In the first of what may be many talks, lectures, discussions, seminars and interviews concerning the 2018 kayak trip, one aspect is ringing louder and louder, surviving storms. As I work to complete the journal entries from paper to electronic, I have realized the severity of weather simply by the number of layovers and the quickening of the pace to get off the lake. I knew in Minnesota, along the North Shore, that storms tossing me around and coursing over my tent were bad, but the damage and closures I encountered further into Wisconsin and Michigan were astounding. Eroded beaches, falling forests, even a wandering hot-tub that was washed ashore on a deserted Wisconsin shore were all remnants of the devastating winds and waves. What’s worse is the two-year span over which this devastation has advanced. The tornado that pummeled Saxon Harbor into submission was in 2106. The fall winds and storms of 2017 continued the horror. Then in 2018, as I was on the water, more flooding rains and hurricane winds. By the time I reached the Keweenaw Peninsula of Michigan and walked among the towns of Houghton and Hancock, streets were missing, alleys washed away, and e-coli warnings striped beaches of vacationers and locals alike. Climate change is rearing its head in the Great Lakes. I wondered as I paddled why I saw no boats. No fellow kayakers or even pleasure boaters. The lake was a deserted morass of debris and near record high water. McLain State Park, one of my favorites when the kids were young, is undergoing a complete reconstruction as the shore side has begun to fall into Lake Superior. We’re not talking small beaches, but chunks of cliffs and pods of forest. The analogy for me pertains to one of the reasons I took this mighty jaunt. I had overcome storms in my life and wanted this journey as proof of my recovery and reclamation of a life. The experience was all of that and more. Paddling through some impossible water and  through improbable scenes left an indelible mark upon my soul that will serve me in every future hailstorm of existence. And, I would do it all over again, and will.