T he song birds now wake me up each morning. As my eyes adjust from the sleep I look through my bedroom doorway past my living room and out at the lake. I smile.

Although I have been here for a month and a half, I haven't had a chance to get out on the lake to paddle with the exception of a short down river run to the dam. The wall to wall cabins left much to be desired, but I was looking forward to an up stream paddle as the dwellings appeared to thin out in that direction.

The 'lake' as it is called, is really the Occoquan Creek that has had it's flow interrupted by a dam a few miles down stream from where I live. But it has no resemblance to a lake at all as it twists and winds its way through Prince William County never getting more than a few dozen paddle strokes across.

The work day dragged on Friday as I waited for the time to pass so I could take my first adventure upstream. But once home it seemed like moments before I was changed and stepping in the mud to get in my kayak.

I backed away from shore and drew a deep breath. It felt good - the sunshine on my arms and face. It was at this moment I threw off the chill of winter and felt like I was truly embedded in spring.

There was a slight current heading upstream from the recent heavy rains. I could feel my right shoulder complain of the lack of paddling over the last several months.

Before long the houses fell away and I was alone on the creek. Paddling around each bend and feeling the slight breeze hit me from different angles. I passed ducks and geese, and even was entertained for a few minutes by a beaver making his way away from me.

A jet ski passed me at low speed, but a low fuel warning went off as they passed and the father and son pulled over to the bank to refuel.

I noticed a small log floating in the water and was thinking how it reminded me of an alligator tail. As I looked it slowly sank. It was alive, but I have no idea what it was. Possibly the back of a large turtle.

I turned around. I had been paddling into the sun for a while and without any sunscreen on I didn't want to burn. The jet ski, now refueled, continued on its way up the creek.

I noticed something fuzzy on the water. A giant ball of something. As I got close it suddenly ran at me across the water at high speed. I panicked and jolted as it ran right up to my cockpit until I realized it was a ball of fishing line. My paddle had snagged a submerged piece of line pulling the ball directly to me.

I saw what may have been a golden eagle. Much larger than a hawk, and a golden brown. It fled deeper into the woods as I paddled by. I've been surprised by all the wildlife I've seen in the last 6 weeks: squirrels, red tail hawks, deer, pileated woodpeckers, geese, mallards. As I sit here typing this a hawk flew across the water carrying a snake. Often in the early morning I see a lone bald eagle patrol the creek.

Before long I've returned home. I turn the kayak upside down against a tree and trudge up the hill to rinse off my water shoes before going inside. In a few moments it is dusk, and the song birds bring my day to a close.

Woody

I t rained the entire trip to Leesylvania. But by the time I arrived it was just the occasional drip. Overcast with just the hint of a fog. The car top launch was closed, so I headed to the boat ramp and got a parking space up front.

A short paddle today, but my first for the year. Heading north to Farm Creek the water was glass smooth and felt a little thick. The kayak moved sluggishly through the water.

It was a short trip into the creek. The water was down so low that it was impossible to go beyond the pilings that cross the creek a short distance back.

After turning back out of the creek we headed to Freestone Point and explored the rocks up close. Many were undercut and appeared to be balanced on end on a pedestal. I'm often amazed at the interesting detail along the shore when we just stop and look. Just around the point a red fox scampered his way across the rocks and back in to the trees. The first time I've seen one here although I've heard others talk about them.

The paddle back to the launch was quiet and peaceful. Eating lunch by the water as the sun came out and colored my face a light pink. It was good to be on the water again...

Woody

W indier than I expected. Just the type of weather Patty likes. I hate the wind. I like the way it creates waves, but other than that, I just hate it.

We launched from Leesylvania and headed north. We crossed the boat ramps in short order, but we could see that out in Occoquan Bay the white caps. We knew that as we passed Whitestone Point we would be in the full force of it.

We paddled out from shore to stay out of range of the fishermen on the pier. And the closer we got to the point the louder we had to talk to hear each other. Once we rounded the point Patty mentioned going to Farm Creek, which lay directly up wind of our position.

"Do you want to paddle straight across or hug the shore to stay out of the wind?" I asked. She didn't need to reply as I already knew her answer. So off we headed into the wind. And an adventure it was. It started as gusts, but turned in to a steady blow. I gripped my paddle so hard to keep the wind from taking it that this short paddle would make a nasty blister on my right hand.

As the wind picked up we started to notice that the duck blind along shore wasn't moving. More accurately we noticed WE weren't moving. We dug in. The ache in my arms grew louder as we continued - inch by inch - toward Farm Creek.

Then it began to slacken. Just a tiny bit at first. As we moved toward the wind shadow created by a clump of trees ahead of us, the inches became feet until we were fully inside the creek and protected by the wind.

The relief was shocking. It almost seemed as though I was suddenly super human - moving my kayak forward with the lightest of strokes. We flushed ducks out of the creek for a short distance before the vegetation blocked our way.

We exited the creek the way we came in, passing some fishermen at the mouth. With deliberate purpose we headed out toward the river. We wanted to catch the full force of the wind for the ride back. At speed it almost seemed quiet. We could hear each other speak without shouting moving in this direction - A trick one should remember if you need to have a conversation with someone while paddling in high winds.

We surfed a few waves, but they were really too steep and short to get any good rides. But the wind pushed us along very fast. What took us an hour and 15 minutes to go out, took only 45 to get back. We rounded the end of Leesylvania by the car top launch and fell in to the lee. A short day but I was tired but satisfied with the paddle, despite the blister....

Woody

S omewhere in between the planes passing overhead and the traffic passing over the Key bridge, I found an inner peace sitting beside the river at Jack's Boathouse. With the cool breeze blowing across the water I caught up on the latest happenings from Frank. A lot has changed in the 2 years since I had been here.

I sat and looked for a few hours before finally getting on the water. Paddling and drifting in the wind up to Fletcher's then lazily paddling back up the opposite side of the river. Hunger had gotten the best of me so I checked in with Frank to find out how many Pirates were still out. As darkness fell pizza was ordered and would be waiting for the rest of the folks when they returned.

Marshall drove in to pick up his boat and we caught up while eating some pizza. Shortly after he left the kayaks came in and there was a whole new group to catch up with. Well fed and sleepy it was time to head home. Going in to work so early makes kayaking in Georgetown difficult. But I miss this place.

Woody