May 24, 2003

Superimposed on Silence

After paying my $2.50 to launch, I headed down to the boat ramp and tossed my gear and the boat to the ground. There was no parking available this morning by the ramp, but plenty in the upper parking lot so I parked there and headed back to the ramp. It is a fairly steep road from the ramp to the parking lot and I can tell you I know every inch of it quite well as I forgot things and had to return to the car not once, but twice before I managed to feel satisfied I had everything I needed.

From the ramp I turned right and headed west, upriver of the Occoquan. What little urbanization there is near Fountainhead quickly disappeared behind me. There is almost no buildings at all on river right, and the few on river left are now well hidden in the green foliage.

Starting out I spent some time with edging and leaned turns. Bow rudders, and hanging draws. I even played with a reverse hanging draw but I don't think my kayak is going to be able to do that. Even with the skeg down and leaning as far forward as possible the stern would outrun the bow in a reverse hanging draw.

On past the remnants of Ryan's Dam I cranked up the forward momentum. I've adopted the Brent Reitz forward stroke last year and I want to tune it this season for the long haul.

Within a few minutes something inside me told me to stop paddling. As soon as I lifted the paddle from the water I noticed the silence. For a brief few minutes there wasn't a plane, nor a car, or even a lawn mower breaking the silence. The silence seemed to have a presence of its own, and the sounds of birds were superimposed on top of it. It was as if the animals were trying to drown out the silence, but they couldn't. Making all their sounds together I could still hear the silence underneath them.

I started paddling again, this time aware of the silence. I took a deep breath and tried to inhale some of this feeling. Along the shore I noticed baby geese and their parents. An adult bald eagle flew across the reservoir, all but disappearing in the green leaves as it landed.

At the point where the Occoquan and Bull Run come together I turned to head back, but I need to extend my distance. So I turn full circle and head up Bull Run to add a bit more distance.

Within the last mile near Bull Run marina, I could finally tell the silence was having difficulty being heard. It faded away into the distance as urban life came back into focus. I turned back once again at the marina, wanting to try and seek out the silence again.

The stroke was working well. 5 miles so far and I was feeling good. I doubted I would be able to keep it up the entire trip back. It certainly was good for encouraging trunk rotation, and I could easily slip into straight arm paddling without losing the twisting that was providing the power to my blade, but I stayed with the bent arms for the entire trip back.

Near Ryans dam the carp started jumping, and a momma duck and 2 tiny ducklings were nervously paddling along shore. In no time I was back on shore.

10 miles and I felt like I could do another 10. Now if I could just get the water to warm up so I can tune up my other paddling skills...

Woody