April 3, 1999

The death of winter

Trip #12

MAP

06:10 am and I'm ready to go. I'm not expected to be there till 8:00, but I head out anyway. I'll get to spend a little time with sculling and bracing before Joan shows up. I get to Leesylvania State Park about 6:40. The sign out front says the park opens at 7:00, but the gate is open so I go on in. I'm a little surprised someone is manning the pay area when entering the park. Normally I'm filling out an envelope and dropping the money in the honor system tube.

On in the park I was really caught off guard by the number of boats scurrying around already. Worse, the parking lot in the park is already half full of empty boat trailers. I unload my kayak and make for the beach while watching the constant stream of boats buzzing around like angry bees. By 7:00 I'm on the water and spend the next 20 minutes seeing how far I can lean my kayak on edge and not flip over.

The water is much warmer today. This may be because of the shallow Occoquan bay nearby has allowed the water to warm more quickly. I finally park the yak and walk back near the truck to wait for Joan. 8:00 on the button a red kayak appears through the trees. We unload her boat and connect her wheels for the journey down to the beach. After loading up I tell Joan the game plan to track near shore, duck into the no wake zone while passing the boat ramps, and then hug the shore until we get to a far point of land in the distance (cockpit point).

Getting by the boat ramps proved a little intimidating. Most of the boaters were courteous. This held true for the entire day. The paranoia ran high, but all in all the boaters behaved themselves. The key was being visible. Most boats today went out of their way to give way once they saw us. As we passed Cherry Hill marina Joan pointed out an odd shaped object. An ultra light airplane was assembled and sitting next to the dock.

So far we had seen several ospreys in the process of collecting twigs for their nest. This seemed to be the predominate animal activity for the day. As luck would have it, I didn't see a single bald eagle today. Unusual for one of my Potomac trips.

As we got nearer to Cockpit Point we saw what appeared to be a bridge going out across the water. But as we got nearer, the bridge turned into a place for ships to moor and a pipeline that ran back to the shore. On the bank huge, poorly maintained storage tanks stuck out like an eye sore.

Between Possum Nose and Possum Point power station we decide to make for the beach to stretch for a few minutes. It feels like I'm sitting on a nerve in my backside and the pain is shooting down my left leg. As we near the beach the waves are dumping loudly on the shore. The waves weren't big, but they sounded big. We spent a little time scouting before finally heading in and jumping out of the kayaks the best we could.

After a walk up and down the short beach a few times, we head back for the water and pass the Possum Point power station. I'm always amazed at how much machinery it takes to generate electricity. We round Possum Point and turn in to Quantico Creek. This creek is much larger than I had expected with fairly steep banks. We scoot across to the far shore to look at where the bank has slid into the creek. The land has sheared off straight and vertical and someone has carved initials into the clay. Up a little further and we decide to head back. We are out much further than I had planned, but the nice easy pace has kept me from getting tired.

On the way out there is a crude boat ramp on the marine base side of the creek. We paddle over to investigate this as a possible future launch point. A guy is wading in the water a little over waist deep and fishing. I ask him a few questions about the boat ramp and the fishing and then continue heading back towards Leesylvania. The power plant seems to be a popular fishing spot. As a boat would leave, another seemed to come screaming in to take its place.

Beyond the power plant there are some high voltage power lines that span the river to the Maryland side. Just past the power lines we beach so I can walk off the pinched nerve again and eat some lunch. Joan has been using a Greenland paddle she borrowed from me to see how well it works. She seems to like it a lot.

After lunch we head back up to Cockpit Point. A couple of older folks are bank fishing and having to share the spot with a couple of younger guys. As we are paddling by, one of the young guys picks up a dog and walks out about knee deep and throws the dog as far as he can. I suspect there was something wrong with one of them, and to me, other than being wet the dog seemed fine.

Back down again in the Cherry Hill section and the marina with the ultra light. One boat came in behind us and just idled along and waited for us to pass the marina before they headed in themselves. We thought about crossing directly to Leesylvania from here, but the number of boats zipping by discouraged us from getting far from shore.

After crossing in front of the Leesylvania boat ramps once again, we beach at the launch site to the delight of a small child just of walking age. With all these people around, my exit better be flawless. I pop the skirt, push my backrest back and squeeze my feet and legs past the coaming. Pivot up, and I'm standing! Ta da!

Joan mentioned as we were dollying the boats back to the parking lot that the 12 miles were not near as tiring as the 100 yards back to the car. I agree.

The weather was perfect. Light winds, warm but not hot. The boats are out in force. The winter has died, or at least been beaten into submission and the green of spring is born.