Crispy Toes

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Steph and I went for a paddle last night.  Well, sort of …

In our usual half-organised style, he set off from near Prossers and I set of from the Squadron with plans to meet half way and do a work out once we’d met up …

Exhibit A: This is a photo of 6 kayakers rafted up at night.

You’d think we might have figured out that we could pass each other … like ships in the night … but I figured that with my light on Steph would at least see me, even if I didn’t see him. 

He didn’t. 

I ended up at Prossers, he ended up at the Squadron and we only found each other when I had paddled all the way back to where I started from.

After that we only had the enthusiasm for a short sprint down to the docks, where we sat around watching the people in Blue Skies Cafe looking back at us (I’d love to know what they were thinking).  One of us may have paddled under the Peppermint Bay II Catamaran under the cover of darkness, but that’s only rumour and scuttlebutt.  There’s no photos to prove it.

We seperated on the way back, Steph taking a direct course back to Prossers me heading to the Squadron, with plans to catch up for Pizza after we got to shore, but it dawned on me when I got back to my bike that I had no clothes to get changed into (just my cycling gear) and my feet were wet and freezing by the time I got to shore, so I ended up just cycling the 30 minutes straight home to stand in front of the heater and defrost.

For the first time this winter I could feel the frosty grass crunching under my feet as I walked across my front lawn …

Winter has definitely arrived …

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