KeithWikle.com

Last post got me to thinking about the defining moments in any young man’s life. I am blessed in my own way to know what that moment was in my father’s life, or at least what he has told me that moment was. And in sharing that moment with me, I have a better grasp on what it means.

My dad, born in Minneapolis Minnesota in 1946 to Keith Gordon Wikle and Lucille Poole Wikle September 14th. My grandfather was pursuing his Phd at the University of Minnesota in Metalurgical Engineering. After completing his studies the family finally settled in Oak Harbor Ohio. My dad had what I would call the prototypical late 50’s early 60’s small town experience. He decided to pursue the Navy and an engineering degree like his father at the University of Michigan. But pretty soon he realized that he had neither the inclination or the interest in engineering and switched to business. Joined a fraternity (sigh), Sigma Chi, now banned on campus in Ann Arbor. He met my mom Sandra Reimer, from Gross Pointe Michigan, his freshman year. And they began dating pretty quickly.

In the summer preceding his senior year, 1967 the summer of love. The year before he would ship out as an ensign in the US Navy to Vietnam, my dad decided to ride cross country on his 1962 Triumph T100. He left Ann Arbor in late May with my grandpa’s gas card and a change of clothes. He set out like Ulyssess into the west. And this trip is the one I always hear him talk about. Those moments from the trip that come first in his mind, at least from all outward appearances. The long flat expanse of the plains on the first few days, the climb through the rockies, or ultimately; riding across death valley through a sandstorm. He always describes with particular relish how he left the desert with one side of his body sunburnt. He watched in slow wonder as the sand blasted the british racing green paint off the gas tank during that long day in the sun.

I’m sure there’s more to it than this… But all young people have that one road trip that stands out like no other, and his from the sounds of it was one heck of a road trip. He always talks about doing it again when he’s retired. I hope he gets to do it.

What those moments mean to him I can only speculate. But I can say what I think they meant. He got to roar over the country on a sweet bike for a summer before life took over. He got to be a rebel for a short while before becoming Lieutenant K Wikle for four years. Not that I think he regretted his military decision. But he’s always been a respectable rebel in a lot of ways. And maybe I want that too. His views on life always crack me up, he votes republican categorically but is socially liberal in every way that makes people who are republican cringe. I guess I am pretty far left of the line, but what do you expect from a guy who read Gramsci?

If I ask myself what my defining moments were prior to family, responsibility, jobs, houses, wives anything, I’m not sure what I would list at the moment. It seems there are so many lost moments prior to Laura, Gabriel, and Isabella. Certainly the time I spent abroad stands out as one of my biggies, but maybe they just set me up for later events.

Maybe another list is in order I dunno?

In the icelandic sagas, the characters have particular concern for the thinning of the blood from their fathers. Sons tried to measure up to fathers. And it was considered very grave if men failed the muster of their genealogy. Or if their fathers were particularly bad men, they did everything possible to break the bad blood with some great deed.

We all wonder if we measure up to the deeds and feats of our parents. Or if maybe we are the runt of the breed. My drive for certain physical and intellectual accomplishments has grounds in this.

My father turns 60 this year, and I can’t say if I measure up or not? Certainly I feel like I have some things under my belt. But I wonder if there is some final accomplishment that will put me at ease with myself, or if I will always feel as if I am a visitor in Valhalla?

What feat will grant me acceptance into that personal valhalla?
A marathon under 3:30?
An elbow roll?
Surfing the biggest waves out there?
Another book?
Raising a decent family?

I don’t know?

Top 5 reasons to paddle.
Ok these are my thoughts on the subject and are somewhat didactic and maybe even contradictory.

1. Paddling is linear and analog. Very few things are these days. It gives no regard to hurry, or any other timetable other than wind, sun, moon, and stars. Like Peter Fonda in Easy Rider, your watch can be cast aside at the beginning of the journey. Granted you can get digital with GPS, digital watches, ala Doug Adams. But these things serve as needless fetishistic artifacts to an acitivity that defies the improvements of technology. In other words you can digitally track how slow you are moving, but it doesn’t change the fact that the average paddling speed is 3-4 knots unless you are Greg Barton. This brings me to number 2.
2. Speed. Speed is dictated by the first reason to paddle, which is that you go as exactly as fast as the effort put into paddling. Relatively speaking. No more no less. One could try to hurry, but really you can’t. It just can’t be rushed. You can go faster than 3-4 knots for fun, but is it really that much faster? How does 5-6 knots over the arc of a 10 day trip matter? It doesn’t. It typically means you aren’t seeing anything up close. Because Americans drive everywhere we hold no value to the energy spent to get there. Fiduciary effort burnt in fossil fuels just isn’t the same as calorie effort. Ask the nearest person with an SUV who is carrying 20 pounds or more of extra weight but would like to be thinner what that means. So I think overall there is something to be said for getting everywhere under your own power. While this sounds slightly pontificatory, I recognize that I drive to the beach to launch the kayak. And if could move Kalamazoo to the shore of a great lake, I would. But there’s only so much one man can do, or pontificate about.
3. Paddling is geographically specific. In a world where so much can be virtualized without context for location, paddling cannot be virtualized. One cannot Net meeting, phone conference in, or email a paddling experience. It is completely and inescapably linked to location. Also because paddling takes place in an area where people tend not to live (on the surface of the water) it is different than what I look at all day long. The Lake Michigan Shore line is not a great example though where houses along the dunes are the norm rather than the exception and the lake shore experience has been commodified to the extreme by some insipid breed of weasle/monkey hybrid from illinois that resists erradication. But maybe a new ice age might change this.
4. Learning all of the skills necessary to become truly effecient and seaworthy in a kayak is hard. Anything difficult requires effort and determination. Effort and determination take time, and time invested in something difficult reward the individual with a sense of accomplishment and confidence. This sense of accomplishment and confidence can also be thwarted by the sea, and the individual’s own stupidity, which is another post entirely. But for instance being able to stay upright and downwind on an icy 6 foot wave is not something everyone can do, or wants to do, much less repeatedly. Skills are really their own reward.
5. Backpacking is for suckers.