Chasing Waterfalls

This weekend, my husband and I decided to paddle to Burgess Falls in Middle Tennessee. The drive was about forty-five minutes to Cane Hollow which led to a recreational area where we could park the truck and launch the kayaks. On the way, we noticed the clouds rolling in and the wind picking up. The weather system hovering over our destination didn't look promising, but we kept driving and hoping things would change for the better. Once we arrived, my husband backed the truck up to the water and we unloaded the kayaks, paddles and waterproof bags that contained our picnic lunch we hoped to enjoy while sitting by the waterfall. After we finished unloading, we both looked up at the sky and then at each other. "I don't know about this," my husband mumbled. The sky was dark and heavy, the wind was whipping and the few kayakers that were already out there were being blown sideways despite their best efforts to stay the course. I agreed. It didn't look good at all. "Yeah, let's go sit in the truck for about fifteen minutes and see what happens," I mumbled back.

We walked up the hill, sat in the truck, and watched the dark, billowing clouds speed past us. We didn't expect the thunderstorms to reach that area until six o'clock in the evening and we no longer had a signal on our phones to see if the weather patterns had changed, so we had a decision to make.

We decided to go for it. We boarded our kayaks and began paddling through the open water, heading towards the winding channel that would eventually lead us to the waterfall. After about five minutes of paddling, the wind gusts picked up and began blowing our kayaks backwards and sideways, towards the back channel in the opposite direction of where we wanted to go. My husband dug in and the distance between us quickly began to lengthen. I yelled, "Hey!" to alert him that I wasn't keeping up. The wind was so loud, he didn't hear me and I watched as he paddled further away, becoming smaller and smaller in the distance.

I sat up straighter to use my core for balance, put my head down from the wind and began to paddle as hard and deeply as I could. After about fifty forward strokes, I lifted my head. My kayak hadn't moved and my knight in shining armor had left me in the aquatic dust to fend for myself. I tried it again. Head down, fifty more strokes and the best thing I can say is that my kayak wasn't moving sideways. Understand, I'm an avid kayaker and just last summer, I pulled a one hundred-something-pound woman on her kayak behind me for two miles because she faked an injury and I felt sorry for her (she wasn't hurt, she was bored with paddling). That experience was not even close to the strength this wind was requiring of me.

One of my favorite photos with "The Faker"

I became frustrated and contemplated returning to the launch point to wait in the truck until my husband figured out I wasn't behind him. And then I remembered he had the key, the water and the food. So I cursed him and suddenly my anger morphed into scorned-woman-level determination. I wasn't about to give into the wind nor was I going to miss the opportunity to give my husband hell in the middle of the lake. So, I kept paddling. And I found my groove.

And just as I rounded the corner into the channel, I saw my husband entranced by a group of spotted gar, laying their eggs in the shallow, vegetated area of the rocky shoreline. "Look, babe! Look at the gar!" "Are you serious, right now" I snapped, You left me back there all alone!" "Ah!" He smiled, "I wasn't worried. I knew you'd make it. That's why I was sitting here, watching the fish. I was just waiting for you to get through it." We continued to paddle along the winding channel for another two miles, weaving our way between the fallen trees and branches that had lost their war against the wind. We watched an eagle soar above us and numerous fish emerge from below to say hello. We smiled at the happy kayakers paddling back from their journey and I screamed when my husband thought it would be funny to scoop up a water snake and toss it my way. As we made the last turn, we heard the thunderous roar of the waterfall and slowed our pace as we made our approach. The cascade was forceful, crashing down into the frothing pool and sending ripples outward, pushing the curious kayakers away from the fall and into the large rocks.

We paddled over to the rocky bank and found the perfect spot to enjoy our lunch. We snacked on grilled chicken, kiwis and sliced tomatoes and watched the kayakers turn the corner, enjoying the look of awe on their faces as they discovered one of our favorite spots to hang out.

My egg-laying fish watcher

We had the current of the waterfall pushing us forward for a portion of our return trip. And we were even lucky enough to get some tailwinds. I was able to slow my pace and enjoy the ride, letting the experience calm my heart and renew my spirit. Just like in life, in business, in relationships, sometimes there are headwinds. Sometimes there are tailwinds. If we're lucky, we have someone calmly staring at some egg- laying fish, without a worry in the world because all the time, they believed in us. They knew we would make it.