when you have some serious questions, there is only one thing to do... somewhere after heaving the yak onto the car, watching sad puppy eyes stare a laser of guilt through the front window, almost losing a boat on the road at 55 mph, slipping down a muddy embankment to put in, somewhere after all that, as my oars dipped silently into the clear water of South Sandy and guided my kayak gently down a tree-shrouded channel filled with dipping dragonflies, an occasional jumping salmon, camouflaged Green Herons, the sweet last scents of a thousand wildflowers...somewhere after winding past skyscraper dunes holding the now-empty homes of swallows, and lilypads floating above tethered roots and sunshine now warming my shoulders as the tree cover gives way to the expanse of my Lake...somewhere after the lazy drift of the sleepy channel makes a bend and the fullness of Lake Ontario spreads out it's offering with perfect wave-lets and expanses of uninhabited sandy beach on both sides...somewhere after all this, after navigating sandbars and currents and small shells that crunch under your water shoes as you bring your kayak up onto the beach...as you maneuver past the groups of migrating monarchs and curious clumps of dragonflies as big as a finger...that's when the answer comes in the form of a question: Why Not? and inside you resonate: Indeed.