Oh Canada Part III: How Not to Die While Surfing Behind the Boat

August 7, 2013 By

Surfing machine Emily

I already established in my last post that I’m not a water lover. But guess what? I really really enjoyed our five day adventures on Okanagan Lake, B.C., so much so that I may consider myself a quasi-water lover (baby steps, people).

My history with water-skiing hasn’t been pretty. Growing up, my family never went boating enough for me to actually improve so I’d usually look like a decrepit 100-year-old as I got dragged around the lake (when I was lucky enough to get up, that is). I tried wake-boarding years ago and found that a lot easier but I had pretty much discounted water sports from my repertoire.

Until I saw my brother Pat surf.

Though I don’t fear the water, the thought of real surfing terrifies me and I want to take surfing lessons to get over my fear of getting trampled by the waves. But when I saw Pat surf behind the boat, I was enthralled. It was like poetry in motion as he smoothly cut in and out of the wake, rocking out to the tunes blasting on the boat (I learned your playlist whilst surfing is almost as important as the board you’re using).

Turns out, surfing isn’t as easy as just throwing a rope behind the boat. In order to create a big wake, a proper ballast is required to make the boat sit lower in the water on the side you will be surfing on. My brother’s new Mastercraft has “fat sacs” to weigh it down even more.

And yes, you can insert fat jokes here.

Hadley and Bode both fell in love with surfing.

Hanging loose with Aunt Jane

“You can do it, Amber,” my sister-in-law Jane encouraged me. “It’s a lot easier than water-skiing or wake-boarding.”

I didn’t believe her but because I wanted to set an example for the kids in trying new things that scare us, I decided to try. I made the goal to get up by week’s end.

Coach Jane joined me in the water. The process:

1) Float around like an idiot trying to get your feet in the right place on top of the board while swallowing a gallon of water. Since it’s a surfboard, there are no foot holds so positioning is key.

2) Call out to your brother who is driving the boat to give you a little drag. That is in reference to slowly starting to move  the boat forward, not to smoking. Though both can kill.

3) Holding the rope between open knees, flip the board toward you by pushing down with your heels so that the edge of the board further from the boat is under water and the edge closet to the boat is up slightly in the air. Ingest more water.

4) Pull back on the rope to make sure it can support you (at least in your dreams), then lean waaay forward so your hands are between your feet. And yes, this looks as awkward as it sounds.

5) Yell “hit it” and fighting, fighting, fighting against the water, point your board toward the boat’s prop and begin turning toward the wake by putting more weigh on the edge of the board.

6) Freak out because, my GOSH, you got up on the first try! And then you react as any surfing professional would do: you jump off.

“You got up!” Jane yelled. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I didn’t know what to do next!”  I’d been so focused on watching how everyone got up, I hadn’t paid attention to how they actually surfed.

Second try, I popped back up and once I was stabilized, I slowly started pulling myself closer until I reached the sweet spot right before the boat. I was surfing!! And it was glorious!! The learning curve was huge and each time, I’d get better at shifting my weight to surf the wave.

Next summer’s goal: drop the rope and surf without its support.

Because after getting up the first try, I believe in miracles.

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Oh Canada Part I: My Home and Native Land

Oh Canada Part II: Home on the Range (errr, boat)

Oh Canada Part III: How Not to Die When Surfing Behind the Boat

Oh Canada Part IV: Jumping Into the Abyss

 

Filed Under: Canada, Family travel, Humor, outdoors Tagged With: , ,

Oh Canada Part II: Home on the Range (errrr, Lake)

July 31, 2013 By

I am not a water person.

My issue is not with being near or even on the water but the whole getting in part. There’s not really fear involved; my mom divulged I just never really liked getting my face wet and two subsequent nose surgeries haven’t helped my disdain for being dunked.

My old brother Pat, on the other hand, is a water/wakeboarding/kiteboarding/surfing fiend.  Every spare moment they have during Calgary’s short warm season, they are in his new state-of-the-art boat. Their favorite vacations are to Cuba and spending 1-2 weeks on the lake in British Columbia.

They’ve invited us to B.C. for years but this is the first time we have gone and had such a spectacular time I’m committed to making it happen as often as we can. If you’re not familiar with Canada’s landscape, Alberta is notorious for our gorgeous Canadian Rockies but we’re rather lacking in warm-water lakes. Enter: British Columbia. Not only do they have some gorgeous peaks (the 6-hour drive from Calgary to Vernon via Banff National Park was mind-blowing) but some of the most beautiful lakes set in the lushest of settings: the Okanogan Valley.

My memories of this area as a child were of verdant orchards and vineyards as far as the eye could see and fruit stands at every corner. And so my one requirement during our visit: we had to stop at a fruit stand. My dad delivered by pulling over at The Mother of All Fruit Lands: The Log Barn outside of Vernon. This 1912 barn not only provided a nostalgic experience with culinary traditions of Mennonite pioneers and a huge array of old-fashioned sausage, baked goodies, jams, syrups and jellies and fresh fruit but it had Dave’s Goat Walk.

Log Barn

Yes, that’s right, folks. We could buy goat feed for 25 cents and pour the corn in a cup that was attached to a pulley system that rose to the top of an archway that extended across the road. When the food reached the top, the goats could see and hear what they were doing so would race up the arch to grab their food.

It it wasn’t raining, we could have stayed there for hours.

But we dragged ourselves away and we’re so glad we did because this was our home for the next five days.

Mana Manor

Okanogan lake

Nightly s’mores roasting and campfire chats

Okanagan lake Lake is a large, deep 84-mile-long lake in the Okanagan Valley of British Columbia. My kids aren’t accustomed to lake life so I anticipated they’d get bored after a few days. Never happened. In fact, they didn’t wear shoes all week and settled rather nicely into our private little beach area.

Daily fishing expeditions off the dock.

Fun on the boat watching Pat surf

Meet the Parents

Bode’s real birthday: an ice cream birthday cake

I’m having picture formatting issues to stay tuned for Part III!

Filed Under: Bode, Canada, Family travel, Hadley, Humor, travel Tagged With: ,

The Delta Lodge at Kananaskis

January 5, 2009 By

Our Christmas was all about giving each other “experiences.” My brother and sister-in-law threatened to take us to the killer workout Ripped but I mercifully got sick and they instead porked us up at the city’s nicest steakhouse. And for The Parents Who Have Everything, my husband Jamie and I decided we would whisk them away on an overnighter in the Canadian Rockies.

Lest you think this was a bit over-the-top, it helped we were already vacationing at their home in Calgary.

I wanted somewhere that was kid-friendly, fairly close and most importantly, had gorgeous views of the Canadian Rockies. Long ago, I had bookmarked The Delta Lodge at Kananaskis as a potential destination. Never heard of Kananaskis Country? Take it from me: it is Alberta’s best-kept secret. While all the other tourists are heading to nearby Banff or Jasper, locals sneak off to Kananaskis’ 4,000-square kilometer outdoor playground, which is just as beautiful but without the crowds and cost.

And yes, I am quoting the size in kilometers. All you non-metric people need to get with the program (and rest of the world).

The Delta Lodge is consistently rated as one of Alberta’s best family hotels and upon check-in, each of the children received a packet of fun Christmas crafts and toys. I really didn’t have an agenda because there is a lot to do in the area with a nearby tobogganing hill, a gorgeous walk along the Rim Trail, an outdoor pond for skating, a pool and spa, game room and Nakiska ski resort, site of the 1988 Olympic Alpine events.

But here’s the deal. It was cold. We were lazy. And The Delta Lodge had already served up a full plate of Christmas activities that we couldn’t resist. We made banana boats and roasted them on a campfire. My daughter wrote a letter to Santa and was delighted to find a response under the door the next morning.

Funny. The only thing they slipped me was the bill.

And there was the Elf Tuck-In Service. IMG 1098

Yes, people. At bedtime, an elf came to snuggle up to my children and read them Christmas stories before tucking them into bed. As I watched my children giggle in wonderment, I had an epiphany: my childhood sucked. Sure, I had love. Sure I had stability. BUT WHERE WAS MY ELF?

But the highlight of the whole trip was when my mom and I skipped out on swimming and played “Merry Christmas Bingo” with Mrs. Claus. I can’t explain it but I have had an unhealthy obsession with Bingo. Jamie banned me from playing on our recent cruise, possibly fearing we’d be in the only ones in there without bifocals and that this was my version of a mid-life crisis.

Turns out, we were the only people in the room without young children. At first, I felt subconscious. What if I actually won? Would my victory be frowned upon by the other children and parents? But then I got caught in the crossfire of a 13-year-old boy’s mini-marshmallow attack. He unapologetically sneered at me. I glared back. And then war was declared.

Rudolph, Santa’s Hat and Wreaths–all these images were on my Bingo card and I became obsessed with covering them with my mini-marshmallow Bingo chips. Mrs. Claus droned on and on until finally, a perfect letter ‘X’ was formed. I momentary paused, savoring the victory yet wondering if I should quietly and modestly announce it.

“MERRRRRRRRY CHRISTMASSSSS!” I ended up shouting.

After all, I have never been quiet or modest about anything.

Turns out the joke was on me. When I went to redeem my prize, the only ones available were for kids 12 and under. I finally snatched up a ceramic piggy bank with accompanying paints, acting like it was just like what I always wanted.

And maybe it was. In fact, I’ll probably even paint it bronze.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Family travel, holidays, Humor, travel Tagged With: