Paddle paddle paddle
This is big boat country, but it’s early enough that they’re not out yet. I pull my kayak off the car roof, gather my gear, park the car, and hop in, sliding into the water which is already becoming slightly choppy. The first mile or so is a paddle along the lake shore, past some homes, and across small bays. At the tip of Finley Point, however, waves crash into rocks and the wind picks up. I can see the island from here and guess it’s not much more than a mile, but that’s a mile of open water in a deep, deep lake. The paddle, however, is simple enough, and in less than a half-hour I’m jumping through the cold water and into the sun-warmed sand.
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![](https://images.mnstatic.com/4f/57/4f578b13bc671ee573b235dc6f384e41.jpg?quality=75&format=pjpg&fit=crop&width=65&height=65&aspect_ratio=65%3A65)
![](https://images.mnstatic.com/6f/10/6f1074af48c2c71c4afadd36bf75f61d.jpg?quality=75&format=pjpg&fit=crop&width=65&height=65&aspect_ratio=65%3A65)