December 3, 2000

Where Eagles Soar

12 Miles

Patuxent River at the Benedict Bridge

I've never paddled this part of the Patuxent, so I left early for what I expected to be a 1:45-2:00 hour drive. An hour and a half later I was sitting at the base of the bridge. 8:10 am and launch time isn't till 9:00.

I decided to wait in the truck. It is cold this morning. Somewhere in the 20's. I pushed the seat back and recline just looking up at the sky. A pair of Bald Eagles catch my attention through the windshield. Bald Eagles are monogamous and mate for life, only selecting another mate if its faithful companion should die. "What do they know that I don't?" As my thought pattern begins to spiral inward Mark's truck diverts my attention.

We unload in the bitter cold and suit up in our dry suits. Before long Joan and Mardi are here also getting ready. Joan entertains us by putting her foot through the sleeve of her dry suit before we finish up getting ready and head out. North we decide.

The wind is out of the north and may get stronger a little later, so we choose to take the hard paddle first and hope we can coast back with the wind. We cross a bay - almost more a bend in the river - and on the north end is hundreds and hundreds of waterfowl. Sitting in the lee of the shore, the geese are the first to spook. The noise is almost deafening as they circle around and head for the power plant across the river a half mile away. The group of nearly 200 get to the power plant and circle before heading back towards us. As we sit and watch the geese continue to gain altitude and turn north to parts unknown. I sit and watch until they appear like the sky has thin black cracks in its skin and my attention turns now towards the various ducks starting to take flight. Over our heads and away we turn towards Gods Grace Point.

Turning the corner the wind is again in our face. A cold wind and I'm looking forward to a rest break. After rounding the point and heading north a bit further we beach for lunch. My Gore-Tex dry suit always cools down when I stop. Over it I have on a paddling jacket to help cut the wind, and at lunch I put a heavy fleece shirt over everything. My hands are freezing, and I know I didn't wear enough socks. Mental note to self to wear several layers of wool socks next time.

While standing around Mark and I decide to stand on some dead grass. This transmits less cold into our feet. I'm eager to get back in and start paddling again. As we push off in moments I'm again fine.

One gloved hand in a pogie, another gloved hand with none. This combination works well with me as I hate to have my hands both tied up inside pogies, so I paddle a while with one hand protected then slide it over for the other hand when it gets cold. It has nothing to do with me being unable to find the other pogie the night before.

Into Hunting Creek we head. Out of the wind in a slow, leisurely paddle. A wide and pretty creek without too much housing. Watching the clock and watching the sky, about 2 1/2 miles into the creek we grudgingly turn around.

Back on February 26, on a trip to Westmoreland State Park we had noticed 2 kayakers practicing Eskimo rescues on our way back to the launch site. In conversation between Mark and Joan it is discovered Mark was one of those kayakers! What a small world this is indeed.

After leaving the creek we have the wind to our backs. Small waves carry us along. Joan notices icicles hanging off Mardi's hatch cover. A quick stop for me to stretch my back, we are on our way again.

I had been leaning over to submerge my hatch covers as much as possible this trip. Last weekend I had pulled the hatch rims off the kayak to re-caulk between the rim and the fiberglass. I had run a hose over the hatches and was shocked at how the water had poured in without restriction. My caulk job would prove well done as not a single drop will be found at the end of the day. A major improvement from recent trips.

Back at the launch I notice my feet are cold as I get out of the boat. Heavy and feeling like lead the first thing I do is start my truck to warm it. Walking around as I carry my gear and kayak back to the truck helps a lot. Stripping off my clothes I'm eager to leave and get in my warm truck.

Riding home I get caught in traffic leaving the Redskins game. My hour and a half trip turns into a 3 hour stop and go commute.

Too much time to think my thoughts drift back to eagles.