Bobberman!

     I bought an inflatable kayak a few months ago. It's a part of my exercise regimen - at least that's what I tell myself. Riding a bike gives my legs a good workout, but my upper body needs serious help. If I can paddle enough, I'm thinkin' I'll look like one of those cartoon superheros, with bulging muscles, both top and bottom. 
     The kayak to perform my transformation is a SeaEagle FastTrack 385. I would have felt better if it had a higher number like 'FastTrack 1000', but for some unknown reason, the FastTrack line only goes up to FastTrack 485. It rolls up into a duffel bag and I can keep it in my trunk. I can take it out on a moments notice, and in ten minutes, I'm on the water. I believe it could even be assembled in a phone booth.

The Bobbermobile heads out on a new bobber rescue mission.

     Medicine Lake and French Regional Park are only a few blocks from our house. The backwater area of the lake is a wonderful maze of ponds and channels, perfect for canoes and kayaks. My scout troop used to clean up the area every spring. We'd pull out piles of bottles, Styrofoam bait cups, plastic bags and other litter that blew into the area. The backwater seemed like a good place to get some exercise on a spring evening a couple weeks ago.  
     As I paddled around I started finding orphaned fishing bobbers that had floated into the cattails. Many still had fishing line with hooks attached. Some of the bobbers showed signs of having been pecked at by the many shore birds that live here. I determined I would remove some of these as a public service. Soon, I had a couple dozen bobbers and a small pile of trash on the floor. 
     As I passed under one of the bridges, I noticed an Asian boy fishing. He reminded me of one of my Lao scouts from a few years ago. I caught him glancing at my growing bobber collection. I shouted up, "Do you want some bobbers?" He said "Yeah, thanks man. That'd be great!" I gave him about a dozen bobbers. 

Bobber bounty.

     As I paddled on, another fisherman on the bank looked at me and silently pointed at a clutch of cattails in the middle of the channel. Three more bobbers. I paddled a little further, found a few more, and delivered to the second fisher-guy another half-dozen bobbers.  You get the picture. By the end of the night, and about thirty bobbers later, the Legend of Bobberman! was born. (I prefer the use of an exclamation point to follow 'Bobberman!')

French park backwater. A mom teaching her four kids to fish. I gave her six recovered bobbers and a lure for her efforts.

     So I've been kinda' watching the papers to see if there is any mention of 'Mysterious man in kayak recovers bobbers... then disappears.' Nothing so far... if you see anything, let me know. 
     So, anyway, I've been watching my biceps in the mirror. I think they're getting a little bigger... and I'm trying to figure out what kind of capital 'B' would look good on a size 50 chest.