Following the grand paddle plan

The writer launches an ambitious woodworking project: a 14-foot cedar-strip kayak, following a plan of his own creation. Whether it will track straight or twist with every dip of the paddle, hold together or break apart, float or sink -- the outcome depends on his experience, ingenuity, and mindfulness. "This is a rare chance to take total responsibility," he writes.;But early on, he and his wife stare at the plus sign on a pregnancy test, and the physical construction of the boat loses importance. As a mental and emotional exercise, however, the project becomes an urgent preparation for fatherhood, "the ultimate responsibility.";The kayak takes shape, and the work triggers recollections, journeys into the world and the mind. Hand-me-down wrenches from his father and grandfather embody timeless values. Words from old carpenters and sage travelers lend the kayak a monumental quality. At the same time, each imperfection in the hull reflects a trial from the past -- relationships broken and patched up, love lost and found again. His pursuit of perfection comes up short, but the effort is not for nothing; the work is its own reward.;The writer joins his stories together like cedar strips in the hull. He harvests them from old-growth forests, shapes and glues them together with care, and sands the surface to a sheen. He steps back to admire his work, confident that this organic process has forged a seaworthy craft -- and a beautiful read. A writer's ear will pick up subtle notes on the art of language as well. "You come to recognize the sound of smooth," he writes while running sandpaper over the hull.;This story follows in the wake of Robert Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. It's similarly philosophical and audacious in its design, but written in a more earthly, accessible language. A Zen for today's young men, expectant fathers especially.;Will this kayak float? There's only one way to find out. And as the craft hits the water, you must have faith.