Kayaking Down the River Glass

Kayaking is one of my favorite things I usually don't get to do, so on the rare occasion that the opportunity presents itself, I am of a mind to take gross advantage.  Now I am not a daredevil kayaker.  I do not shoot rapids or launch myself off of cliffs.  My style of kayaking requires no protective headgear.  All I want is a nice day, a kayak and a paddle, and a quiet stretch of water. Peace.  Like a river.

The River Glass runs right at the bottom of the valley out my cabin window and meanders in both directions for a few miles, then joins other things.  I took my kayak on a paddle up river from the Struy Inn (in Struy!) and paddled against the river current and the wind until I reached sight of my cabin and then allowed the wind to blow me back to the landing.  All the way up the river there was a white swan swimming ahead of me, just a speck in the distance, but it kept pace with me.

The wind was gusty and at times was downright fierce.  I paddled like a mad woman, but didn't get anywhere, but had to keep up the effort or get blown back downstream.  Then there were quiet, gentle spots where I cut through the river like glass, paddling with little effort.  At one turn in the river, a herd of cows stood up and stared at me, but for all my efforts I could not get them to moo at me.

Once my arms were reduced to useless noodles and my thumbs were hopelessly blistered, I decided to turn back.  The return journey was all the more enjoyable as I was floating with the current and the wind was at my back.  All in all, I paddled for two hours and I would guess I went two miles, gaging by the road that follows the river.

Every time I stopped to snap a photo, the wind would turn the kayak around and blow me into the river bank.