I keep them there because I never know when a friend and I might stop to kayak somewhere, and also because the pieces (two halves per kayak) fit perfectly in my car for storage. As a matter of fact, they fit so well that I have plenty of room to see out the back window.
Still, though: It's a tight fit because I can fit the kayaks, the gear, and little else. So I often forget about what happens when I live my daily non-kayaking life. For instance, I forget about the kayaks when I go about my regular business.
Take, for example, the simple act of grocery shopping.
I am going to a party, so I need to buy some stuff to make and bring along. Plus, I have several things on my regular list, like light bulbs and paper towels and (we can't live without) Cheez-Its. I make a list of about fifty items that I need, walk out to my car, and ...
I can't fit grocery bags in there! The damn thing is packed full.
I start perusing the outside of the car. Hmmm. There's one section in the back where I can probably fit two bags, maybe three. The front passenger seat is moved back about halfway. I can easily fit three or four bags on the floor and about as many on the seat. That should be plenty of room, but I pare down my list to about thirty items, just in case.
When I get to the check-out, I ask for paper in plastic, figuring that like-sized bags will fit better geometrically than amorphous plastic ones. Rolling the cart to the car, I strategically plan my attack, and it pays off well. I have seven bags and a package of six paper towel rolls. The paper towels tuck in precisely where the little alcove of space sits between the kayaks. Three paper bags line up on the floor of the front, and four bags with lighter groceries ride shotgun on the passenger seat.
The only glitch happens when unpacking the paper towels. Somehow they have become wedged in, and the package refuses to budge for about fifteen seconds. Finally, the paper towels give way, no worse for the wear, and I am officially unpacked as much as I'm going to be. Groceries are put away, and the kayaks remain behind, waiting patiently for their turn being hauled out and unpacked into a waterway.
