Kayak-o-rama

It's freaking hot here. And humid. I'm caught between hating the unnatural freeze of A/C and feeling like a useless farm dog flopping down in the heat. Only Pimms Cups (see exhibit A, above) seem to help, and who can blame me, Pimms Cups are decidely more-ish. Another way to beat the heat:

If you are in central PA and can make your way to Tussey Mountain Outfitters in Bellefonte, by all means, "provision up"*, rent yourself a kayak and gear, get yourself to the place to 'let off'* in Milesburg and 'take up'* at the mouth of Howard Lake (a.k.a. what our outfitter called "almost West Virgina", which, my WVa readers will probably think is a big old diss but well, now, don't get your knickers in a knot, it was hillare the way he said it...hehe). A few hours later after much paddling and generally low water, you WILL have fun. Below, a photo essay. Please note that I am the one NOT with a moustache.
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*among the many 'techie' kayaking terms gleaned today from careful observation and astute listening skillz.

"Yes, I want to catch you trout, yes I do..."

"Don't look now, but here comes the Iroquois war party..." We realize this may be offensive to some, but you know what? It was damn funny at the TIME.

It's too hot to look fierce. No, wait, WE are too hot...

"Crap, I didn't sign the collision damage waiver thingie!" Also note that Keen shoes are the best, in my humble opinion, for water sports, and believe me, I spent plenny 'o years in crappy old Keds while innertubing the Yakima, so I know what I'm talking about.

My trusty vessel...

...which I pulled over to do my business. This heat means you have to drink LOTS of water, and well....a kayak is not an easy access vehicle (see: Peeing into a Starbucks cup whilst stranded on a mountain pass). I have to admit, it'd been a while since I tinkled in nature and...it was fun!

Where we stopped for lunch: this is a restored iron ore works; I learned today a new Most Interesting tidbit that central PA is where all the ore came from during and after the Civil War, and Pittsburgh capped on the three rivers thing it had going for transport, thus the industry slowly disappeared from this part of the state...

I bet engineers would really geek out over this whole thing.

This photo included to illustrate the size of one cord of wood, to reflect on that one season we stacked SIX cords at the "H" household from our indigenous trees, and ONE of the sisters, e.g. NOT me, complained that "...Dad, all we ever do is STACK WOOD!"

A great escape from The Grind, which I must now attend to...

After I take a short rest because hell's bells, my shoulders and forearms are ON FIRE.