It's Like Regular Kayaking, But Less Fun

This Saturday, my friends and I invented a new sport. We call it "hikaking." Hikaking is like regular kayaking except instead of paddling happily down the river you spend half your time hiking through knee deep cold water dragging your boat across slippery rocks. It's about as awesome as it sounds.

We intended to spend the brisk and sunny fall morning doing a short run of river near Murfreesboro - a little over 6 miles, which, according to the book, should have taken us about three and a half hours.

It took us over six.

It was supposed to be cool - we dressed accordingly - but sunny. And for part of the trip it was. How refreshing, to be outside in the beautiful fall weather! The water was clear and we spotted fish, turtles, a snake, and maybe possibly an otter-type creature.

But a few hours in and suddenly the sun was gone, obscured by a sky full of fat clouds, a few of which threatened rain. Practically everyone was wet to the waist with cold clingy clothes. The injuries were mounting - a bruised tailbone, blistering hands, a bloodied knee (that one was me). The effort it took to dislodge your boat from its perch on yet another rock seemed overwhelming. Around literally every bend we were crushed to discover not the bridge that signaled the end of our journey but just... more... river...

The camraderie of paddling as a pack gave way to the efficiency of desperation as we split up, sending a pair ahead each time to scout out what awaited us and then direct the other boats through the trecherous waters.

But we survived, somehow, as evidenced by the fact that I am here to recount the story for you. On the back end of the trip, I can say I'm glad we did it. As an utterly non-adventurous and non-outdoorsy type of person, it feels kinda cool to have this story to tell. And I feel a little sense of pride at my gnarly knee wound which must be explained with something a little more exciting than, "I fell down."

Nope, this time it is more like, "I fell down... while dragging my kayak across jagged slick river rocks after hours of hikaking. My knee was totally dripping blood. I had to dig some rock fragments out of it. It was awesome. Wanna see?"

PS. My friend Lila who was there wrote a post about our trip as well... she posted some of our pictures too. Click here to read her version!

Headband Headache

This one is for all the ladies out there.


I don't want to complain about headbands. I love them. I am so glad they are back in style and available in a bevy of adorable colors, prints, and widths. However...



We all know how it feels. You're a few hours into your day, rockin' the cutest little headband to hold back your too long bangs or unwashed hair or to spruce up a ponytail (headbands cover a multitude of hair sins). Soon, however, you begin to feel it. The sides of your head, from your temples to your cheeks, start to ache. Sweet relief can be yours if you remove the headband, which you might do for a few minutes in the privacy of your own office, pressing your fingers into the tender indentations behind your ears. But you can't afford to be in comfort for long, because of course your hair has a permanent dent from where the headband was, or your bangs are now standing on end... and you just look really weird. So, back on goes the headband, which now instead of being your partner in cuteness is your enemy in the axis of pain.


Solutions have long been offered - a head scarf! An item which looks like a headband but has elastic in the back so it is soft! A bandana! I own all these things, and while they are cute in their own right, they come with their own problems. No pain - but then they're slipping off your head or causing the hair at the nape of your neck to bump up over the fabric making it look like you have a neck tumor. Just... so many problems.


So, here's the thing, headband makers of the world. Just, take a headband and hold it in your hands and look at it for a second. The space between the ear pieces is probably what... two inches? Now look at the average human head. It is probably a good 6 or 7 inches wide. So. You do the math. I understand it needs to be smaller to keep the tension to hold the hair down, but maybe we could meet somewhere in the middle. Because right now, my head is in the middle of a headband. And it is saying ouch.


P.S. Just like high heels, I will continue to wear headbands even though they cause me pain. Because they are adorable.