In case you missed it, Minnesota has a lot of water.
Notably, the celebrated moniker “Land of 10,000 Lakes” is deceptively humble; the state actually hosts a total of 11,842 named bodies of water. Just as there is no shortage of water in “the great North,” there is also no shortage of pride for the natural resource that has come to define Minnesota. Indeed, Minnesotans love nothing more than time spent away at the cabin, relaxing at “the lake[1]” and soaking up the summer sun before winter inevitably returns.
Wanting to fully partake in our new state’s claim to fame, Cam and I have been on the hunt for as many opportunities to surround ourselves with water as possible. From biking around the Chain of Lakes to fishing up North in Lake Winnibigoshish to witnessing the local grandeur of Minnehaha Falls, we love all things H2O.
With this affinity for water, we could hardly restrain ourselves from embarking on the next step of our Minnesota metamorphosis: We bought kayaks. After all, it isn’t enough to simply be around water: We wanted to be on it.
But let me back up.
Since we met in undergrad Cam and I have loved renting boats and taking them for a spin. From pedal boats to kayaks to standup paddleboards[2] we quickly bonded over our love of being on the water. There is something transcendent, almost magical about floating on the surface of a vast lake; nothing beats listening to your boat cut across the water as if you are gliding on glass. This intensity only heightens the closer you get to water. While boating with larger watercraft is certainly relaxing and thrilling, I find particular joy navigating smaller, human-powered vessels. Kayaks provide a heightened sense of immediacy and connectedness, your buoyant presence constantly reminding you of the miraculous science behind your sport.
This is my happy place.
We had discussed the various benefits of owning kayaks for a while, but our most recent trip to Door County[3], Wisconsin got us particularly hooked on the kayak bandwagon. Upon returning home from our trip we began to find ourselves—both separately and individually—Googling kayaks and conducting research about Minnesota boating. Kayaks constantly came up in conversation, and we simply could not shake the dream of ownership from our minds. Finally one night on the couch—me on my laptop, Cam on his iPhone, and both of us pouring over the same sites—Cam finally bit the bullet and recognized our shared obsession by voicing it out loud:
“Should we just go to Dick’s Sporting Goods and…look around?”
I loved the casual tone with which he spoke; I could practically envision the ellipses dangling in the air, testing the water, waiting for me to intercept them and adopt their meaning for myself. Dot, dot, dot: What do you think, Katie?
I don’t even remember how I responded: He didn’t have to ask me twice!
And so we found ourselves at Dick’s, just “looking around” in the kayak section. A few different models lined the floor, and we eagerly inspected each boat, admiring its shape, color, and specs. I was sitting in one particularly comfortable model, the Perception Swifty, when a sales associate stopped by.
“That is a great kayak! Very comfortable. My wife and I have five of them. She just had knee surgery and is still able to be out on the water all day in that boat: That’s how great the seat is!”
We were hooked. Wanting to learn more, we spent the next several minutes engaging with this man who proudly shared his own experiences as testament to the kayak’s quality. In the midst of this conversation we also noticed the boat was on sale: Fifty dollars off its normal retail price. Not too shabby.
The Dick’s associate continued:
“But wait! I haven’t told you the best part! If you think this sale is good, then you should come back next Thursday. How does an extra hundred knocked of this price sound?”
Cam and I looked at one another and exchanged meaning without exchanging words.
It sounds pretty damn good, that’s how it sounds!
Our excitement was palpable as we left the store[4], and we promptly found ourselves having come full circle; before we knew it, we were back on the couch, eyes locked on our devices, anxiously combing the internet and reading reviews to verify all we had just heard.
Before our casual window-shopping experience I had my eye on a Manatee 10 Solo Kayak from LLBean. I particularly liked the features and aesthetic of this boat, and I knew I could anticipate a sizable discount if we timed things correctly to align with one of the outdoor superstore’s regular sales[5]. And yet, Dick’s Sporting Goods left me intrigued with the kayak we had viewed in-store. The higher seat certainly provided additional comfort and support[6], and we would clearly have ourselves a winner if online reviews supported the associate’s in-store testament.
But there were still two minor details[7] we had yet to consider: Where would we store the kayaks, and how would we transport them?
Enter: Additional research and countless measuring.
Cam and I scrambled around our apartment like chickens with our heads caught off, wildly measuring various angles and surfaces of our space while silently willing the geometry to work and bend itself to our will. We already store our bikes in the apartment, so were we pushing our luck in trying to also house two kayaks? How had we not thought through this before?!
We spent hours rearranging furniture, theorizing creative solutions, drinking beer, throwing it all out, and starting over again from scratch. It felt like we were on some HGTV episode, only instead of drumming up inventive solutions to make a small space functional we were striving to defy the laws of space and probability by resurrecting our apartment to function as Minneapolis’ newest REI location.
Were we crazy? Yes.
Did we make it work? You betcha[8]!
After countless hours of research, discussion, furniture rearranging, and measuring we opted to go with the Swifty[9], partly because of the additional attention for comfort and mostly because of 1) the insanely discounted price and 2) the fact that the 9.5ft boat would fit in the body of Cam’s car[10]. It didn’t hurt that Perception is also the top of the line when it comes to kayaks. Perception has been in the business for over forty years, and every watercraft is designed, molded, and hand-assembled in Greenville, South Carolina. The decision was practically made for us.
Soon we found ourselves back at Dick’s. As our kayak hero had informed us, the sale was slotted to begin on Thursday, and we had planned to get there as soon as the store opened. That said, we couldn’t help taking a sneak peak on Wednesday evening just to scout out our options. We were just going to “look around” after all.
We made our way to the kayaks and began to scope out our color selections. It wasn’t long before I grabbed Cam’s arm, my nails digging into his skin with pure excitement:
“Cam! Look! They are on sale! Early!”
We both leapt with excitement, two kids in a candy kayak store, and began racing about in an effort to lay claim to our picks before the competition[11] stole our favorites. The Swifty comes in six different color options, but each kayak is slightly different and unique due to the nature of the molding process. Cam and I poured over hue and color marbling as if we were art critics, carefully weighing the pros and cons of each individual kayak before deciding on the boats we would name as our own personal masterpieces. After finally settling on our selections, we used the store’s escalator to tow our treasures down to the first floor[12], purchased our sunset and lime/black beauties, and made our way home in a hurry, feeling like we had made out like bandits with the sale we had just scored[13]!
Weather and schedules prohibited us from immediately taking our kayaks out, but we hit the water as quickly as we could. We didn’t have to think long before knowing where we would go: Medicine Lake, a local body of water that had quickly become our “old standby.”
Pushing off onto Medicine Lake for the first time was surreal. It took us several minutes to get situated and re-master paddling techniques, but the shoreline began to fade as we quickly made our way through the calm, inviting waters. Cam particularly enjoyed experimenting with his new trusty steed, racing to see just how quickly he could paddle before screeching to a dead halt, intentionally[14] spraying me with water in the process.
We explored the ins and outs of one side of the lake, stopping to take pictures, laugh, and revel in the fact that we owned the watercraft we were navigating. We even witnessed a fellow water-lover SUPing with her two pups!
The possibilities to explore were endless, and we delighted in the brimming capacity of it all. The sun began to glow with rosy pinks and purples as we finally made our way back towards the car. We towed our kayaks out of the water, nearly drunk with the overwhelmingly intoxicating promise of adventure that awaited us.
Each time we are on the water I am amazed by the possibility and perspective I experience. Our second time out was quite busy, and we navigated wakes as speedboats zipped through the water, waving with excitement as we paddled along. Our next trip was much calmer, and we intentionally chased after early morning hours so we could fully appreciate the peace and serenity the water has to offer. During this voyage we discovered a little marina with docked sailboats, and I was charmed to stumble upon a gorgeous collection of water lilies. As if this wasn’t enough excitement, I spotted a bald eagle nesting in a nearby tree, and we watched in awe as it soared across the sky, far enough to keep a safe distance but close enough that we could fully appreciate its distinct, majestic features. Throughout the entire voyage the early morning sun danced across the water’s surface and instilled a deep sense of contentment.
Medicine Lake gets its name from the Native American word “Mdewakan,” which means “Lake of the Spirit.” This resonates with me as profoundly beautiful, a place that can cure the spirit, communicate with the spirit, restore the spirit, and make it whole again.
Being on the water certainly is its own version of therapy, a welcomed retreat from the hustle and bustle of our daily lives. It doesn’t take much—an hour or two will do—but spend your time cutting across the surface of a lake, and it can heal you in ways you didn’t even think possible.
I initially wanted the “Manatee” kayak for its namesake, but I am quite content with our Perception kayaks, as I think this name embodies an idea even more fitting and transcendent.
Life is full of perceptions—what we think of other people, what they think of us, how we envision our futures—the list goes on and on. And yet, perhaps the perception we should really focus on is our self-perception. Do we view ourselves as worthy enough to step back and take a break from it all?
Perception involves intuitively understanding, recognizing, and appreciating the moral, psychological, or aesthetic qualities of something else, and I don’t think we give ourselves enough opportunities to do this in an authentic, constructive way. From the kayak my mind is clear, freeing my perceptions and restructuring the world around me in a way that seeks greater clarity and truth.
Perhaps we don’t need adjustments in attitude, but rather we need adjustments in perception.
If we can do this, then the sky is the limit, the water is endless, our 10,000 lakes might as well be infinite.
Paddle on.
[1] I have quickly come to realize that when Minnesotans say “the lake” they are actually referencing a very specific lake (1 of 11,842, mind you) they have grown to love and frequent often. And yet, they refer to said lake like it is the singular lake that defines our state. Take this common exchange:
Native Minnesotan: “I was at the lake last weekend.”
Me: Cool! Which lake? Lake Minnetonka? Lake Pepin? Lake Superior? Lake Vermilion?
Native Minnesotan: The lake! I was at my cabin on the lake last weekend.
Me: (Face palm.) It’s all Greek lake to me!
Regardless of the inherent ambiguity surrounding “the lake” phenomena, this approach possesses an endearing native charm that makes the resulting geographical uncertainty easy to overlook.
[2] Or SUPs as they are often affectionately referred to amongst adventure seekers.
[3] See post “Burn the Winter Witch! Fyr Bal ‘Burnt Orange’ & the Official Start of Summer” for additional details.
[4] …empty-handed… I told you we were only going to look around!
[5] Who am I kidding? I also saw this post coming a mile away and liked the fact that this particular kayak’s name just so happened to match one of the crayon colors I had anticipated difficulty creating content for. Manatee? Who knew that was a crayon color? So there’s that…
[6] Proper ergonomics go a long way in my book!
[7] Okay, two really significant make-or-break type details.
[8] Pro tip: Bed risers. Elevate your bed an extra seven inches, slide those puppies in, and poof! Just like that you can make a couple of kayaks disappear! Not going to lie, I’m pretty proud of myself for that apartment life kayak hack. HGTV, I’m available whenever you want me!
[9] Taylor would be proud. No “Bad Blood” here: Thank goodness!
[10] One kayak at a time, that is. But no problem for us. We are in no rush: We’re on lake time!
[11] …Which, I will have you know, didn’t exist. We were nearly the only ones in the store…Still, you can never be too sure…
[12] THAT was a sight!
[13] You just don’t beat a sale that takes off $150 per boat. Well done, Dick’s. Well done.
[14] Read: Gleefully.
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