July 1, 2000

Where art thou, shoulder pain?

Patuxent River

MAP

17.1 Miles

I must confess I was more than a little worried about my left shoulder. I had injured it quite painfully two weekends before practicing a between the boat rescue. I had tweaked it several times in the past practicing this rescue but this time the pain was great enough it shot down my elbow and into my hand. So after seeing the doctor and getting the obligatory anti-inflammatory medication, I was worried that this injury may not heal so quickly.

On Friday I still had not made up my mind where to paddle when I got an invite from Robb about paddling down the Patuxent. He had an adventurous 18 mile journey planned over some possible snags - not quite the shoulder babying trip I had in mind. Still the Patuxent sounded inviting and I decided to solo paddle north from the Rt 4 bridge.

I expected a short paddle as I really didn't think my shoulder had healed much. So around 8:30 on a beautiful Saturday morning I put in and started my journey. With a bit of luck I might even see Robb and Laura.

It had been ages - about 2 months - since I had undertaken a trip of any distance. Since January I had pretty much spent my days on the water practicing skills in the area around Ft Belvoir. With barely 100 miles under my belt for the year, my lack of distance would probably hold me back at least as much as my shoulder. But two weekends ago at the BCU training, I had found my forward stroke. The instructor explained it, I did it, and the instructor said it was good. It was finally ingrained in my mind how it should be done.

It was difficult at first. The shoulder blade popped and snapped on every stroke. I could feel the pinched nerve start to throb as I paddled and I decided I would treat it like my right shoulder a year ago.

When I first started paddling last year my right shoulder would pop and snap for the first hour quite painfully. After the first hour it would go numb and I would continue on without problem. Over time the popping stopped and the numbness didn't return. Was I about to go through the same ordeal with my left shoulder?

About a half mile up from the launch was a group of folks camping. It seems that last year about this time I ran across another group in this same place. I wonder if it could be the same group?

The tide was high and the tan line dried on the low hanging branches told me it was close to high water. The current was swift and against me, so I stayed close to the bank to take advantage of the slower current. Further up I passed an area where there was some strange screaming sounds coming from a tree. I backed up and saw some sort of animal climb down and disappear, but the screaming and growling in the tree continued. It sounded like a fight for life and I held station scanning the trees looking for the source. After a minute or two the screaming stopped and a young raccoon climbed down from the tree. The source of the screaming? I don't know, but silence had returned so I pressed on.

The water gradually gathered speed as it turned from tidal to runoff from rains earlier in the week. There were a few deadfalls I had to carefully go around - trees that I seem to remember from my last trip. I made it north of the Queen Anne footbridge and the fallen trees became thicker and the current stronger. Just south of 214 I came across a tree I just couldn't get by, so I turned for the return trip.

Turning was no easy matter as I was deep in some brush trying to turn the kayak in swift water. But with a little twisting and leaning I was soon taking advantage of the southerly push. Surprisingly my shoulder did not hurt, but I knew the real test would be tomorrow when I got out of bed.

The return trip was uneventful and quick for the majority of the way back. When the water turned tidal again it slowed as it was near low tide and beginning to come back in. I paddled strongly the last mile stopping only long enough to exchange hellos with a kayaking couple.

It had been a long time since I paddled solo. So long I had almost forgotten how much I loved it. The quiet solitude of my own thoughts gave me time to look inward. A celebration of sorts. The 17 miles went by all too quickly. But for the trip home I sat in stop and go traffic on the beltway as I remembered this was a holiday weekend.