July 4, 2003

Happy Birthday America!

n the 227th birthday of America, Joan met me in Alexandria for a paddle in to Washington DC to watch the fireworks. As we parked on the street and began to unload our gear, I remembered this always seems to be the hottest place on earth. I think in part due to the giant piles of coal just a few hundred feet away at the power plant. By the time we were on the water I was hot and felt like I had sweated off the sunscreen I had applied only a few minutes before.

Even the water was warm, but I dipped off anyway. The warm water outtake of the power plant made things even worse. But north of the plant the water cooled and I dipped off again and got closer to shore to take advantage of the shade. But as we paddled along the shore I kept looking at the runway ahead knowing that long passage by the airport would be without shade and hot. The water was choppy from the endless line of pleasure boats headed up to DC.

We struggled north. By the time we reached Gravely point it seemed like we had been paddling all day. We ducked into the small creek next to Gravely to reapply sunscreen and for me to refill my empty water bottle. As we paddled out a boat leaving the dock made a sharp turn and would have ran us down if not for my screaming at the captain and Joan blowing her whistle. The captain never even looked where he had been going, instead had kept looking back in the back of the boat at his passengers.

Out of the creek we got back into the bigger boat wakes. The jet skis were jumping the wakes and clearly within the 100 feet of shore from which they are not allowed to operate. One guy fell off and as the wakes carried his craft towards the rocks I was sure it would be destroyed. But by some miracle he managed to swim over and get back on just in time. The four jet skis continued to buzz around like irritating little bees but finally headed north staying just enough ahead to keep us breathing their fumes.

Where were the cops? - I wondered this to my self as a big boat passed us. The captain looked at his empty beer and set it aside and ran down into the galley to get another, leaving his craft pilotless for a few moments until he returned. In years past the cops had been strict about boats not being near the Virginia shore at all, and most boats stayed to the Maryland side. But there were enough that I found myself paddling much closer to shore than I wanted to be.

Some young adults on shore yelled at us " Kayakers! Can we get some help?" A few minutes later I tossed their frisbee back to them and we wish each other happy 4th.

We continued our sloth toward Roosevelt Island. The sun hidden by a few clouds, it wasn't nearly as hot but the current still slowed us down. It was 7:00 before we landed on Roosevelt for a bite of KFC that was stashed in my rear hatch. We had landed through mud and the tide had gone out even more. I tried my best to get as much off as I could, but I still carried a bunch of it into the kayak with me.

We arrived at Jacks just at the Pirates were getting on the water around 8:00. By 8:30 we were on our way back down river to stake out a viewing spot on the water. We met up with Barry and Oona's group and enjoyed the fireworks as a large flotilla of kayaks.

After the show some little girls on shore sang in chorus "Happy Birthday America!" This was our cue to begin the trip back to Alexandria.

I told Barry I would paddle sweep and we said our goodbyes to the group paddling back to Jacks. We were nine on the water and seemed to be making good time. The night breeze felt good and the chop from the boats on the other side of the river made for exciting paddling under the crecent moon. At the south end of the airport a large jetliner passed just above our heads.

I was next to last out of the water as Barry stood knee deep catching the kayaks and helping lift them up the bank on to shore. Shortly afterwards we said our goodbyes and headed off in our various directions. In some ways I was tired, and in others I felt like I wanted to paddle even more. The 14 miles left me wanting more.

I'm not sure why my paddles have been ending as of late with my body feeling the need to put in more distance. I may need to put in a trip sometime soon that will test my upper bounds. I'd like to think it is my paddling stroke that is adding the stamina - making lower mileage paddles seem effortless. Time will tell.

Happy Birthday America!

Woody