Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Write for the HUMOR Genre (10/09/14)
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TITLE: Paradise Beach | Previous Challenge Entry
By Deborah Collins
10/16/14 -
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Sun tanned skin, chapped lips, and windblown hair are signs of exposure to the elements of nature. We had become outdoor junkies over the summer spending weekends paddling our kayaks on a pristine mountain lake. Summer was coming to a close, so we decided to drive to the ocean where the water was still warm.
Our destination was the intercostal waterway south of Wrightsville Beach where a friend lived. Her home was just across the waterway from a barrier island accessible only by boat. We had made the plan to take the paddle in hand and get away from the world for the weekend.
Being a detailed planner, I checked the tide times and the weather report. I was determined to make this trip successful. This type of adventure would normally be concise because kayaks do not hold much cargo. That is unless one owns a luxury size, sit on top kayak for larger rumps like mine. I had room to carry everything to make our trip much more than frugal.
High tide came at sunrise and we were packed. We paddled directly east with good visibility of the island across the busy waterway. We did not realize that huge fishing boats moved with such speed on the open water.
“Dig in harder!” my Hubby shouted. ”Put some muscle in those strokes!”
He didn’t have a load of wood and a cooler full of food in his kayak. I needed no more encouragement after I sighted a luxury yacht bearing down in my direction. I dug in like Gilligan paddling his row boat in high speed to tow a live bomb out to sea. We crossed the waterway to the tall sea grass field where we began to search for a place to go ashore.
The search lasted for what seemed to be hours as we paddled into one dead end channel after another through a maze of pathways finding no lead to a beach.
Hubby said “Stand up, maybe you can see over the grass.”
My kayak was already bottoming out in the swamp as we had been pulling ourselves through it by handfuls of sea grass. I stood up and my feet sank deeply into the goop and I felt the oozing slime cover my feet. I heard a creature jump from the water.
“Eeeewww!” I screeched like a little school girl, struggling to pull my feet out of the thick mud. “Bad idea, let’s keep going before the tide goes out.”
Moving out into the open water again we met another paddler.
“Take a left at the third crab pot” he said.
Our prayer was answered. A beach was found, our peaceful abode was established, and all was perfect until the wind came.
Even though I had reviewed the weather forecast, I did not consider the speed of a system moving in from the south. The relentless wind battered our tent staked in the loose sand.
While Hubby dragged a kayak closer to anchor the tent,I began dinner on our camp stove. This paddling gourmet chef had forgotten nothing for dining alfresco. Fresh salmon and veggies were prepared with a crunchy coating of windblown sand. Our stomachs were filled. We were thankful.
Another prayer for the wind to stop was answered during the night. I thought sleeping under the stars and listening to the surf was paradise. We were in a peaceful sleep until I began to itch. Then Hubby started scratching. Vermin were chewing on us and out of the tent we came.
“SAND FLEAS!!!” We yelped.
The rest of the night was spent scratching ourselves by the campfire, waiting for the sun to come up and the rise of the tide. By morning we both appeared to have chicken pox from hundreds of bug bites that covered our bodies.
The paddle back was lighter but not easier. Dark clouds were gathering in the south. The windblown rain and surf were intensifying. We furiously paddled north in hopes of being blown east toward our base as a parade of ships crossing the waterway seemed to be destined to crash into us.
Safely back on the mainland, we were exhausted, bug bitten, covered with salt,sand and stinky mud. We realized how much God had protected two old fools when the car radio warned of high seas and coastal flooding. Then Hubby opened the glove box and said,
“Ahhh! There’s the cell phone we forgot.”
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