All Politics and no Paddling...
One day while I was paddling on the Rivanna River, I looked between my knees in the kayak at the load of garbage I had collected from the water. After a quick glance at the banks I realized my kayak was not big enough for collecting the amount of trash that had accumulated in my beloved river and have any kind of effect on the situation. At that moment I started brainstorming ways to fix this garbage uprise.
While drifting with the current with a soft breeze on my face and the stench of spent 40s in my boat, an idea slowly formed in the hazy area I call my mind. The words "Public Awareness" popped into my head, unexpectedly. So I continued brainstorming on ways to make the public aware of the rivers plight. The first thing that came to my mind was advertisements in the newspaper. Every time I went kayaking I would take pictures of the garbage I had collected during the day. My idea was to post these images in a newspaper ad with a quirky sentence or two to try to make people take an interest in the river. I researched advertising costs and realized this approach was not in my budget.
Mrs. Yak and I had been watching this video blogger called "Ze Frank." His blog was extremely successful and received loads of attention. I thought I could do the same, but little did I know how hard it is to get on the first page of a Google search with just the words, "Charlottesville," "Rivanna River," and "kayak." Ze Frank also has video, which is pretty cool and cuts out misspelled words and typos by about 100% or so.
I don't have the money to waste on advertisements, nor do I have a voice for radio or a face for television, thereby decreasing the odds of a successful video blog by 80%, if my math is correct. So, here I sit at a keyboard on a free blog service I found by accident. Almost like fate or karma, or like, it was meant to be. It was such a spiritual moment for me when I stumbled across blogger.
Next thing I had to do was create a name for the blog. I wanted something catchy, easy to remember, and pertinent to the material. Believe it or not, I made up the word Riveryak. I don't know why I spelled it River Yak when I set up the blog, but the proper spelling is Riveryak, or RiverYak for added spunk. One word. The word itself is an animal I made up one day while paddling and pretending to be on assignment for "National Geographic." I was on the hunt for the elusive riveryak, a species of Yak that is found near, um...rivers.
So I had my mission-write a blog about the ailing Rivanna River and any other paddling trips I take. I had a fitting title-www.Riveryak.blogspot.com, I even wrote it on the side of my kayak in 2" block letters. The blog would be updated weekly, except when I was excited and updated it two or three times a day, or bored with it and didn't update it for half a year. And sometimes I get off topic, such as the last post that I didn't even title.
I was talking to someone at work the other day about the blog. He said he enjoys reading it, but it's not "a life altering event." (People hate talking to me because they know it might get blogged.) I was shocked for a split second and my feelings were badly scorched until I realized I never meant for this to be "life altering." I am not a political journalist, hell I'm not even a journalist. I'm a paddler that gets off topic every once in a while and needs the threat of losing one of the five readers I have. I love kayaking and I'm passionately patriotic, but oil and water don't mix.
This is a paddling blog, with a lot of conservation being preached. I feel that political blogs are fruitless since nobody is going to get along over current issues anyway. I must never allow myself to be distracted and turn attention away from paddling and towards Washington. Although, it will happen again. As a matter of fact, I have an unpublished post about my thoughts and feelings on exploring new places to drill for oil. Whenever I finish checking the facts it will be posted. You've been warned.
I appreciate my uncle's comments on the previous post. And my sister in laws, too. Uncle Pink told me in an email to publish more comments. I would if I got some! Evidently there are a few people that actually read my blog, but I never know it because nobody ever comments! Or they try to blow my cover with too much information.
As Uncle P said in his comment, he is a veteran of the U.S. Air Force. My other uncle was in the Navy (God have mercy on him, he didn't know any better), and I have a brother in law in the Air Force who is deploying soon, again. Uncle Pink was merciful in his comment. I was actually a little nervous to read it. I guess I forgot that we are family and he has tact. By the way, Uncle Pink, I would have published your comment even if you had done as I was expecting and ripped me a new one!
Fair winds and following seas...
5 comments:
I don't think your posts are ever too far off topic. It's important to remember that most of what we see in the world is interconnected. When we have a government that simply can not manage it's water resources, (preserving the integrity of its watershed, punishing polluters and encouraging responsible recreational use)it is obvious that we would also have a larger problem with the government not being able to manage its national environmental resources. And of course there are people who believe that the environment is untouchable, an aloof creation removed from the harm people can do. Of course one only has to look at arches pulled down in Moab or the decline of biodiversity to be proved wrong. But it is obvious that when one string is pulled the whole web moves. Economics, ecology, politics and foreign affairs are all related. "The Ecology of Commerce" is a book all about the connection between the economy and ecology. I would like to see a review of it posted here. I love you and think you are right on target. Fuck everyone else.
You can post this but only if you delete the last two lines or so, the mushy and mean stuff.
Kate
When you post more, you have more readership. That is how to reach more people. Also, get sitemeter and you can see exactly who's reading you and how often.
You guys really shoulda come out this weekend.The weather was perfect, we had tons of picnic food in the kayaks and canoes (including beer!).I paddled 9 miles in under 2.25 hours and had to wait forty minutes at the pull-out for the rest of our posse. Not that it's a race or anything but it's fascinating how well more strength translates to other "sports", which is cool.
We had a such a great time on the James, up near Buchanan. And I didn't see a lick of trash.
Mel
You're right...if I were to post more I would have more readers, but I don't really care how many people read this. The people I want to read it, do. And the blog seems to have become a good ice breaker for family friendly conversation. ie, see first comment on this page. :)
I'm glad you had fun last weekend. We really wanted to go, but we had already agreed to babysit our friends gigantic chocolate lab. I got to play with him in the water though, which turned into the most fun I've had in the water since CRAK. Now I want a lab. Something that loves the water as much as I do.
I deleted one of my comments on here and wrote this one. After I posted it and read the thing, I realized it sounded judgmental and mean. So the rest of this isn't aimed at you, Mel, but your comment had me thinking about certain types of people I call "Speed Racers." Creative, huh?
Before I get going on this, I'm sure that since you beat the rest of your group by 40 minutes, they probably were cool with you getting ahead and challenging yourself. But, I've paddled, hiked and biked with people that broke from the group when it wasn't cool. And that's just not cool, man.
The Speed Racer always tries to outdo the pack by getting as far ahead as they can, as fast as possible. This causes strife among many in the group because people go on group outings to be in a relaxed group and have fun. They are not there for a race or worry the whole time because the group has been split apart.
Everybody knows about safety in numbers, especially on a river or in the woods. When one person gets too far ahead, the rest of the group feels like they have to keep up in order to minimize the distance between themselves and the leader.
Strife comes into play when the group feels like they would like to stop at a good swimming hole or rest. While paddling, I like to drift with the current and just talk about stuff.
But when one member of the pack is out of site, tension grows in the group and nobody feels comfortable stopping or even slowing down.
I am much more lenient with a straggler than a Speed Racer. The group can stop at any time and wait for a straggler. Stragglers also tend to be amateur naturalists and can tell you almost everything about anything you come across. Turning rocks and logs is the most common reason for a straggler to fall behind. Stick with this person if you are interested in something you've probably never seen before.
Some stragglers are major pains in the ass,though. Like the tech-o-phile straggler that holds up the group while trying to adjust their $400 walking sticks, or adjust their GPS. I hate those damn things. Treking poles are the biggest waste of money, and that's a fact, not an opinion. I hate them. GPS is awesome, I have one and love it. But I read the freakin' manual and know how to use it.
If that bothers you Mel, I'll tell an embarrassing story about myself.
I was in about 4th or 5th grade when my class went to the zoo. We were sitting in plastic chairs in a small room with a guy that had a gauntlet on his left arm with a large owl perched on it. The first thing he told us was, "Whatever happens, don't scream." I still haven't figured out why we couldn't scream, even if the giant owl had our helpless bodies in the clutches of its enormous talons.
I was sitting pretty much in the center of the room, so there were a couple of rows of kids between me and the owl in all directions. As long as it walked in the isles while searching for prey, I should have been fine.
I sat quietly, though nervously, reciting the one rule of the class over and over in my head. "Don't scream, don't scream, don't scream."
Then, the beastly thing did the unthinkable. It flapped its wings. The kids did an excellent job at staying quiet. Except me. I hadn't thought of it flying. My only defensive strategy I had involved the owl walking, in which case it shouldn't have been hungry by the time it ate its way to me. But flying, oh my God! It could come down on anybody! Even me!
So I screamed. Loud. Like a girl. The teachers started asking, "Who screamed? You're not supposed to scream!" The kids next to me ratted me out. "It was Yak! He screamed!" they all said with bright faces and glee.
"No," replied the teacher, "It was a girl, I heard it."
Oh thank heavens, a girl is definitely going to get it. I must have been drowned out by some girl screaming. Hell, I wasn't even heard! I hadn't screamed nearly as loudly as I thought I had.
"No Mrs. Whatsherfacebecause-
Idon'trememberhername. It was Yak! I heard him."
"Yak, was that you?" She had to raise her voice because of the laughter. Even the dude with the owl was laughing as he gave the beast a treat for humiliating me.
That's a true story. The names have been changed, obviously.
xoxo,
RiverYak
I misspelled "sight" in my comment above. I can't edit comments, so it is there forever. There are most likely other errors, but that is the only one I'm smart enough to know about.
Yak
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