Behind every good idea there's that little voice,

So this morning as I was settling with a cup of coffee and a little writing, dear hubby walks up and says, "Let's paddle across Taylor Creek to Carrot Island and walk to the beach!"

(I'm thinking, "WHAT?"  "Are you kidding me?"  "What about my writing?")

"Sure honey, let's do it."  (Am I really going to make it across the creek?  What about the boats?  Stand up paddle boarding across the waterway?  What if I fall in?  Why is my heart beating so fast?)

It's a adventure of 5 - Erik in a kayak with Emma, Jeff in a kayak, Maria and myself on the paddle boards.  Now comes the real adventure of the trip.

"We're going to walk across to the beach!  See it way over there?"

Me, on the paddle board, "Where?"  (Walk?  Over all that muck?  Oysters?)  "Oh, way over there in the horizon?"  (Warning objects are farther than they appear)

We hit the shore and immediately are knee deep in muck.  Jeff pulls his foot out of the muck and has lost his shoe.  Erik immediately puts Emma on his shoulders and steps into the muck.

We start walking, Maria jumped, "I just stepped on something really big that moved."

Emma looks at me, holds out her sweet little hands and quietly says, "Help me....."

I'm thinking that I am smart to have my river shoes on until my foot comes out of the muck minus the shoe.  Now I have to dig in the goo for my shoe!  I get it back put it on and some unfortunate snail gets stuck under my arch.  (We're really walking through this crap all the way over to there?)

We decide to try and get around to the dry horse trail, walk the trail to another mucky part which takes Jeff's flip flops, Erik's flip flops and adds more snail to my shoes.  Emma has this look on her face as her Dad sinks into the mud, not terror, just a "Is this a good idea" type look.  (I'm with you Emma.)

We finally find a path to the beach and as we start walking normally, husband jumps about ten feet into the air.

"What!"  I almost jump with him.

"I almost stepped on a crab," he points.  We both go over and look as poor Jimmy, pissed over a  little coitus interruptus with Shirley in the marsh.  (Sorry crab dude, we're just trying to get to the beach.  Atleast someone is getting some)


We are walking, birds are flying over us wondering who these random humans are in their uncharted territory.  I'm thinking, "First rule of survival, find potable water, then food, then shelter."  I look around.

We're screwed.

The beach is amazing!  There's miles of sand, not a soul on the beach.  We're finding conchs, hermit crabs, and the biggest scallop shells I've ever seen!  Emma is walking behind me in the water, much happier.  Jeff and Erik are talking conch recipes, while I am secretly saying, "Swim away little conchs don't become dinner!"  Emma enjoyed watching the conch spit ocean water as we picked them up, then letting them "be free" in the ocean.

The walk back was shorter, my husband the only one getting stuck in the muck, "Honey!  Don't come over here, it's a mine field!  I lost my shoe!"

Two perfect conch shells later, our pockets full of scallop shells, our memories full of laughter watching others look like little old men walking through muck, the fish biting our ankles and of course that sweet little voice saying, "Help me."

I got all excited about a HUGE conch shell sitting on the beach only to have to leave it to the hermit crab that called it home.

A few lessons learned on this trip:

I am better at paddle boarding that I thought.
It hurts to have a snail in your shoe.
Sometimes a little child can voice what you are thinking.
It really is cool to still that little voice in your head and just for for the adventure.

And, sometimes three hour tours are worth while!


So the next time you are listening to people mention what would be a cool little adventure, and that little voice starts in your head telling you every reason it is a bad idea?

Don't listen to it.

You may find something amazing.