It was one of those glorious late-winter afternoons that felt like a mid-spring day—bright blue sky, comforter clouds, and water dripping from our paddles like inverted candelabras. It was our fourth lap of the day, cutting a good clip across a pool on our home river, the Saint, when my buddy Kev glanced over with a thoughtful grin and asked his question:
“Why do we paddle so much?”
Now, normally Kev’s questions are more practical, such as “Where we stoppin’ for dinner?” “Who’s that chick?” “Do we have time for another lap?” “Has anyone seen Hudson in the last 45 minutes?” “Shit, are we out of beer?”
So, I welcomed this introspective interlude, inhaled contemplatively like a professor in the movies, and leaned back into my proverbial leather thinking chair—I mean back-band.