Outdoors writing winner: Paddle Tap
Through fourth and fifth grade I had seen the pictures and heard the stories. Now it was my turn. Olympic Park Institute was the field trip of all field trips for the sixth graders at Prairie View Elementary.
As my classmates and I edged closer to the departure, our conversations revolved around the field trip like planets around the sun.
“Ashley, Ashley! Did you pack yet?”
“Yes, did you?”
After traveling 416.4 miles, after sitting for six hours and 51 minutes, after anxiously waiting, 60 excited sixth graders hopped off the bus ready for an adventure.
In the five days of being at Olympic Park Institute, I went on a treacherous four-hour hike up Mount King Storm, played in the tide pools, collected river samples and covered my rain boots in mud.
However, nothing quite compared to the experience of canoeing in the pouring rain to collect water samples.
Wearing wool socks and rain boots and a sweatshirt and raincoat I was physically ready to go; mentally, not so much. This was the third day of cold weather and rain, and yet again we were exploring science. None of us wanted to canoe, but there we were, 10 sixth graders, two adults and one fearless leader in a long canoe on Lake Crescent collecting water samples so we could test the acidity of the lake.
At first, we steered aimlessly going in circles and zigzagging every which way. This only made us more frustrated. After some time, our guide, Forest, instructed us to chant in unison, “Paddle Tap.”
It was at this time that it started to rain. The rain was not gentle like Ludwig Van Beethoven’s Für Elise, but rather hellish and powerful like Beethoven’s Allegro Con Brío.
Each paddle hit the edge of the canoe in accordance with the beat of the chant. My hands turned white as I gripped the paddle harder and pushed down with more force.
“Paddle Tap! Paddle Tap!” Our voices built to a crescendo as we shouted in unison, “Paddle Tap! Paddle Tap!”
Our bows moved across the instrument with great force and vigor. We were a symphony of sound.
At that moment, no one else existed but those of us in the canoe. Our conductor, who had once been frustrated by the lack of gusto, was now filled with excitement.
He indicated a coda as we moved closer to a little inlet where we would collect our water samples. The rain fell softer. The chant grew quieter.
Our piece was done.
Canoeing in the rain, although cold and wet, was the best experience in nature I have ever had. Some might question why bundling up, only to be drenched by water is fun, question why struggling to work together with 12 other people is exciting, or question why paddling in circles is amazing.
Just as a symphony practices countless times to make the concert perfect, the rain has to fall before the rainbow appears.