Roll with It! CP's Winter Fav

The Rolling and Rescue class at the Skokie Lifetime Fitness pool introduced me to The Northwest Passage about 7 years ago. I took the class with my dad and some family friends. I had previously paddled a kayak only a handfull of times.

Instructor Keith Heger worked with my buddy Kulby and me during the first night. As the end of the pool session drew to a close, Kulby had hit his roll once, and I was still just making it halfway up, sucking down a gulp of air and then plunging back into the warm pool water.

It drove me crazy, but in a good way. For the rest of the week I was itching to get back into a boat and give it another shot. Walking through the halls of my high school I kept mentally replaying classroom instructor Bonnie Perry's nuggets of rolling technique, "Think hips. Don't yank on your paddle. Roll like you're in ballet. Head last!"

Instead of spacing out and doodling during Constitution lectures in my U.S. History class, I tried to trigger my hip-snap-head-dink muscle memory. I was going to roll during the next session. I just had to.

Sure enough, I hit my first roll halfway through the next pool session. But the instructors wouldn't let me stop there. They made a rolling junkie out of me. Offside, angel rolls, C to C, hand rolls, they were always ready to throw down the next challenge.

I came to enjoy the post class hot tub social almost as much as the pool time. Everyone who was taking or teaching the class would gather to congratulate each other, trade outdoor stories and sometimes talk a little friendly smack. It was a blast.

Now I get to share my knowledge and passion for rolling (and paddling in general) at the pool sessions, and the best part is that I'm still learning every time I go. In my opinion the highpoint of the whole experience is that there are so many seasoned, friendly kayak instructors hanging out at the pool each week. With all that paddling wisdom floating around it's pretty much impossible to leave without learning something new. When the kayak launches are iced over and the winter winds are ripping, there's no better way to get your paddling rocks off than attending the Rolling and Rescue class. The chance to hone the skills you already have, learn new strokes and rolls, hear about all the cool stuff other people have been doing and goof around in the water with some fun loving folks, what could be better than that?

Check it out here:
http://nwpassage.com/rolling.htm

Homeric Inspiration c/o Michael Watts, seasoned traveler

We just returned from our latest round of kayak adventures in the Greek Isles. What a blast! Sometime between the cliff jumping, paddling, hiking and eating--mmmmm, stuffed wine leaves and Greek salad--one of the paddlers on the first ever NWP Santorini trip penned this poem. There's just something about the beautifully colorful and WARM Mediterranean, incredible volcanic landscapes and unmatched Greek hospitality that spurs artistic creativity. Check it out:



Here--the Isles of the Cyclades
Arising from primeval seas.
Isles of laughter, isles of mirth
Encircling Apollo's birth
Like a swarm of rocky bees

Buzzing with volcanic fire,
Quieted how? by History's lyre.
And dreaming 'neath a Grecian sky
Homer's mythic heroes lie
With legends of the heart's desire.

But this special isle of St Irene
Once so fiery, now serene,
Has given us a week of joy.
So every water girl and boy
Gives thanks for days so fresh and clean,
For salty seas, and what has been
The realisation of a dream.





["snap, snap, snap, snap"]

Theme Song

Winter Pool Classes

Perfect your eskimo roll with us this Fall! http://www.nwpassage.com/rolling.htm

Galapagos Islands

Read about Darwin's first trip to the Galapagos, then come check it out with us! Kayaking is the best way to explore the amazing diversity of wildlife there!
Sea Kayaking Ecuador's Galapagos Islands. | Canoe & Kayak Magazine

Nancy's Favorite Place to Paddle - Crete!

Around the office there's no secret as to which of our trips is my favorite. Whenever someone calls or stops by to ask about about our paddling trips, if Crete comes up they are invariably told, "Oh, you want to hear about Crete? Then hang on, you need to talk to Nancy."

People travel for various reasons, whether it's incredible views, incredible water, an opportunity for a totally new experience, or just a chance to get away. I love to paddle the coast of Crete because to me it has it all.

The first time I visited Crete with the Northwest Passage I didn't even get out on the water. Still, there was just something about the place that captured me. I was hooked. It may sound cheesy to say it felt like something out of a storybook, but it did, like going back in time to the age of Greek mythology. The terrain is just so incredible; I spent my time hiking and staying at the little white-washed inns on the coast which Crete is famous for - it was an escape from the modern world.

The next time I went back to Crete, though, I was ready to hit the water. I had spent so much time looking at those blue Mediterranean waters last time, and there was no way I wasn't going to paddle this time around.

It was a whole new way to experience Crete. The water was wonderfully calm and just as warm as the air around me. I've paddled most of the Midwest, and it was unlike anything I've ever experienced before. And though later I would go on trips that offered more challenging paddles around the Grecian islands, or yoga in the ancient ruins, that first trip on those calm easy waters is what sticks in my memory to this day.

Last summer NWP superguide Ryan Allen double-dipped some of the Midwest's best sea kayaking. After paddling the Apostles, he pressed on to Isle Royale to get his fill of Lake Superior. Here's his account of the second trip:

Isle Royale

Things were coming together nicely.....we were at a cajun festival, enjoying some jambalaya, listening to some lively zydeco as the full moon rose above Lake Superior. The three of us drove from our separate lives to come together and share in an Isle Royale Sea Kayaking trip. We were getting to know each other while in Grand Portage, MN. Just a few miles south of the Canadian border, this was the location that fur trappers rendezvoused to trade. It's an eight mile portage up to old Fort Charlotte on the Pigeon River.

From where we sat enjoying a bubbly beverage we had plans to take the small ferry boat to Isle Royale. For some reason it didn't appeal to us to head for the interior with our boats, like past adventurers. Upon arrival to Windigo Ranger Station on the Isle, we were then going to enjoy six days living from out of our sea kayaks. Skirting the shoreline and meeting the wind, we had flexible plans. We just couldn't wait to be alive with the natural surroundings!

Still on the mainland for the night, we had set up camp about as close to the ferry docks as possible. The Grand Portage Indian Reservation has camping available at their marina. With the Labor Day weekend coming up the main area was filled. They decided to send us over to where the ferries Wenonah and Voyager II pick up. With no morning commute this was a convenient location, minus the nearby lamp that shone so bright. The Cajun music blared into the moonlit night driven by the accordion.

It was up early for us and our tents were drenched with dew. A good sign for us with our kayaking plans, this usually indicates a lack of wind and calm conditions on the water. An even better sign for the three hour crossing on the ferry Wenonah, as I've heard it referred to as the “barf barge” before. With a quick breakfast in us we did some last minute packing and then got our heavily loaded kayaks over to the dock. Despite having heard about weight limits for the ferry ride, I was relieved when the friendly crew helped load our laden boats onto the roof of their vessel.

It feels good at the beginning of a longer trip when you leave the car behind. I had gone over the trip checklist several times, but couldn't shake that feeling that I was forgetting something vital. We had a lot of stuff, and most importantly we had boats, permits and food. I began to focus on the glassy water and the charts of the area. The three of us talked about the route possibilities, of which Isle Royale has so many. We were permitted to start from the western side of the island, at Windigo and finish at Rock Harbor 5 days later. Due to the Isle's lozenge like shape, we could go around the south side for fewer miles, or up along the north side, around the notorious Blake Point, and finish into protected Rock Harbor.

On any extended trip, flexibility is always a key and we decided to keep an open mind and plan according to the weather patterns. At the moment the wind was slight and west. Tomorrow called for more of the same. So we decided to head North and around to Huginnin Cove. An eight mile push out of Washington Harbor around the Northwest corner, beyond McGinty Cove.

Upon arrival at Windigo, we had a customary talk from the rangers about Leave No Trace ethics and wildlife information specific to Isle Royale. September means rut season for the moose on the island, so give them plenty of space. Also, boil water for two minutes to kill off the tapeworm that lives locally in Lake Superior, good stuff to know! The Hydatid tapeworm's typical hosts are canines and Isle Royale is home to 20 plus wolves. Rarely seen, but stalking the moose, the wolf population on Isle Royale is dangerously inbred. Anyhow, the facilities at Windigo were nice, with bathrooms that had coin operated showers, tons of natural history information in the visitors center and even a store that had a roll of film. I got our permit, complete with probable camp sites, from the ranger's office and made it back down to the docks just afternoon.

We bumped into the first other kayaker we had seen yet. A nice guy from Michigan who had been on the island for a month and had circumnavigated it twice. More impressively he had done this in an Old Town Loon! Not the fastest piece of plastic, the Loon is comfy, and can hold a good bit of gear though. After hearing some of the friendly man's stories the three of us looked at each other with curious jealousy. Circumnavigation, eh?

It was time to hit the water, so we hefted the boats (Valley Skerray, Perception Eclipse and Necky Looksha) down to the side dock and launched into Washington Harbor. We paddled west out of the harbor into a pesky ten mile an hour breeze. I instantly noticed that our pace was quick. All of us felt great to be in the cockpit and stretching our bodies with repetitive paddle strokes. Conversation flowed nicely as we eased out of the harbor around the Northwest corner. Autumn colors were starting to tantalize our senses as we watched the Isle's landscape go by. Soon enough we were in a peaceful Hugginin Cove. This is a strategic camping location for any Isle Royale paddling group. From here there is a 15 mile section that doesn't offer a good landing as you head eastbound. So by sleeping here, we thought, with an early start, we could make it to Little Todd Harbor. We had the evening to enjoy the quiet waters of the cove and the forest surrounding us.

Being awake before the sunrise always makes me feel that I'm doing something important. If it wasn't meaningful, then I'd still be asleep! But hey, with the stillness of the waters, and the beauty of first light it's never a let down. The wind was setting up well for us this morning. About 7 knots out of the west, and we decided to ride it along the island's most inaccessible coast. Once we pulled out of the small cove our progress could be noted by looking at the scrolling shoreline. The cliffs weren't particularly tall, just constant. Sometimes the vegetation had come down almost to the waterline, but, aside from a couple of very rocky landings this was a rugged edge of the island. The three of us were able to stop on the longest rocky beach though. This was about 4 miles west of Little Todd Harbor and it offered us a place to stretch and eat a fresh lunch. We had been moving quickly and in three hours had traveled close to 12 miles. The wind was still a gentle breeze, stirring the leaves of the birch on shore. Again we launched, just before noon, and re-energized, we paddled with a consistent effort. Pretty soon we passed Little Todd Harbor and after a short discussion decided to push on with the favorable breeze. When we arrived at Todd Harbor an hour later we were greeted by a Bald Eagle. There are a handful of islands inside the 5 mile long harbor. We stopped for our second lunch. Fortunately, this one included thimbleberries and raspberries as there were fruiting plants on every trail we walked along. We talked about our plans and the so far steady progress we were making. This would have been a great camp, but, we still had energy to continue, thinking that Birch Island would make for the cap to a great, long day of paddling.

Once we got a ways off shore our senses were awakened by the heightening wind conditions. Now the breeze became more moderate, still square at our backs, but with a building trend. Once we got out to the small outside islands, but still in the protection of Todd Harbor, we saw the scene. Small whitecapping waves were going to dance behind us and make their sneaky presence felt upon our sterns. With a slight bit of unease, we came out of the comfortable lee of the islands and headed for Twelve O' Clock point. We were surfing. It was fun, but a little unnerving as the waves continued to build. Now we had 3 footers, and looking behind us we saw the open waters of Lake Superior. The wave train has cometh and getting around the point will be a challenge! Keeping the paddle in the water for an occasional brace and back paddle, our progress eastbound was remarkable. It was a beautiful progression of the moment. The Lake grew in size, haste and was becoming louder. We could see the point and assumed that all was more calm around it. But, these were new waters to us all and the sense of not really knowing what was on the other side added to our moment. A reactive brace into a chilly whitecap, keeping a good look around at the rest with a hoot and a holler. Life is good! And then we felt it die. The surface flattened out and we could hear each other. The day was leaving us and by now we were ready to get to camp. Birch Island is such a peaceful spot, protected from the chaos of the outside. We were so ready to get out and enjoy this setting when we saw a very large pleasure boat tied up to the dock. Oh! I guess we'll have to look for a backcountry site minutes before dark. Around the corner we found a tiny beach with potential. As night fell we customized our surroundings and enjoyed a warm meal and some belly warming booze. 28 miles of coastline to reflect upon, but we were too tired at this point and so we slept.

With the labor day weekend now behind us, we expected to see fewer powerboats and more availability at the popular campsites. Having been denied at Birch Island the night before we put it as one of our goals for today to get to a camp early. We were already paddling by 9:00 and heading for the sheltered waters of the Amygdaloid channel. Winds were light, but west, so we continued our rapid progress along the northern coast of the Isle. Today we would do a portage. We spotted one on the map that looked like fun. It was the shortest one that the Park Service maintains. The feel of the island changes dramatically once you get inside Robinson Bay. Sheltered waters so clear I was sure I'd see some fish swimming along under my kayak. A breeze was in the air but wasn't very noticeable on the surface of the glassy water we eased along top of. The sun was bright and reflecting everywhere. I sought out some shade in a little strip along the edge of the channel we progressed through. Over here by the leaning cedar trees it smelled of life. This is why we wanted to do a portage, to experience what we were missing while in our boats on the water. After a couple of hours we were pulling into Lane Cove and it's sheltered water feel. We saw some fellow paddlers, canoeists, relaxing in their protected cove with a small view to the outside. After a little search party, we sniffed out the trailhead to the portage. It was first lunchtime and we ate well. The walk was fortunately very short. 0.2 miles makes for the perfect amount for a kayak portage! Back on the water, plop, where the boat is made to be. With a dip and a glide and a smile wide.

Blake Point was the next significant geographic feature on our charts. This easternmost point on Isle Royale is very exposed and has changed the plans of many an expedition. Boats have been sunk and travel itineraries have been changed numerous times throughout history, at Blake Point. After our serene water experience in the morning and the portage, we really needed to wake up and so we heightened our senses as we approached. Funny thing was that the closer we got to the point, the more slightly we noticed a wind shift. It was in our face coming from the east and the direction of Passage Island 5 miles out. It was impeccable timing for a change. We had just rode the west wind for close to 50 miles and here we were about to turn the corner and have it at our backs again? Was this really happening? I kept recalling past trips I've had with less than ideal wind direction, then I pinched myself as I came to the present. Around the point we went with the waves hardly stirring and sure enough with our course now set at SW, the light breeze eased over our left shoulder. The three of us looked at each other and kind of smiled, as if we were getting away with something. Soon we were rounding Scoville point into the next harbor.

Here, at Rock Harbor, are the main facilities of the Island and historically it has acted as the most protected spot for people to gather. Upon our arrival, we looked at our watches and realized that we were two days early. I had some errands to run here, so I precariously got out at the dock. Over the course of the next ten minutes I woke the ferry boat captain and changed our pick up location from here at Rock Harbor to back at Windigo, filled up our water bags, got the ranger's latest weather report, and threw out our garbage. It all couldn't have been any easier and the weather report was great. More sunny skies and warm temperatures with wind out of the east/ south east. So we headed for Tookers Island, a short distance out from Rock Harbor. We did a little bob and weave around small islands and had a look back at the boats in the harbor. Onward we paddled, and a short half hour away we spotted a large boat on the island. Feeling denied again, we realized that it may be another backcountry night on Isle Royale. The barrier islands out here on the southern edge made for a fun place paddle. Mott and Caribou islands were calm on the North side and slightly choppy on the outside, South side. We continued to bob and weave as the afternoon changed to evening. Out last chance for a National Park campsite was at Little Caribou island and we all predicted that it would be taken. Sure enough a Red Monster from Canada was idling in it's slip along the dock. Onward! Across the Middle Islands Channel and into Tonkin Bay and it's protected waters. It was calm and there was a decent enough landing for us to make another custom yet simple camp. Another long day on the water took us close to 30 miles and we were ready to change into more comfortable camp clothes. We enjoyed our supper with the typically beautiful sunset colors in the sky. The setting was only improved when a deep orange moon began to rise. This waning gibbous rose at the perfect angle so as to reflect it's beams all the way along the calm water right to our camp. What a way to cap the day.

Up early again and we all had some sore spots from all of the boat time. Tired muscles and salty sunburn started to blend with stinky neoprene. Our trip was really beginning to hit stride! As we paddled out of Tonkin Bay near the Rock Island Lighthouse the calm water allowed my mind to wander. That lovely lighthouse served a purpose when the copper industry was booming on the island. Only to be neglected after the demand of the precious metal dipped. Now it stands as a non-functinal remembrance of times past. It's not necessary for any modern navigation needs and so it sits, casting a shadow. Back on glassy waters the three of us take a look into Conglomerate Bay and it's mile deep cut, more backwaters to explore. But for us we'd have to do it on another trip, as we were making steady progress around Isle Royale.

Although we didn't talk much about the circumnavigation possibility, it was becoming our reality. A couple more long days and we were there. Our daily routine supported such a journey. With 2 ½ to 3 hours at a time in the boats we would stop twice for hour long lunches. That's right double the lunchtime. This gave us the calories we really needed, and it broke up our day into three long sections in the kayaks. Today's section from Tonkin Bay took us out around Saginaw point, the way many large boats come and go from Rock Harbor. Once beyond there we were attracted to Blueberry Cove, both it's location and tantalizing name kept our pace ticking towards it's tranquility. We were greeted by a small flock of ducks who were darting around, playing in the subtle currents. After skipping some rocks and eating our fill we decided to go for a short hike from the cove and maybe collect some berries. We found an impressive moose antler and many piles of moose scat all around the interior. It felt good to stretch our legs here. Our walk took us through some dense forest, taking inventory of the abundant mushrooms. We found what had to be a moose's den. It was tucked in at the base of a rocky crag and there was a protected hollow with some soft moss and soil. Fortunately for us, we didn't wake them up from a morning nap! Back at the cove, we did a little hygiene in the chilly water. We stretched a touch more and re-assumed our position in the cockpit of our respective craft. The hours were cruising along with the shoreline. Malone Bay, Wright Island, another lunch, and in the evening we were rewarded with a great campsite at Hay Bay. Another well protected spot on the north side of the skinny Hay Peninsula, this time there wasn't a pleasure boater in the slip. We had actually made it to camp with an hour of daylight left to enjoy! I made calzones to celebrate. Careful, don't burn the roof of your mouth off! Tsssss... We ate well and the stars came out with some meteors darting across the sky. I held my eyelids open with my fingers and was rewarded with a shooting star.

Our fifth day getting into the kayaks started with calm water again. This was good because we had a significant crossing to tackle, Siskiwit Bay. This large bay is known to have great fishing as it carves a huge east facing arc to Point Houghton. We were hoping to cross the 3 plus miles from Point Hay, instead of staying close to shore 11 miles. Once we began to cross I could feel the wind begin to wake up. By the time we were half way across the wind had built to 10 knots out of the SW. This didn't hinder our progress too much, but it was a chilly morning so after making it across to Point Houghton, I re-grouped. I put on my heavier top and a warm hat because once around the point we were sure to be facing a headwind that was only building in stature. We agreed to stay closer to each other for this next section and around we paddled. For the first time we had a steady wind in our face. By now it had reached 13 knots and there were whitecaps around us. I headed out beyond the pesky inside shoals and breaking waves. It was a manageable breeze, but I was curious about the forecast. On came the marine radio and the computerized voice of some cyber lady. She had the latest information and it proved again to be in our favor. There was a large storm brewing on mainland Minnesota and it was heading to Wisconsin, south of us. We were to catch some of the resulting winds and maybe a chance of thunderstorm in the evening. So all we needed to do was paddle hard into this headwind. It sure was making for some fun as our boats climbed up the face of one wave and “smack”, the bow dropped back down to the dense fresh water. When paddling into a headwind, the best thing to do is to keep going, don't stop. You're on a treadmill and steady progress is a must. We rarely rested and really earned our first lunch today at Atwood Beach.

This red sandy beach extends for a mile along the exposed southern shore of Isle Royale. Nary a rock to challenge our landing here, we thought of surfing but needed to stretch first. The platy sandstone rocks here were calling our names out for a little exploring. We poked along the rocky point there while savoring some chocolate and considered ourselves lucky despite a headwind. In reality it was a good wind, as it made us feel more alive in the kayaks. This was to be our last big day of paddling, so we had to earn it, that was fine with us. So as we continued and the wind settled down we made it to Discovery Bay. Here we picked some raspberries for tomorrows final morning pancakes. Later that evening we made it to Grace Island while the thunder cracked miles away from us to the south west. It always feels good to get to shore when mighty Thor is out making his presence felt. We were a haggared trio, but proud to look at the chart and realize that we were a mere few miles from Windigo, where we started five days previous.

That night I was sleeping out on the dock under partly cloudy skies. I got to see the orange moon rise and I gazed into it's beauty as long as I could, until I fell asleep again. It felt so good to be living along with nature's cycle again, in rhythm. A transforming trip back to the real world for me. I awoke again to a startling noise, something was in the water next to me. I slowly came to my senses to realize that an enormous bull moose had just swam across from the main island a mile away to our little Grace Island campsite. Wow, this guy was huge and he tromped around our camp vibrating the earth with every step. He must have been looking for Grace, but she was not here tonight, so after 45 raucous minutes of touring the island, he swam back across. I listened to him snort and breathe the entire way back. It was so still and magical.

On our last morning we all shared our version of the moose story and remarked on how lucky we really were to have experienced this. We polished our story and when back at Windigo shared it with anyone who cared to listen. It was fun to share stories with other backcountry travelers fresh off the trail. We all had a great bit of fall weather to enjoy America's least visited National Park. Nobody saw a wolf, a couple of folks saw a moose but everyone saw themselves in a one of a kind place. Paddling around this, the largest island in the lower 48 states, made for a physical challenge in the confines of stunning beauty. I had a few moments on this trip that I will hold onto, a view, and interaction, a conversation. These will buy me some time back in the crazy hustle bustle world, until I get back to another example of nature's rhythmical sanctuary.