Kayaking Quotes

Hidup juga kayak cuaca. Hari ini bisa hujan, besok bisa cerah. Tapi, lo nggak akan punya hujan selamanya, atau kemarau selamanya. Kita butuh pahit dan manis secara bersamaan, sebuah bentuk keseimbangan.

Orang yang baca banyak buku kayak kamu dan menguasai sejarah nggak mungkin bodoh. Kamu cuma sial karena hidup di tempat dan waktu yang salah. Tempat dan waktu ketika kamu dianggap bodoh kalau kamu nggak pintar dalam hal yang namanya sains.

Orang nggak bisa milih siapa bapaknya, ibunya, sukunya, warna kulitnya, jenis kelaminnya, bahkan kadang-kadang agamanya. Jadi konyol, kalau aku ngejauhi orang-orang gara-gara hal yang nggak bisa mereka pilih sendiri. Kayak orang bego aja.

Poetry isn’t an island, it is the bridge. Poetry isn’t a ship, it is the lifeboat. Poetry isn’t swimming. Poetry is water.

Everybody's different, and in dealing with differences, egos play a huge part.Kita gak bisa maksain orang supaya sama kayak kita. Trima aj perbedaan itu sebagai perbedaan kepribadian. Asalkan gak melanggar values kita,diterima aj.

Maybe freedom really is nothing left to lose. You had it once in childhood, when it was okay to climb a tree, to paint a crazy picture and wipe out on your bike, to get hurt. The spirit of risk gradually takes its leave. It follows the wild cries of joy and pain down the wind, through the hedgerow, growing ever fainter. What was that sound? A dog barking far off? That was our life calling to us, the one that was vigorous and undefended and curious.

Hujan itu bagus kalau jatuh. Kayak bintang kalau jatuh. Kayak daun kalau jatuh. Kenapa kita harus takut jatuh? Semua pasti pernah jatuh.

We know summer is the height of of being alive. We don't believe in God or the prospect of an afterlife mostly, so we know that we're only given eighty summers or so per lifetime, and each one has to be better then the last, has to encompass a trip to that arts center up at Bard, a seemingly mellow game of badminton over at some yahoo's Vermont cottage, and a cool, wet, slightly dangerous kayak trip down an unforgiving river. Otherwise, how would you know that you have lived your summertime best? What if you missed out on some morsel of shaded nirvana?

Romance isn't just about roses or killing dragons or sailing a kayak around the world. It's also about chocolate chip cookies and sharing The Grateful Dead and James Taylor with me in the middle of the night, and believing me when I say that you could be bigger than both of them put together, and not making fun of me for straightening out my french fries or pointing my shoelaces in the same direction, and letting me pout when I don't get my own way, and pretending that if I play "Flower Drum Song" one more time you won't throw me and the record out the window

You will be so dead, dear Sister. Make telpon dari tadi kayak Kroasia ada di sebelah Jakarta aja. Huahahaha

I watched clouds awobbly from the floor ' that kayak. Souls cross ages like clouds cross skies, an' tho' a cloud's shape nor hue nor size don't stay the same, it's still a cloud an' so is a soul. Who can say where the cloud's blowed from or who the soul'll be 'morrow? Only Sonmi the east an' the west an' the compass an' the atlas, yay, only the atlas o'clouds.

Seandainya gue ketemu dia duluan dibanding suami gue, pasti anak-anak gue sekarang udah kayak turunan dewa Yunani.

Agama dijadikan media provokasi termurah dan terefektif sepanjang masa, apalagi buat orang kayak gue yang nggak ngerti-ngerti banget agama.

Iya, makanya aku nanyak. Siapa Gabriel Marcel. Apa potongan rambutnya kayak gini,” kata Johni sambil menunjuk rambutnya.

Well, if you ask me what’s so special about this place.. aku akan bilang, most of the time, beauty lies in the simplest of things. Kayak semilir angin pagi dari teras kamar. Minum air tanpa harus dijerang lebih dulu. Makan sayuran hijau yang baru dipetik. Mendaki kebun teh di siang hari, di tengah gerimis. Menyeruput kuah dengan berisik, setelah kenyang menyantap rebusan rebung muda. Sarapan di kedai mi sederhana yang pernah masuk program televisi. Berjalan kaki sepanjang pasar malam yang dihiasi temaram lentera kertas. Menuliskan doa di kuil. Minum teh hangat di atap terbuka, di bawah hamparan langit berbintang. Hiking di rain forest dan menikmati alam terbuka. Ini hanya kisah perjalanan sederhana, dibumbui beberapa gigitan nyamuk, oleh-oleh sepasang sumpit kayu, dan petualangan kuliner yang nambah-nambahin bobot timbangan. Ini cerita tentang menemukan sesuatu yang nggak terduga, di tempat yang tidak disangka. Semua dari sebuah desa kecil bernama air. And that’s the beauty of small things. Don’t you agree?

Waterhouse's new roommate is out of town just now, but by glancing over his personal effects, Waterhouse estimates that he is paddling a black kayak from Australia to Yokosuka Naval Base, where he will slip on board a battleship and silently kill its entire crew with his bare hands before doing an Olympic-qualifying dive into the bay, punching out a few sharks, climbing back into his kayak and paddling back to Australia for a beer.

Kamu itu sekali-kali coba belajar untuk nggak perlu mikirin apa yang orang lain pikir tentang kamu. Karena mereka belum tentu berpikir kayak apa yang kamu pikirin. Nambah-nambah beban pikiran kamu aja. Dewangga

My dad says stop thinking that way. “You be lookin’ backward all the time, Brady, you’re gonna have one heck of a crook in the neck.” He smiles when he says that. But I know what he means deep down, and it’s not funny. You can’t keep dwelling on the past when you can’t undo it. You can’t make it happen any different than it did.

Kadang-kadang emang butuh sendiri supaya bisa denger dengan jelas apa yang hati kita butuhkan. Biar hidup nggak garing kayak hidup gue sekarang.

Perempuan kayak saya nggak bisa diumpet-umpetin.

Artisanal You: I hope you've found your favorite ways to be, whether that's gardening or teaching, kayaking or governing. I hope you're on a road that matters to you, and that you feel like you're getting somewhere.

Grief. The state of mind brought about when love, having lost to death, learns to breathe beside it. See also love.

Two weeks earlier than scheduled, she flew into Vancouver and signed on with Greenpeace. The work was neither taxing nor truly exciting but the people she met more than compensated and she forged many new friendships. The high points were the trips they made by sea kayak, exploring the wild inlets farther up the coast. They watched bears scoop salmon from the shallows and paddled among pods of orcas, so close you could have reached out and touched them. At night they camped at the water's edge, listening to the blow of whales in the bay and the distant howls of wolves in the forest above.

Lo percaya sama Tuhan, nggak?" Dia Tertawa. "Siapasih Tuhan buat lo? Paling juga Tuhan cuma orang asing buat lo, kayak orang lain. Yangngelakuin ritual ini itu tapi nggak ngerti juga mereka nyembah siapa. Yang nggak ngerasa nyaman sama Tuhannya, cuma ngerasa Tuhan itu orang asing yang kerjaannya hukum-hukumin orang.

In Greenland there is no ownership of land. What you own is your house, your dogs, your sleds and kayaks. Everyone is fed. It is a food-sharing society in which the whole population is kept in mind--the widows, elderly, infirm, and ill are always taken care of. Jens said, "We weren't born to buy and sell, but to be out on the ice with our families.

Aku pengen banget punya lorong waktu kayak Doraemon Supaya Aku bisa kembali ke masa lalu

Harta itu kayak pistol. Kalo kita sembarangaan ngasih pistol ke orang, tanpa dibimbing cara pemakaiannya dengan bijak, benda itu bisa merugikan pemegang dan orang di sekitarnya

I'd like to repair your elevator using only a kayak and a smile. If it's broken, my advice would be to remove the ducks and restart the waterfall.

Tuyul ini adalah makhluk halus--ia sudah mati tapi tampak hidup seperti anak normal. Hanya ia tidak bisa besar. Ia berada di alam kanak-kanak selamanya. Waduh, kan kayak Peter Pan?

Hubungan yang udah retak mau diperbaiki sebaik apapun tetap aja nggak akan sama kayak dulu lagi. Ibarat guci udah pecah mau dilem pake lem semahal apapun tetap aja kelihatan retaknya.

The property adjoined the bay, and when the tide came in it was possible to go kayaking, which some of the residents not yet disabled by their infirmities were happy to do. This is how I would like to live, thought Irina, taking deep breaths of the sweet aroma of pines and laurels.

Every single iceberg filled me with feelings of sadness and wonder. Not thoughts of sadness and wonder, mind you, because thoughts require a thinker, and my head was a balloon, incapable of thoughts. I didn't think about Dad, I didn't think about you, and, the big one, I didn't think about myself. The effect was like heroin (I think), and I wanted to stretch it out as long as possible. Even the simplest human interaction would send me crashing back to earthly thoughts. So I was the first one out in the morning, and the last one back. I only went kayaking, never stepped foot on the White Continent proper. I kept my head down, stayed in my room, and slept, but, mainly, I was. No racing heart, no flying thoughts.

Keimanan itu kayak wewangian, Lel. Kamu bisa mencium aromanya, tapi gak bisa mendefinisikan baunya. Dan biasanya, bakal makin gampang buat ngebahas wangi parfum tersebut dengan yang sama-sama udah nyium aromanya.

Lo berapa kali patah hati?'' ''berkali-kali' ''dan gue memakai bekas luka gue dengan bangga'' ''bekas luka?'' ''iya. kayak lo abis jatoh atau ketusuk piso, pasti ada bekas luka, kan? gue pakai semua bekas luka patah hati gue dengan bangga. sebagai pengingat bahwa gue pernah melalui semua dan masih hidup. keren, nggak?

Wilderness travel can be extremely taxing and dangerous. You can fall into a crevasse, flip your kayak, lose your way, become hypothermic, run out of food, or be killed by a bear. Far less violent events, however, are the common experience of most people who travel in wild landscapes. A sublime encounter with perhaps the most essential attribute of wilderness - falling into resonance with a system of unmanaged, non-human-centered relationships - can be as fulfilling as running a huge and difficult rapid. Sometimes they prove, indeed, to be the same thing.

The last frontier is not Alaska, outer space, the oceans, or the wonders of technology. It’s open-mindedness. Honor the land and its first nation peoples, and their ability to acquire wisdom, sustenance, and happiness from the wild plants and animals around them. Learn through story. Sleep on the ground. Listen. Travel by kayak and canoe.

Hidup itu kayak permainan. Kita yang memulai, kita yang memilih, kita yang menjalani, kita yang menentukan apakah di akhir kita bisa kalah atau justru jadi pemenangnya. Jadi, jangan kalah. Jangan kalah dalam permainan kalian sendiri. Jangan lupa untuk memeluk erat diri terlebih dulu sebelum memeluk orang lain. When you're happy with enough, You will be happier when you are with more. And you will be fine when you are with less. Terima kasih hari ini menerima diri sendiri.

To see what's beyond the horizon, we must paddle out, leave our familiar shores, and venture into the unknown.

When pressed, hunters who claim that they just want “to be out in the wilderness,” will admit that the kill is essential—or at least the hope of a kill. As it turns out, there is no correlation between hunting and hiking, climbing, backpacking, kayaking, or any other outdoor activity. Hunters do not purposefully linger in the woods after a kill, but quickly begin the process of preparing to head home with the corpse. For hunters, the kill is the climax—the most important moment. They are not driving into the woods (or sometimes actually walking) for the sake of beauty, but in the hope of a kill.

Alors que la lumière s'épuise de faire des trous dans les nuages, je me couche sur la plage, devant un feu de bois, les chiens contre le flanc, la kayak remonté de moitié sur la rive et, écoutant la musique de la houle, je regarde griller mes poissons embrochés sur des pics de bois vert en pensant que la vie ne devrait être que cela: l'hommage rendu par l'adulte à ses rêves d'enfant.

Nggak ada rasa yang cuma satu. Di balik benci pasti ada cinta, di balik cuek pasti ada sayang, masa di balik pahit aja nggak bisa ada rasa manis? Makanya, kamu harus tahu cara menikmatinya dulu. Hidup juga sama kayak kopi, kerasa pahit kalau nggak tahu cara menikmatinya.

Di dunia ini nggak mungkin ada dua orang, cowok-cewek bisa berteman dekat kalau salah satu dari mereka nggak ada yang naksir. Di antara sahabatan kayak gini, pasti ada yang naksir. Ya dalam kasus ini, gue. Kakak-adikan juga gitu, kan, biasanya. Orang-orang yang kakak-adikan itu, kan, karena salah satu suka, satu nggak suka tapi nggak pengin kehilangan.

Relationships weren’t ocean liners with stabilizers. They were flimsy affairs. No, they were more dangerous than canoes. They were kayaks, two-seaters that overturned with every careless comment, each intimation of indifference. You spend half the time upside down, under water. It takes a lot of skill to get right-side up before the relationship drowns.

too young to live, too old to die

In every heartbreak beauty intrudes.

It's just that sometimes," he said, "even when the right answer is smack in front of you, you got to reach deep inside yourself to act on it. You know what I'm sayin'?

Aku gak mau jadi sejarah ataupun kenangan dari orang yang aku cintai, Aku mau cinta yang biasa kayak kamu

Kamu tahu, Tris? Mungkin ini terdengar gila, tapi aku ingin hidup kamu kayak limit dari dua dibagi nol. Tak terhingga.

Teman datang dan pergi. Sahabat enggak akan ke mana-mana. Kamu, tuh, sudah kayak fairytale. Jadi sahabatku sejak once Upon a time sampai happily ever After

Aku bisa tahan semua rasa sakit tapi aku gak bisa lihat kamu sedih dan kesakitan kayak gini

Aku gak bakalan nyerah sampai kamu rasain apa yang aku rasain. Sampai kamu sayang sama aku kayak aku sayang sama kamu

Biasanya cowok itu kalau ceweknya lagi mellow dimanjain, disayang-sayang. Gak kayak kamu malah dikata-katain

Sweet baby pigeons in a kayak, my new boss was an Adonis.

Cinta itu nggak butuh kata - kata muluk kayak yang lo lakuin barusan. Cinta itu nyata dan berdasarkan tindakan, Lo nggak akan pernah nyerah atas hidup orang yang punya arti sangat besar buat lo

Waterhouse’s new roommate is out of town just now, but by glancing over his personal effects, Waterhouse estimates that he is paddling a black kayak from Australia to Yokosuka Naval Base, where he will slip on board a battleship and silently kill its entire crew with his bare hands before doing an Olympic-qualifying dive into the bay, punching out a few sharks, climbing back into his kayak and paddling back to Australia for a beer.

Itu sama aja kayak iklan-iklan kartu prabayar handphone di tivi. Banyak provider yang nawarin SMS gratislah, telpon gratislah, tapi ujung-ujungnya tetap aja kita harus bayar. Kalo ada yang bener-bener gratis pun layanannya bisa dipastiin ngejengkelin banget. Yang sering trouble-lah, gak ada jaringanlah. Atau, kalo gak, gratisnya pada jam-jam drakula keluyuran gitu: mulai jam satu malam sampe jam lima subuh. Emangnya mau telepon-teleponan sama kuntilanak?

We are not here to exist; we are here to live, to face death and stare it down. We are here to trust in God and to embrace this world in all its quiet and violent beauty, to break down the walls of our own prejudices and believe in something greater than ourselves. We are here to paddle into our worst fears and come out the other side to discover glaciers, to meet them face-to-face, and to celebrate a sense of wonder and God's plan that we find only in Nature.

wherever they live, travel, hike, swim, fish, dive, kayak, or trek, they risk being confronted by something capable of doing them in with tooth, fang, claw, jaw, or stinger, and yet there is no public clamor to eradicate any animal because of the peril it poses to the human population. australians have learned to coexist in relative peace with nearly everything, and when occasionally a human life is lost to an animal, the public usually reacts philosophically.

My advice is that you take a couple of days off—go fishing, go kayaking, do a jigsaw puzzle—and then go to work on something else. Something shorter, preferably, and something that’s a complete change of direction and pace from your newly finished book.

The Greenland fjords are peculiar for the spells of completely quiet weather, when there is not enough wind to blow out a match and the water is like a sheet of glass. The kayak hunter must sit in his boat without stirring a finger so as not to scare the shy seals away. Actually, he can only move his eyes, as even the slightest move otherwise might mean game lost. The sun, low in the sky, sends a glare into his eyes, and the landscape around moves into the realm of the unreal. The reflex from the mirror-like water hypnotizes him, he seems to be unable to move, and all of a sudden it is as if he were floating in a bottomless void, sinking, sinking, and sinking.... Horror-stricken, he tries to stir, to cry out, but he cannot, he is completely paralyzed, he just falls and falls.

Menikah itu ternyata nggak hanya berdua, tapi juga keluarga besar. Coba gue tahu itu dari dulu. Bayangin aja, dulu gue dirawat baik-baik ama bokap-nyokap gue, tapi sama mertua diperlakukan semena-mena kayak sapi perah. Maunya anaknya diperlakukan baik, tapi lupa memperlakukan anak orang juga sama baiknya

Wilderness areas are places to explore deeply yet lightly; to exercise freedom but also restraint, to manage but also leave alone, to bring us face-to-face with a dilemma in our democracy. How do we convince people to save something they may never see, touch, or hear? A starving man can’t eat his illusions, let alone his principles.

But in the time since she died, I have been aware, every minute, of my love for her. She lives in my love.

I watched clouds awobbly from the floor o’ that kayak. Souls cross ages like clouds cross skies, an’ tho’ a cloud’s shape nor hue nor size don’t stay the same, it’s still a cloud an’ so is a soul. Who can say where the cloud’s blowed from or who the soul’ll be ’morrow? Only Sonmi the east an’ the west an’ the compass an’ the atlas, yay, only the atlas o’ clouds.

Mulut manusia itu persis seperti genre novel, ada fiksi, biografi (pencitraan), terkadang horor, drama (terlalu dilebih-lebihkan), kerjaannya ngerayu sok romance, kayak fabel yang tiap ngumpul ngomongin burung melulu, gak pernah serius kayak comedy atau gak nyambung seabstrak fiction sci-fi, ada magic yang ngomongnya diada-adain padahal enggak ada, tapi juga ada yang true story.

Do you work a job that slowly kills you so you can afford health coverage to pay medical expenses? Or do you live right with the earth and make your own way, keep things simple, and take care of yourself?

Human makes love difficult and painful. Karena manusia tuh makhluk paling egois sejagad raya. Manusia mengasosiasikan 'mencintai' dengan 'memiliki' orang yang kita cintai, merasa butuh untuk selalu dekat dan selalu sama-sama mereka. Padahal nggak gitu. Cinta seharusnya nggak kayak gitu. Cinta itu membebaskan dan membiarkan orang yang kita cintai merasa bebas untuk membalas, atau nggak membalas cinta dari kita. Topher

I almost never like things some people think everyone likes. I do not like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I do not like paddling a kayak in the hot sun. I do not like Santa Claus. I do not like it when someone takes out a guitar and everyone has to sing. I do not like standing in a cheering crowd, particularly if the crowd is watching people whose job it is to throw a ball throw a ball. I do not like a picture of a man on a horse. I do not like it when everybody is doing the same thing and someone is standing with a stopwatch waiting to give a prize to the person who finishes doing it first. I do not like hot chocolate and I do not like wearing a shirt or a hat with the name of a place written on it so everyone knows you have been to that place, and I am not a fan of raisins, so I am often frowning at the music in the supermarket.

Kita kan sering begitu, ya? Melihat orang atau pasangan yang hidupnya kelihatan seru dan bahagia banget, apakah itu orang yang kita kenal langsung atau sekadar yang kita ikuti hidupnya lewat Twitter atau Instagram, dan kita dengan cepatnya berkomentar, 'Pengin deh kayak kalian', atau 'iri banget deh sama kalian', tanpa kita benar-benar tahu sebenarnya kehidupan orang itu seperti apa. We didn't know what we really wished for.

Never mind that travelling by kayak from Victoria Land to Australia was assured suicide, or that camping on an iceberg was at best ill-advised. Scrawling furiously in his cabin by candlelight, Amundsen was more focused than ever on writing his own legend. When, a few weeks later, an iceberg in a nearby clearing suddenly flipped on its side with a tremendous roar, Amundsen wrote, "I will not allow my plan to spend the winter on an iceberg to be influenced by this.

Where was our language of reverence? Of sacredness? Every year in America we add hundreds of words to our dictionaries that describe our infatuation with pop culture and technology, but none that describe a deepening regard for the natural world.

Urang awak sekarang sudah lupa adat, tidak beradat lagi. Pemangku adat dan datuk-datuk telah pergi jauh merantau. Atau membeli gelar datuk untuk ikut kampanye. Lalu yang telah sukses di rantau tidak mau pulang kampung. Mereka merantau cina, merantau untuk tak kembali. Hilang tidak berbekas, tidak peduli kampung. Sudah kayak layang-layang putus urang awak ini. Awalnya hanya terbawa angin kian-kemari, lalu putus dari benangnya. Tersangkut entah di mana. Kita tak punya pegangan apa pun lagi.

Perhaps I am here because of last night’s dream, when I stood on the frozen lake before a kayak made of sealskin. I walked on the ice toward the boat and picked up a handful of shredded hide and guts. An old Eskimo man said, “You have much to work with.” Suddenly, the kayak was stripped of its skin. It was a rib cage of willow. It was the skeleton of a fish. I want to see it for myself, wild exposure, in January, when this desert is most severe. The lake is like steel. I wrap my alpaca shawl tight around my face until only my eyes are exposed. I must keep walking to stay warm. Even the land is frozen. There is no give beneath my feet. I want to see the lake as Woman, as myself, in her refusal to be tamed. The State of Utah may try to dike her, divert her waters, build roads across her shores, but ultimately, it won’t matter. She will survive us. I recognize her as a wilderness, raw and self-defined. Great Salt Lake strips me of contrivances and conditioning, saying, “I am not what you see. Question me. Stand by your own impressions.” We are taught not to trust our own experiences. Great Salt Lake teaches me experience is all we have.

I hate the Fourth of July. The early middle age of summer. Everything is alive and kicking for now, but the eventual decline into fall has already set itself in motion. Some of the lesser shrubs and bushes, seared by the heat, are starting to resemble a bad peroxide job. The heat reaches a blazing peak, but summer is lying to itself, burning out like some alcoholic genius. And you start to wonder - what have I done with June? The poorest of the lot - the Vladeck House project dwellers who live beneath my co-op - seem to take summer in stride; they groan and sweat, drink the wrong kind of lager, make love, the squat children completing mad circles around them by foot or mountain bike. But for the more competitive of New Yorkers, even for me, the summer is there to be slurped up. We know summer is the height of being alive. We don’t believe in God or the prospect of an afterlife mostly, so we know that we’re only given eighty summers or so per lifetime, and each one has to be better than the last, has to encompass a trip to that arts center up at Bard, a seemingly mellow game of badminton over at some yahoo’s Vermont cottage, and a cool, wet, slightly dangerous kayak trip down an unforgiving river. Otherwise, how would you know that you have lived summertime best? What if you missed out on some morsel of shaded nirvana?

We liked our grandparents. We liked our uncle and our aunt. They had known our dad and our brother Ben. They had some of the same memories we did. Sometimes they even brought things up, like, “Remember when your dad went out in the kayak at Aspen Lake and he flipped over and we had to save him in our paddleboat?” and we would all start laughing because we had the same picture in our minds, my dad with his sunglasses dangling from one ear and his hair all wet. And they knew that Ben’s favorite kind of ice cream wasn’t ice cream at all, it was rainbow sherbet, and he always ate green first, and so when I saw it in my grandma’s freezer once and I started crying they didn’t even ask why and I think I saw my uncle Nick, my mom’s brother, crying too.

The name Mary Jo Quinn was written neatly in faded blue marker on the front of the scrapbook, its gray edges frayed with age and wear, as though it had been handled often. Such a memento was a strange thing to find in a used bookstore, especially when one considered its contents. I’d discovered the handmade tome buried on the bottom shelf on the back wall of a little musty-smelling shop in the tiny resort town of Copper Harbor. This picturesque community is the gateway to Isle Royale National Park, an island in the western quarter of Lake Superior that beckoned to hikers, kayakers and canoers. Copper Harbor is the northern-most bastion of civilization in Michigan on a crooked finger of land called the Keweenaw Peninsula. Its remote, pristine shoreline provided an excellent respite from a hellacious year for my best friend from high school and me on a late September weekend.

Returning the Pencil to Its Tray Everything is fine— the first bits of sun are on the yellow flowers behind the low wall, people in cars are on their way to work, and I will never have to write again. Just looking around will suffice from here on in. Who said I had to always play the secretary of the interior? And I am getting good at being blank, staring at all the zeroes in the air. It must have been all the time spent in the kayak this summer that brought this out, the yellow one which went nicely with the pale blue life jacket— the sudden, tippy buoyancy of the launch, then the exertion, striking into the wind against the short waves, but the best was drifting back, the paddle resting athwart the craft, and me mindless in the middle of time. Not even that dark cormorant perched on the No Wake sign, his narrow head raised as if he were looking over something, not even that inquisitive little fellow could bring me to write another word.

I had never been to the Amazon, my jungle experience had mostly come from Central America with some short trips to Borneo, but the Amazon undoubtedly had a mystique all of its own. Surely the trees would be much bigger, the wildlife had to be much richer and more diverse and the people would be that bit wilder and cut off from the outside world. It gave me butterflies to think of spending time in the Amazon. Not knowing the geography of the area in any detail, my dreams were restricted to what I did know. There was a ruddy great river that virtually crossed the whole continent from west to east, and…that was about it. I had heard of expeditions that had kayaked the entire river from source to sea – phenomenal endurance feats taking five-plus months – the problem was I was a rubbish kayaker. Sure, I’d done a bit on the canals in England as a Cub Scout but that cold, depressing experience had been enough to put me off for life. What a dull, miserable sport, instructed by overenthusiastic dickheads in stupid helmets.

To the wreck hunters," Orion said, raising his water bottle, "And to whale songs." "To truthing," said Liv. "To tea leaves," said Felix. We kept toasting: To Fidelia and Ransome. To the rest of the Lyric passengers whose bones has been picked clean by fish. To adventures. Our voices overlapped and were indistinguishable. To baseball caps, to Patsy Cline. To whiskey and blow jobs and cunnilingus, birth control, treasure, no treasure, sleeping bags, bug spray, headphones, and crosswords. "To family," I called. "Surviving," said Sam. "Please can you keep it down!" yelled a voice from inside the kayakers' tent. "To angry, reluctant chaperones," Mariah stage-whispered. We all collapsed into stifled giggles, then put out the fire and trekked down to the beach to stage an impromtu, perfectly imperfect reading of Cousteau! by cell-phone light. Same had brought the latest printout of the script with him. That night, it didn't matter what had come before and what was going to come after. In that moment, we were the last true poets of the sea, and what mattered more than anything else was our quest.

When pressed, hunters who claim that they just want “to be out in the wilderness,” will admit that the kill is essential—or at least the hope of a kill. As it turns out, there is no correlation between hunting and hiking, climbing, backpacking, kayaking, or any other outdoor activity. Hunters do not purposefully linger in the woods after a kill, but quickly begin the process of preparing to head home with the corpse. For hunters, the kill is the climax—the most important moment. They are not driving into the woods (or sometimes actually walking) for the sake of beauty, but in the hope of a kill. The kill can be likened to male orgasm. Sex is traditionally thought to be over when the man has an orgasm, and the hunt is never so decisively over as it is after a successful kill. As a teacher, I impatiently listened to a young man matter-of-factly defend the importance of hunting because he found the experience “orgasmic.” From his point of view, all that mattered was how exciting and wonderful the experience was for him. The “side affects” of the man’s preferred action—the experience of the deer (and the woman)—are deemed to be so irrelevant that they are not even mentioned.

Damian smirks. “Why don’t you tell him what we were discussing, Keats? Peyton and I are going to kayak for a bit.” When Peyton walks out of the house, Damian jumps up, kisses her in greeting, then grabs her hand and pulls her toward the boat.   Aiden puts his smoothie glass against mine. “This is really good. So, what were you talking about?” “Seeing a, um, penis for the first time.” “Is it an embarrassing story?” “No, I just . . . it’s just hard to comprehend the mechanics of sex when you’re young and you see it in its, um, natural state.” “Natural state? Like, out in the wild?” “No, not in the wild. I saw a boy’s—” I wave my hand slowly across my body. “— in its natural state.” “As opposed to its unnatural state?” “Its, um, softer state,” I finally say, trying not to think about how his felt in my hand. How I wanted to rip those sliders off his body. Touch it. Feel it. Taste it.   He leans in. “You’re thinking about last night right now, aren’t you?” I feel my cheeks turn red. Why am I such a prude about sex when it comes to Aiden? You’d think I’d never done it before. “I, uh . . .” Aiden arches an eyebrow at me. “Maybe tonight you can see it in its, uh, unnatural state,” he says with a laugh as he kisses my cheek.

Üç yıl önce kayak yapmak için dağa gitmiştim. Baharda gündüz eriyen kar, gece don tutar. Yerler buz keser. Sabah bir arkadaşımla dağın tepesinden kayarak iniyorduk. Aniden yuvarlandım yere, arka üstü düştüm ve aşağıya doğru neredeyse yüz metre sürüklendim. Vücudumda yara, kırık veya incinme yoktu. Tekrar kaymak istemiş fakat yapamamıştım. Sanki kaymaya ilk başladığım acemilik haline dönmüş, kaymakla ilgili tüm becerilerim hafızamdan uçup gitmişti o an. Bilgisayarın yere düşünce hard diskindeki bütün verilerinin silinmesi gibi. Ertesi gün çok iyi kayan bir arkadaşım, 'Sen beni izle, peşimden gel,' deyip bana güven verdi. O önden yavaş yavaş kayıyor, ben onu takip ediyordum. Dağılan parçalarımı tekrar topladım o gün, yol aldıkça kaygım yavaş yavaş söndü, güvenim yerine geldikçe eski kayma hünerime yeniden kavuştum. Buraya gelirken o anı hatırladım. Şimdi de sanki aynı şeye ihtiyaç duyuyorum. Gitmek isteyip de korktuğum yoldan daha önce güvenle geçmiş birini arıyorum. Birinin varoluş okyanusunun ortasındaki adama gelip, 'Evet, seni anlıyorum', demesine ihtiyacım var. Karışan saçları tarakla açmak gibi. Hayatımdaki karmaşayı düzene sokacak bir tarağa ihtiyacım var benim. Size de bunun için geldim. Ruhumda sıkı sıkıya atılmış düğümler var. Bu düğümler içimde anlayamadığım bir öfke doğuruyor. Yaratıcıdan başlayıp kendime, sonra da bütün nesnelere yayılan bir öfke.

Nevaeh- I believe I am never going to go around with little dreams anymore, I will not have a contained mind; I am always going to be positive if I can, and dream big. Knowing that it all can, and will be coming true if only I believe that it will. I know that I should never get stuck in a rut, for the reason that I do not know the whole plan that has been set for me. When you think like this, you can, and will break forth; this is when you will see an increase and praise. I hope that all our dreams come true, and we can all start anew. I hope that we can think, all our choices. Now I am hoping that I can let you know that, you have an angel too. I hope that everything is going to work out for you. The angels will save you and me, in times that we are on our knees. I hope the tower and its clans will forever let me be. I hope that everything will be understood so all of you can see. (About six months back) Nevaeh- The night that I was saved differently, I am only sixteen but the time is right. I could not stand living here another day or night, in ‘The Land of Many Steeples’ in the house of lost and lonely dreams, it was time for me to spread my wings and fly away from this land of misery. The day finally came and he saved me from the hell that is part of my existence. The boxy chariot with its small oblong taillights arrived near my doorstep. He greeted me with the presence of compassion. For I was looking down from the window, yes it was supposed to just be another date night. Yes, he arrived to sweep me off my feet once again and take me away. Hope was not very pleased with the onset of him being in my life… But there was nothing she could do. At last, I was content, and that is all that mattered. She would not let me go on my dates, so I waited around until it was night outside, and she was asleep! That is when I would sneak out, and get away for a while, with him. Yet I think I got pregnant on date number one, yet I am not sure. (Looking back) I remember all the dates; we would drive through the town at night, and do all kinds of wild things. Besides, look at the stars in the back of his ford bronco truck with a blanket at our spot, as the baby was asleep inside of me, this was about four months ago, or so. (The first days together as a couple.) Some of our dates started right after my school day, he would come and get me, and I would not come home until my curfew or not at all. We did not have much money, yet we always had fun just being together. Like this one time, we went kayaking in our swimsuits on the gently flowing river, and then afterward we had a picnic lunch, simple dates, but always fun. Yeah, that is right, we only had three normal dates before; I know I was indeed going to have a baby. Our craziness slowed down a lot after that fact, yet we still went out.

The next year, British swimmer and ecologist Lewis Gordon Pugh set out from the northern island of Spitzbergen to kayak 1,200 km to the North Pole. His journey was intended to raise awareness about the melting arctic ice. But he was forced to stop after only 135 kilometers (km), blocked by arctic sea ice.

Informed criticism is one thing, ignorant abuse quite another.

Take the gun!’ I turned round and saw an enormous bear throwing itself on him, and Johansen on his back. I tried to seize my gun, which was in its case on the fore-deck, but at the same moment the kayak slipped into the water.

LEADERSHIP | Intuit’s CEO on Building a Design-Driven Company Brad Smith | 222 words Although 46 similar products were on the market when Intuit launched Quicken, in 1983, it immediately became the market leader in personal finance software and has held that position for three decades. That’s because Quicken was so well designed that using it is intuitive. But by the time Smith became CEO, in 2008, the company had become overly focused on adding incremental features that delivered ease of use but not delight. What was missing was an emotional connection with customers. He and his team set out to integrate design thinking into every part of Intuit. They changed the layout of the office, reduced the number of cubes, and added more collaboration spaces and places for impromptu work. They increased the number of designers by nearly 600% and now hold quarterly design conferences. They bring in people who have created exceptionally designed products, such as the Nest thermostat and the Kayak travel website, to share insights with Intuit employees. The company acquired one start-up, called Mint, and collaborates with another, called ZenPayroll, to improve customer experience. Although most people don’t think of financial software as a category driven by emotion or design, Smith writes, Intuit’s D4D (“design for delight”) program has paid off. For example, its SnapTax app, inspired by consumers’ migration to smartphones, led one user to write, “I want this app to have my babies.

To the east the land was darkening. Night does not fall. It rises from the earth as the sun sinks low, sets, and embraces the land with its shadow. How could I describe this place? Words could only be read and the scene imagined. Even a photo could only be seen. It would not include the sound of the water on the stones, the scent of the spruce trees, the coolness of sea wrack under my hand, or the weary satisfaction of just sitting there after paddling six hours that day, and six weeks before that. The size of these islets and their details of sand, shell and rock beach, grass, driftwood, and flowers, the small woods back of the shore – these are proportioned to kayaks and close-ups, not big cruise ships or ferries. Those get a far outline of the shore, but their only close-ups are of the docks and the towns. This country is made for the pace of a kayak.

So I saw that there is nothing better for men than that they should be happy in their work, for that is what they are here for, and no one can bring them back to life to enjoy what will be in the future, so let them enjoy it now. —Ecclesiastes 3:22 (TLB) Recently, I learned that a book on friendship that I’d written with my best friend, Melanie, was rejected by a publisher who had been very positive about it for over two years. I was devastated. All those months and years of writing, rewriting, and then reworking it again…only to have it rejected in the end. I was ready to give up my career altogether, retire, and concentrate on biking, swimming, kayaking, and traveling. Then I read something my pen pal Oscar had written about his own retirement twenty-five years earlier. He wrote that in retirement we must have direction and purpose, accept change, remain curious and confident, communicate, and be committed. The longer I looked at his list, the more it spoke to me. Why, those are the very attributes I need to be a good writer, I thought. So I decided to buckle down and rework other unsold manuscripts I’d written over the years. Using Oscar’s plan of direction, purpose, confidence, and commitment helped me to stop telling people that I didn’t have any marketing genes and to keep busy rewriting and looking for different publishers. I may never sell all of my work, but I’m living a life filled with purpose. And I’m a whole lot happier in my semiretirement than if I was just playing every day, all day. Father, give me purpose in life whether it’s volunteer work, pursuing dreams, reworking an old career, or finding a new way to use the talents You’ve given me. —Patricia Lorenz Digging Deeper: Prv 16:9; Rom 12:3–8

The point was the most dangerous place we would have to negotiate in the kayak. It was also a great confluence of life, and this combination of peril and substance sent the spirit spinning off into various ethereal regions, in which a man might be tempted to commit philosophy. From Baha by Kayak

Two German kayakers arrive from the north at nightfall. They set up camp on the cape beach, about a third of a mile from the cabin, and come up to recharge their equipment on my solar batteries. We have to look at their photos, their films, exchange e-mail addresses. When you meet someone nowadays, right after the handshake and a quick glance you write down the website and blog information. Conversation has given way to a session in front of the screen. Afterwards, you won’t remember faces or tones of voice, but you’ll have cards with scribbled numbers. Human society’s dream has come true: we rub our antennae together like ants. One day we’ll just take a sniff.

Playboy: ¿Está realmente en nuestras manos? O, como parece que aboga por la utilización de los ordenadores para manipular el futuro de culturas enteras, ¿no está realmente alentando al hombre a que renuncie al control de su destino? McLuhan: Antes que todo —y me sabe mal tener que insistir en este descargo de responsabilidad—, yo no abogo por nada; sólo sondeo y preveo tendencias. Aunque me opusiera a ellas o pensara que son catastróficas, no podría pararlas; así pues, ¿por qué tendría que perder mi tiempo lamentándome? Cuando la escritora Margaret Fuller comentó «acepto el universo», Carlyle dijo de ella: «más le vale». No veo ninguna posibilidad de una rebelión ludita global que destruya la maquinaria, así que podemos sentarnos cómodamente, ver qué pasa y contemplar lo que nos pasará en un mundo cibernético. Estar resentidos con una nueva tecnología no detendrá el proceso de ésta. Lo importante que debemos recordar es que en cualquier momento que utilizamos o percibimos una ampliación tecnológica de nosotros mismos, inevitablemente la acogemos. Siempre que vemos una pantalla de televisión o leemos un libro, estamos asimilando esas ampliaciones de nosotros mismos dentro de nuestro sistema individual y experimentando un «cierre» automático o desplazamiento de la percepción; no podemos huir de esta acogida perpetua de nuestra tecnología cotidiana a no ser que escapemos de la tecnología misma y huyamos a la cueva de un ermitaño. Al acoger de forma consistente todas estas tecnologías, inevitablemente nos relacionamos con ellas como servomecanismos. Así, para poder utilizarlas todas, primero debemos servirles como si fueran dioses. El esquimal es un servomecanismo de su kayak, el vaquero de su caballo, el hombre de negocios de su reloj, el cibernético —y pronto el mundo entero— de su ordenador. Por decirlo de otra forma, a los despojos pertenece el ganador. Esta modificación continua del hombre por parte de su propia tecnología lo alienta a encontrar medios constantes para modificarla; el hombre se convierte, pues, en los órganos sexuales del mundo de las máquinas, como lo es la abeja en relación al mundo botánico, permitiéndole reproducirse y evolucionar hacia formas más elevadas. El mundo de las maquinas corresponde la devoción del hombre premiándole con bienes, servicios y recompensa. La relación entre el hombre y su maquinaría es, pues, intrínsecamente simbiótica. Siempre ha sido así; el hombre cuenta con la oportunidad de reconocer su unión con su propia tecnología sólo en la era eléctrica. La tecnología eléctrica es una extensión cualitativa de la relación hombre/máquina; la relación del hombre del siglo xx con el ordenador no es, por naturaleza muy distinta a la relación que mantenía el hombre prehistórico con su barco o su rueda —con la importante diferencia que todas las tecnologías o extensiones del hombre previas eran parciales y fragmentarias, mientras que la eléctrica es total e inclusiva—. Ahora el hombre está empezando a llevar puesto su cerebro fuera del cráneo y sus nervios fuera de su piel; la nueva tecnología cría un nuevo hombre. Una viñeta reciente mostraba un niño que le decía a su madre desconcertada: «De mayor seré un ordenador». El humor es a menudo profético.

I looked at my watch; it was one forty-five, only an hour and change before the conference with Cody’s teacher. I looked back at Patrick, bobbing there so insolently on his pilfered kayak, and the sight of him tripped a switch in the sinister clockwork machinery of Dexter’s bleak brain. A wheel chunked into gear and hit a lever that tipped a metal plate over and onto a fulcrum that thumped into a shiny cold ball so it rolled down the chute and into the “out” basket, and I picked it up, held it in my hand, and heard it whisper, There is just enough time. And there would be.

Virgin Sands I kayaked to the far side of the island, too remote for the fishermen’s cast. Her virgin sands blistered white by the sun molded my footprints like a first kiss pressed upon her heated lips. I swam until my lungs heaved in exhausted bliss and I laid my body upon her timeless sands. She caressed me, stroked her fingers through my hair and let the salt water trickle on my lap. I closed my eyes. The sun beat brighter beneath my lids as I contemplated all the beaches where I had been and how none could compare to this one. The setting sun aroused me. Night fell impetuously. I made my bed in a deserted hut on piles of heather and tall grasses and though the stars signaled to me in glittery seduction and though the ocean flirted with me in breathy song, that night I dreamt only I dreamt only of my beach.

Oke, kamu sudah connect. Ini channel-nya asyik. Gaul abis. Oh, ya, nick kamu sengaja saya bikin tetap Elektra. Pasti laku. Percaya, deh. Nama kamu komersial." "Memang yang komersial itu yang kayak apa?" tanyaku. "Yang funky, yang cool, pokoknya yang, ya, gimana gitu." Jawaban Betsye semakin membingungkan. "Lho, jadi, kamu biasanya nggak pakai nama sendiri?" aku terus bertanya. "Nggak, dong!" Ia mengeluarkan tawa kecil yang bernada oh-gobloknya-lu-Etra. "Saya biasa pakai Nadya, Nathalie, Natasya. Kata cowokku, yang nama depannya dari 'Na' biasanya cakep-cakep." "Nanang? Nasrul? Nano? Nasgor?" Betsy tidak tertawa.

time. A new interdisciplinary community of scientists, environmentalists, health researchers, therapists, and artists is coalescing around an idea: neuroconservation. Embracing the notion that we treasure what we love, those concerned with water and the future of the planet now suggest that, as we understand our emotional well-being and its relationship to water, we are more motivated to repair, restore, and renew waterways and watersheds. Indeed, even as water is threatened, or perhaps because of the threat, public interest in water is very high. We treasure it—or, perhaps more accurately, we spend our treasure to access water for pleasure, recreation, and healing. Wealthy people pay a premium for houses on water, and the not so wealthy pay extra for rentals and hotel rooms sited at the oceanfront, on rivers, or at lakes. Those into outdoor sports, especially fishers and hunters, are fiercely protective of it and have founded numerous environmental organizations designed to protect water habitats for fish, birds, and animals. Over the last two decades, spas have become a sort of modern equivalent to ancient healing wells. As an industry, spas are a global business worth about $60 billion, and they generate another $200 billion in tourism. In 2013, there were 20,000 (up from 4,000 in 1999) spas in the United States producing an annual revenue of over $14 billion (a figure that has grown every year for fifteen years, including those of the recession), and tallying 164 million spa visits by clients.12 Ecotourism provides water adventures and guided trips, often in kayaks, rafts, or canoes. Ocean and river cruises are big business. Cities are creating urban architectures focused on waterscapes, happiness, and sustainability. Museums and public memorials of all sorts often feature water to foster reflection and meditation. And many communities are working to transform industrialized and polluted waterfronts into spaces that are pleasant, environmentally sound, and livable.

Culture completely changes the way that human evolution works, but not because culture is learned. Rather, the capital fact is that human-style social learning creates a novel evolutionary trade-off. Social learning allows human populations to accumulate reservoirs of adaptive information over many generations, leading to the cumulative cultural evolution of highly adaptive behaviors and technology. Because this process is much faster than genetic evolution, it allows human populations to evolve (culturally) adaptions to local environments - kayaks in the arctic and blowguns in the Amazon [...] To get the benefits of social learning, humans have to be credulous, for the most part accepting the ways that they observe in their society as sensible and proper, but such credulity opens human minds to the spread of maladaptive beliefs. The problem is one of information costs. The advantage of culture is that individuals don't have to invent everything for themselves. We get adaptions like kayaks and blowguns on the cheap. The trouble is that a greed for such easy adaptive traditions easily leads to perpetuating maladaptions that somehow arise. Even though the capacities that give rise to culture and shape its content must be (or at least have been) adaptive on average, the behavior observed in any particular society at any particular time may reflect evolved maladaptions. Empirical evidence for the predicted maladaptions are not hard to find. [...] The spread of such maladaptive ideas is a predictable by-product of cultural transmission.

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I just want to go kayaking in the Florida Keys, get a black lab, grow tomatoes, have a life.

Our frustration with others is always greatest when we're frustrated with ourselves.