02/01/2025 ICW Day 32 : Anchored in the Moment
We have been on the water for a month now, and I am grateful for how we have grown and changed.
Because Janet and I have done so many bike trips, we have practically become “experts.” This applies to every aspect of bicycle touring, but let’s use campsite selection as an example: We know how to select a good campsite to the Nth degree - taking into account every aspect of our surroundings: Is there a limb overhead that might fall? How well does the soil drain, and is there a slope? Which way is the wind blowing? Are there nearby sprinklers that might come in at night? Is there evidence of critters, and if so, which food protection strategy do we need to use? Can you smell water nearby? Where will the sun rise in the morning? All of this comes so naturally now, that we can glance at a spot quickly and assess it’s worth as a place to spend one night. We practically do all of this analysis subconsciously. We don’t always get it right, but we regularly do a lot better than we used to.
The same applies to other elements of touring: bike repair, route planning, route timing, grocery store selection, how to pack stuff, battery charging, water acquisition, etc. a lot has become “instinctual”. The good of that is that we have more good times than ever thanks to our planning. The bad is that it isn’t quite so novel or mentally stimulating.
While there is some overlap with bike touring when you’re traveling on a sailing kayak, there are a lot of new elements at play. We have learned a lot, but even after a month, we are still making adjustments to how we do things and changing our routines slightly each day. It’s a way of finding out what works and what doesn’t.
I love the feeling of “optimization”. For example, it makes me feel really happy to be charging all of our devices “in parallel” and while Janet manages the charging, I ride the bike to grab groceries. It’s like we are making the best of our limited presence on this earth to spend as little time doing the rote stuff… leaving time to do the stuff we want to be doing - like sailing, reading to each other, basking in the sun, eating a take-out lunch together, or sharing a Michelob Ultra inside the tent.
To the same degree that I get happy from optimization, I get saddened by waste. An example of waste is trying to sail upwind, upcurrent in a channel that is barely wide enough to tack with boat wakes coming every few minutes. But here is the deal: It doesn’t HAVE to be that way…
And so we stopped, took a break, and worked with (instead of against) the rhythms of nature. We sat down and ordered cheeseburgers from a BBq joint and sat and waited out the current shift. When we got back on the water, instead of fighting it, we were getting a heavenly lift.
We still learn each day, but we get better at parking the boat, packing our stuff, keeping things dry (and acquiescing to sodden clothes instead of fighting it when the dew point is 70F).
And we are still far from perfect. For example, today we went to launch the boat. As we both heaved and ho’d- dragging the boat DOWN to the water, I said to Janet:
“gee.. I think that all of this dragging has not only increased our boat’s friction in the water (from micro scratches), but also in the sand. We can’t even get this downhill!”
Eventually, the boat wouldn’t budge!
Finally I realized: I had tied the boat to the tent last night as a security measure to prevent it from drifting away. We had uprooted the tent, its stakes, and dragged it a few feet until it was caught, taut, on some roots and branches. DOH!!
Still learning, sometimes good, but yeah, not always!
Because Janet and I have done so many bike trips, we have practically become “experts.” This applies to every aspect of bicycle touring, but let’s use campsite selection as an example: We know how to select a good campsite to the Nth degree - taking into account every aspect of our surroundings: Is there a limb overhead that might fall? How well does the soil drain, and is there a slope? Which way is the wind blowing? Are there nearby sprinklers that might come in at night? Is there evidence of critters, and if so, which food protection strategy do we need to use? Can you smell water nearby? Where will the sun rise in the morning? All of this comes so naturally now, that we can glance at a spot quickly and assess it’s worth as a place to spend one night. We practically do all of this analysis subconsciously. We don’t always get it right, but we regularly do a lot better than we used to.
The same applies to other elements of touring: bike repair, route planning, route timing, grocery store selection, how to pack stuff, battery charging, water acquisition, etc. a lot has become “instinctual”. The good of that is that we have more good times than ever thanks to our planning. The bad is that it isn’t quite so novel or mentally stimulating.
While there is some overlap with bike touring when you’re traveling on a sailing kayak, there are a lot of new elements at play. We have learned a lot, but even after a month, we are still making adjustments to how we do things and changing our routines slightly each day. It’s a way of finding out what works and what doesn’t.
I love the feeling of “optimization”. For example, it makes me feel really happy to be charging all of our devices “in parallel” and while Janet manages the charging, I ride the bike to grab groceries. It’s like we are making the best of our limited presence on this earth to spend as little time doing the rote stuff… leaving time to do the stuff we want to be doing - like sailing, reading to each other, basking in the sun, eating a take-out lunch together, or sharing a Michelob Ultra inside the tent.
To the same degree that I get happy from optimization, I get saddened by waste. An example of waste is trying to sail upwind, upcurrent in a channel that is barely wide enough to tack with boat wakes coming every few minutes. But here is the deal: It doesn’t HAVE to be that way…
And so we stopped, took a break, and worked with (instead of against) the rhythms of nature. We sat down and ordered cheeseburgers from a BBq joint and sat and waited out the current shift. When we got back on the water, instead of fighting it, we were getting a heavenly lift.
We still learn each day, but we get better at parking the boat, packing our stuff, keeping things dry (and acquiescing to sodden clothes instead of fighting it when the dew point is 70F).
And we are still far from perfect. For example, today we went to launch the boat. As we both heaved and ho’d- dragging the boat DOWN to the water, I said to Janet:
“gee.. I think that all of this dragging has not only increased our boat’s friction in the water (from micro scratches), but also in the sand. We can’t even get this downhill!”
Eventually, the boat wouldn’t budge!
Finally I realized: I had tied the boat to the tent last night as a security measure to prevent it from drifting away. We had uprooted the tent, its stakes, and dragged it a few feet until it was caught, taut, on some roots and branches. DOH!!
Still learning, sometimes good, but yeah, not always!
Photos:

We decided to anchor ourselves in the moment and enjoy a nice lunch stop while the tide became more friendly.

Ok, how is this for irony. Rain fell on the tent from 4am to 5:30 AM. In spite of that, today was the ONLY day I can remember that we took down a dry tent! How does that happen? Dew point! It was slightly warmer today, and the temperature exceeded the dew point, meaning that the rain drops could dry. On other days, the dew point has been higher than the ambient temperature, meaning that whatever you have, wherever it is packed, if the surface temperature is less than the dew point, it gets wet through condensation.

Camp for tonight!

Time to split a Michelob Ultra. Hey, Beer Snobs: It’s better than it sounds!

My bike ride to the store today was all on a separated bike path along this waterway.

We have a 4.5 foot tidal fluctuation here tonight. That is somewhat significant. We now manage to get the boat plus SUPs up on the cart and roll it up the beach. The boat is 240 pounds, and the SUPs together are 38 pounds. Plus there is still a lot of weight on the boat. We have developed a system of using a nylon strap and working together, we get the end of the boat onto the cart. Then one person pulls the strap while the other floats the boat in order to position the cart in the middle with as little brawn as possible. Then we work together to elevate the monstrosity at least a foot over the predicted high tide.

It turns out that the full moon and new moon are our nemeses (the plural of nemesis). But much like changes imposed by politicians that you didn’t vote for, it seems that you can just adjust your strategy to work with them instead of fighting against them.
Strava Comments:
Janti of the J.
Love the learning
Janet W.
No matter how many bike, and now boat, trips we do together, there is never a dull moment. You’re right, we learn, and have more fun, everyday! Thanks for being by sweet travel buddy!
Mark G.
Brian Lucido great post. The tidal fluctuations regarding shoreline and flow rates in constricted areas is a challenge I can relate to... only had tide charts and flow predictions back in the day but they were amazingly accurate for the whole year...as you bought the year's charts. I sorta turned into a fresh water traveler, but your photos and island hopping got me some fomo. The 25oz MU looks super yummy too
Paula G.
I didn't know so much math was required for sailing. I'll bet you can appreciate Christopher Columbus more now.
Ride Stats:
Elapsed Time | Moving Time | Distance | Average Speed | Max Speed | Elevation Gain | Calories Burned |
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
08:35:18
hours
|
05:32:20
hours
|
30.41
km
|
5.49
km/h
|
10.59
km/h
|
95.00
meters
|
967
kcal
|