Excerpt from a trip journal. Vancouver Island, January, 2008:
“Conditions out in the main channel were challenging. Lots of spray and the wind coming directly at me made it hard to tell if I was even moving at all. Supposedly, the current was at my back, but the strong gusts that pushed the waves up against me for three or four hours cancelled out whatever joy I was going to get from that. But I just kept at it, just kept moving mountains and eventually I got here.
“‘Moving mountains’ is a term I made up to describe how it feels to paddle those long open-water sections. There is so little that is close by that can be used to gauge progress and it can be demoralizing to feel like you are on some sort of liquid treadmill, working hard but seemingly going nowhere. So I look farther off to get my inspiration. I can see the snow-clad peaks of the peninsula off in the distance and as I paddle, I watch how they seem to change positions over time. They seem so big and I seem so small, but I move them, I really do, one paddle stroke at a time.”