Guiding isn’t easy on your body between the physical labor and the sun, and after a while it starts to add up. I took it all better when I was 23— now five years have passed.
All in all we cover 10-15 miles a day, which sounds like a lot and I do think probably feels like a lot for most people. The tandem kayaks are fast though, and with two people in them it’s a teamwork game.
Dinner is usually the most stressful part for me— everyone is hungry after paddling all day, and there’s a lot to do before bed and a lot of questions for me. Water only boils so fast. Last year in the San Juans, my systems and meals were so dialed in that by the end of July everything almost ran itself. This year though, I’m at a new-to-me outfitter with new systems and new gear, bigger groups and co-guiding/training in and it’s felt a lot less smooth so far.
(I think I’m probably too hard on myself— hiccups and things not running perfectly smoothly doesn’t necessarily constitute a failure on my part.)
Usually, from the time we land to the time I am done with dinner and bear proofing tasks about three or so hours have passed, maybe more. I’ll sit around the fire, and on a good night I’ll be in bed before 11. On a bad night (of which there have been more than a few this summer), it’s closer to one am.
I sleep well pretty much no matter what, and I’m grateful for that. I get up the next morning, five am, no matter what happened the day before. Cup of coffee in the sand, wisps of steam on the lake, mornings bring a clean slate.
It’s hard work, but it’s rewarding. Over the course of three days, or four, or more, I get the privilege of helping people realize they can in fact do it, even when it’s hard. I get to watch people become comfortable on the water and in the wilderness, and develop a relationship to a place I love dearly— isn’t that just… kind of incredible?
There are benefits to travel and there are benefits to deeply loving and committing to knowing a place, the intimacy of finding home and understanding in a landscape and sharing some of that with others. I have loved my time travelling, fast-paced and moving through everything, but I am extremely grateful to be back in a place I love knowing.
join my next women’s paddling trip 👀🚣
Come canoe camping and sauna with me this Fall on the women’s small group Boundary Waters canoe camping and hiking trip! Code Maddy24 for $50 off registration:
heyyy hey hey!! I’m writing this literally hours before it’s set to publish because life is chaotic kayak trip after chaotic kayak trip right now! I love it so much! I’ll probably miss a sunday newsletter here and there in the near future as we roll into august— apologies in advance!
In the meantime, here are some good links…
"Sometimes I think I love it here in a way that is embarrassing, but I’m trying to be less embarrassed about caring deeply." (smile). I hear you but let's be not embarrassed together. -- Jeff