Recreational math

I was just getting home from performing the joyous task of bringing home the new baby. Figuratively speaking. It’s a kayak, which is almost as good as the real thing.

I made the final turn onto my street and was giddy with the anticipation of commencing the fiddling around with the new toy. And then, the buzz kill. Ned popped his head out the door of the travel trailer he was cleaning in his driveway. I didn’t have to check the rearview mirror to know he was trotting down the road after me.

“New boat?” Ned doesn’t know much about kayaks. However, when he senses someone doesn’t want anything to do with him (most people in the neighborhood), he affixes his nose firmly into every aspect of your life.

“Yes, Ned, a new boat.”

“How much did it cost?” I told him. “And, it only has one seat?”

Ah, the powers of observation. “Yes, one seat.”

“Well, if you multiplied the cost times the number of seats in a minivan, you could’ve had the van. And this doesn’t even have an engine.”

“But, I couldn’t lift the van up onto my racks.”

“You wouldn’t have to. You could drive it. See my point?”

“What I don’t see is why my choices are of any concern of yours.”

“Just saying.” There’s your sign.

Recreational purchases often don’t make economic sense. But, they can yield a substantial return on quality of life. If you worry about the numbers, don’t spend the money. Otherwise, life is a big canvas. Throw all the paint on it you can.

I looked toward his driveway. There sat his Brobdingnagian travel trailer and the proportional truck required to tow it and his brood the three or four times a year they use it. “You have, I’m guessing, at least $80,000 tied up in that rig. Straight-line the depreciation and add in insurance, license and cost of money, it drains you about $10,500 a year if it just sits there, not to mention you lose use of half your driveway and are in violation of the neighborhood regulations. Drive it and you rack up an incremental cost of about $900 per trip in fuel, plus another few hundred in camping fees. And then you have to drive the behemoth and now you’re spending your day cleaning it out. I’d just throw the kids in a minivan and take them to Disneyworld.”

“But, I like trailering.”

“That’s my point.”

“Why don’t you mind your own business?”

I thought I had been.

Chains of events

In one of Len Deighton’s earlier books, he observes that the southeastern terrain of the United States, that lends itself to military training, accounts for soldiers from all over the country taking southern wives. In my college orientation, one of the predictions proffered to us was that many of us would find out mates over the next four years. It struck me that, by selecting a college, I had also unintentionally plotted my life course in other ways, which turned out to be the case.

I find it interesting that many decisions have a chain reaction effect that shape our entire lives, especially as they almost randomly intersect with those of others. It can be which job we take, church we attend, neighborhood we reside in or whatever. The ramifications are far-reaching and may extend beyond what we anticipated at the time.

I was reminded of this last night at a pool party. Well, a pool party kayaker style. We bring our toys with us. Carolyn made reference to a kayaking couple, labeling them as the class after her. She had already referred to me as being in the class before.

It hadn’t dawned on me until then, but I got her point. Decades before, we had all gone through paddling courses offered by a club, and then became immersed in their paddling outings to various degrees. Hence, Carolyn’s reference to which class we were members of. However we made our decisions to enter that portal, many of us were making life decisions, aware of it or not.

Perhaps the reason I didn’t share her perspective was that I was married with young children at the time, and was not as involved as many of them. Carolyn and a lot of the others were younger and single.

As she spoke last night, I recalled the many weekends they spent away together in their shared avocation and how that resulted in a lot of marriages, including hers. So, by simply signing up for a weekend paddling course, she and the others set into motion a chain of events that led to where they are now with children, residences, etc.

Think of that today, as you decide where to shop, eat or take your walk. You may be altering the course of your life.

Here's to Hup

Three days until Paddlefest and I’m about as revved up as I can be without blowing a gasket. It’s the culmination of year of work and an opportunity for us to enjoy the fruits of that labor. As it winds down, there’s that elation of accomplishment, knowing we pulled it off and it was bigger and better than the previous year.

But, this time, I’m thinking of Hup, who died late last year at the age of 89. He wasn’t a paddler, just someone I looked out for.

Over the past few years, I sadly watched his decline. But, there was always one thing that ramped him up. His annual reunion of Pearl Harbor survivors. People he’d shared something special with and had known for decades. He relished that event.

The dots are connecting this year and I see that in Paddlefest. I really look forward to uniting with a multitude of good friends who I’ve known for decades and shared a lot of fun times with. There will be a great deal of reminiscing about that, which pretty much makes all the work worthwhile.

And, I’ll drink a silent toast to Hup for helping appreciate this even more.

The high cost of education

When I set up the aforementioned sea kayak training and posted it on our club’s event board, there were the usual questions about the cost. I hesitated to answer.

I knew the price of lessons and lodging, and could estimate the gratuity, but do I footnote the potential hidden cost? Or, is that universal and understood?

As example, some time ago, I attended a seminar on road riding (long distance bicycle). I already had a bike that I had been using for a couple years. However, with what I learned in the course, it seemed inadequate for getting the most out of my enhanced skills. I’d have to take it up a notch with frame and equipment.

My children were both musicians. As they progressed to higher levels, it became incumbent upon us to upgrade the instruments commensurately. The cost of lessons was being eclipsed by that of equipment.

I think that’s the norm and everybody knows that. A friend of mine is a gourmet cook and had all the bells and whistles required to turn out a drop-dead feast. And yet, after taking a few days to study under a renowned chef, she came back and ordered an expensive new stove, pots and pans, and other implements.

It is necessary to distinguish here between the enthusiast who develops skills and acquires equipment to leverage those advanced abilities, and the one who fails to build proficiency and buys more sophisticated gear, thinking that’s an easy way to improve results. That’s often a fool’s errand because that gear is designed to deliver for a higher level of competence and punishes those at a lower level.

Going into an advanced sea kayaking course, I thought it was safe to assume that participants would be aware of the possibility of the outcome. I joked with some about that, warning that the instructor was also an equipment dealer, so bring your checkbook. I already had a good touring boat, capable of hauling a good deal of gear for multiweek trips. And, a top-of-the-line speedster. So I was, of course, immune. Of course.

Glad I didn’t take the checkbook. By the end of the first day, I had the fever for a kayak that could really surf and play the rough stuff, leveraging my augmented skill set. It wasn’t that I didn’t have a checkbook with me that spared me. Credit cards are welcome. But, the instructor was one of those people who is in the field for the love of the sport and didn’t have much of a business or sales mentality. When I inquired about a particular model, he simply said that he didn’t have one in stock and let it go at that.

The kayak is just one aspect. When you take lessons or tour with an outfitter, you become aware of the equipment they use. You notice their gear (paddles, tow bags, wet gear, etc.) and their facile use of it makes it appear superior to yours. Plus, there’s the implied endorsement of a pro who relies on the equipment every day. Again, we were spared by the provider’s disinterest in selling.

Or, were we? We did get out of town without our plastic seeing the light of day. But, as we banter about practicing to apply the new skills, I detect the seed of desire to do some shopping.

That will be the real cost of the course. But, money well spent.

Ordinary people

Through positions I’ve held in businesses and other organizations, I’ve met and worked with prominent people in sports, entertainment, government and other walks of life. Perhaps that’s why I don’t get all aquiver when I meet the latest and greatest quarterback or governor. They're just people.

But, yesterday, I paddled kayak escort for Mimi Hughes, a woman who’s swimming the length of the Ohio River. This isn’t her first feat. She swam the length of the Tennessee River and also across the Bering Sea, from Alaska to Russia, among other things.

What strikes me most about her is that she doesn’t appear to be someone gifted with attributes at the high end of the bell curve. She just seems like an “ordinary person” who took control of her life, decided what she wanted to do and did what she had to do to accomplish things others would consider outside of the realm of possibilities.

Now that impresses me. And, gives hope to all the rest of us ordinary people.

Hanlon's Razor

I’ve been familiar with Occam’s Razor for some time ("Entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity"). Last night, we were discussing group dynamics and someone tossed out Hanlon’s Razor. I wasn’t familiar with it and looked it up (“Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity”). It’s common to attribute recurrent malevolence to some kind of mental defect, but there’s probably some truth to this.

The ties that bind

The crucible of trying situations can create a bond that is a treasure and can endure. High school teams, religious rites, fraternity rituals, and time in the service can do that even if, in retrospect, we grasp that we were spoon-fed a rich dose of rhetoric in our feckless youth designed to program us to submit without question. Even those who later discern the process still share an affinity with their fellow subjects of the indoctrination.

Later in life, we enter challenging situations on our own free will with eyes wide open. Because of that, the ensuing relationships can be even richer. Such was the training session I participated in over the past couple days.

It was a training exercise in advanced sea kayaking conducted on Lake Erie, which would provide the proper stage for a trying regimen. The eight of us had paddled kayaks for years, but it would be more than a stretch to classify any of us as advanced in skills or ability. The average age was north of fifty.

We camped together the night before. I know these guys and could tell something weighed upon them. Cold water, high winds and waves, and self-doubt. I’m sure there was some element of projection, as I had my own concerns.

But, once we had leapt into the fire, self-concern evaporated. We all encouraged and applauded each other, keeping a sharp eye out for anyone who showed any sign of fear or fatigue. It was two long and exhausting days of testing our ability and waning stamina, but the bond grew in strength and buoyed the group.

In the end, there was a profound sense of accomplishment; accomplishment as individuals, but also as a unit. Some relationships existed going in, in varying degrees of intensity. But, coming out, there was something much more.

We are all changed and enriched for the better. And, it has little to do with the enhanced abilities. This was something that will always be important to us. And, we are all grateful for the gift.