Pedal Kayak

This is not your mama's kayak.  It's not my kayak, either: our friend Lisa let us borrow hers while she was out of town.  Trish owns 2 kayaks, but seldom uses her older, paddle type now that she has the pedal-driven model.  I wanted to test drive the pedal type; thanks for the loan of it, Lisa.

The pedal/fin mechanism slips through the oval hole in the hull, and extends 1' into the water.  As you pedal, the fins move in a scissor-like fashion, propelling the kayak.  These are made by Hobie and are well designed.  Trish and several of our friends bought these in the last 2-3 years.

The fleet.  Inflatable models front and rear.  Hard shell models in the middle.  There are other models, too, including one designed for fishing that has all kinds of bells and whistles.  Friends David and Elaine joined us for a couple of outings; they have the inflatables.

Preparing to launch, Castle Rock in background.

The kayaks have their own wheels, very handy.

The view from the bridge.

Awesome pair of legs, huh?

Lisa, David and Trish pedaling northward from Castle Rock on Lake Havasu.  

Great horned owls, swallows and other birds nest in the rocks.

Emerging from a short, narrow tunnel that's only navigable when the Lake is high, as it is now.  It's still a tight fit, barely wider than the kayak, takes some maneuvering - but no big deal really.

David and I, north of Castle Rock.  The paddles are rarely used but are helpful if you get hung up or need to push yourself away from an obstacle.  The wheels go along for the ride.

Water,Water, Everywhere!

It was a hot July afternoon in 1954 at our farm in northern Minnesota.  Dad was in town, Mom was taking a nap and our other siblings were nowhere in sight.

We had a well that supplied water to the house, a holding tank in the barn, and a rectangular concrete stock tank.  The tank was large, 8' x 12', and 30" deep, held about 1400 gallons.  When the milk cows were brought in from the pasture each afternoon, they'd beeline it to that tank and drink their fill, leaving about 6" of water in the tank.  We had to make sure the tank was full before the cows came home.

Truthfully, I don't recall.  But, if placed on the witness stand I would have sworn on a stack of bibles, that: he started it.  Yep, the classic, time-tested, I'm-pure-as-the-driven-snow, testimony when a pair of siblings get into trouble.  As it turned out, it was a moot point.

I was 9, Gerry 3 years older.  Did I mention that he started it?  Yeah, okay.  We were standing beside the tank and when I looked away, Gerry cupped his hand, reached down into the tank and splashed cold water at me.  I quickly returned the favor and the conflict escalated rapidly from there.

Fast forward an hour.  The tank is nearly empty.  The entire yard looks like a heavy downpour had just passed through.  Gerry and I, both soaked to the skin, both armed with full pails of water and huge grins, are circling each other like prizefighters maneuvering for a good knockout punch.

And then, disaster struck: Dad pulled into the yard in his pickup.  Gerry and I beat a hasty retreat to the tank, dumped the buckets and tried to look penitent.  Didn't even bother with the innocent look, the evidence of our misdeeds, the water soaked yard, being all too obvious.  To no avail: we both got whacked, no opportunity whatsoever to declare 'he started it.'  Bummer!

Later, Dad recalled the incident with good humor and greatly enjoyed telling the story, said he saw water flying above the garage roof when he turned into the driveway, a quarter mile away.  He may have been exaggerating just a little.  Anyway, that water fight is one of my fondest childhood memories.  Damn, that was great fun!

Thermocline

People who know about thermoclines include submariners, serious fishermen* and readers of contemporary naval combat novels.  I fall into the latter category.

I'm fascinated by novels and movies about submarines and the deadly, 3-dimensional game of hide n seek they play.  Thermoclines play a large role in those games because they mess up the sonar used to locate and track other vessels.

The wavy dotted line is the thermocline.  

Radiated noise bounces when it hits the thermocline, and can only pass through

 it if at or near a 90 degree angle.  So, the destroyer can't get a fix on the sub unless the two are directly above/below each other.

Thermocline definition: a thin but distinct layer in a large body of fluid (e.g. water, such as an ocean or lake, or air, such as an atmosphere) in which temperature changes more rapidly with depth than it does in the layers above or below.  At sea, the thermocline is typically about 300 feet below the surface, warmer water above, cooler water below.  It's much higher in freshwater lakes that are 30+ feet deep.

Serious fishermen know about them because fish like to hang out in waters of a certain temperature, and those temps are typically above the thermocline.  They - the fishermen, not the fish - use depth finders to locate the transition layer.

*For several years I was a not-so-serious fisherman.  Perfect weather, chores all done, hook up the boat, tow it down to the marina, launch, motor out to where the fish are rumored to be, drop anchor, hook some bizarre-looking piece of hardware onto my line, open a beer, fire up a cigar, sit back and enjoy life.  Then, 2-3 hours later, head back to the barn, stop at Safeway and buy fish - if I really wanted fish for dinner.

Had I known about thermoclines, I may have actually caught a few fish.  Or not.  In retrospect, I was more of a boater than a fisher, just enjoyed being out on the water.