May 4, 2003

Realizing Spring

Like sitting in the early morning hours and suddenly coming to the realization that night has become day, Katie made me realize spring is truly here. Around us the flowers were bursting out in pinks and reds and light oranges. How did spring sneak up on me without me noticing?

The day before, I carried the Gulfstream from the rack in the back yard to the car. By the time I got her strapped down everything I had touched was green from the pollen.

I didn't check the weather before we left and as we got closer to Mason Neck the rain started coming down lightly. Paying our $4 at the park we drove to the parking lot to see what the weather would do. As the sky cleared we unloaded my Gulfstream and Katie's new Mystic. We tossed our junk in the boats and I parked the car.

When we started out I noticed a big difference in Katie's paddling. No longer was she poking along - she was touring! Only at the end of our trip did she start to lag behind. I've seen her grow as a kayaker over the years. From needing a tow in any windy section to now keeping up with me on a 3-4 mile paddle, I'm proud of how she has progressed.

On the water we head right, towards Kanes Creek, and in short order we are in the mouth heading towards the far side. We paddle by some geese trying to keep a low profile when Katie notices a beaver cutting across our bow. We watched for a few minutes and then it dived so we headed on into the creek.

Paddling by a log with a turtle sitting on it, I point out the turtle to Katie, and looking beyond at the edge of the woods we see a doe stepping into the shadows. Overhead a few immature bald eagles move from tree to tree. We see two mature eagles as well, one sitting in a tree and eating fish. An Osprey tries to take the fish, but the eagle flies off taking it's food with it.

A moment later we see something splashing in the water and paddle over to see what it is. I think by the golden color near the tail it is a carp. Whatever type of fish it is it is HUGE. It ignores Katie and I as we paddle up to see it's tail slowly waiving in the air. The fish is obviously full of roe. I try to slide my paddle under the head to see how big the fish is, but it suddenly becomes aware of our presence and swims away.

We wait a few moments and it resurfaces not far away. We paddle over again and I put on a pair of gloves. Katie and I raft up and she paddles us toward the fish as I lean on her boat for stability. When we get close I grab the tail and lift with all my might but the fish again bursts to life, covers us in a shower of water and swims away again.

We head deeper into the creek, flushing wood ducks as we go. When we find the no trespassing signs we turn around.

The water is high today, and the tide has just turned. In a month this creek will be so choked with lilies that even shallow draft boats will need to stick to the channel. But today we glide effortlessly from shore to shore without so much as ever worrying about running aground. On the way out we paddle by the fish and I again try to lift the fish's head to get a sense of its size. But it scampers away once more.

We paddle out of the creek as little starlings make a run at us, turn and speed back to the tree they were sitting in. We watch the bass boaters throw their bait a few times and turn towards the creek.

Tiny wavelets pass us and Katie becomes paranoid. I relate the story of when I broke my paddle and suddenly the wavelets don't seem so large to her. Landing at the launch we quickly pack and are on the road for home.