September 1, 2003

Funk

On Monday morning I felt like staying in bed. Only wanting to test my new DeLorme mapping software with the GPS motivated me enough to get up. It was sprinkling as I left the house. I don't want to paddle, but I grab my PFD on the way out the door anyway.

I think I'll regret buying the Street Atlas 2004 software. I figured since I was still using SA 8.x, I was due for an update. The new software had the changes made to Route 234 over the past few years, but Leesylvania State Park, as well as other parks are now missing from the map. Many of the landmarks along the river are missing now too.

At the park I pulled in to the parking lot and shut down the laptop. The park ranger stops and tells me where the car top launch is located. I thank him and tell him I prefer to launch from here. In years past I remember the launch being a steep carry with a lot of rip rap placed near shore to block the waves. My mental notes recall launching a fiberglass kayak there could risk major scratches.

Except for the constant stream of boats leaving the boat ramp. I'm nearly the only one in the park. On the water I turn south, heading for Powells Creek. I duck inside the protected boat launch area to make sure the boats go by me slowly as I paddle past the ramp. An algae bloom is in progress on the creek. The water thick with the green mush. "Too thin to plow, to thick to drink" comes to mind as I paddle past six or seven half eaten fish floating on the surface. As I paddle through the river funk I feel the funk I've been carrying with me the last week start to ease out and disappear.

The tide is rising so I have no worries about getting grounded. I let the current carry me upstream, paddling only to maintain my kayak pointed in the right direction. Egrets, ducks, geese, eagles, osprey, and several other birds are in the creek today. As I float across thick blankets of hydrilla, four animals swim out of the lilly pads and cross my path. At first I thought they were beaver, but not a single one slapped the water with their tail to warn me off. Too small to be nutria, could these have been river otters? They dove and surfaced in a playful but nervous manner until they disappeared into the lillys on the other side of the creek.

The wild rice is at its peak. I've seen more this year than ever before and I wonder if our wet spring had anything to do with it. The large flowers, red or white are speckeled here on the fringes of the rice. Before long the marsh gives way to a narrow creek and the flowers become small, but burst with yellow, purple, lavender, bright red and blue. The creek soon stops flowing my way and for a short bit seems to be stopped until a little further it flows against me. Tidal flow meets stream flow. An old plastic bottle seems trapped back in here, so I free it by tossing it in my day hatch.

The creek continues to narrow until it is only about a foot wider than the length of my paddle, but I continue on until at last a dead fall with the sounds of rushing water beyond tell me it is time to go back.

It is at this point I realize my kayak is much longer than the length of my paddle, so I can't turn around. It is a long (or seemingly long) reverse paddle looking over my shoulder until I again find water wide enough to turn my kayak downstream.

I drift until the water turns against me again, and begin to paddle in earnest for the first time today. As I weave my way back out to the mouth of the creek a lone canoeist passes me going the other way. I hug the right shore this time, and I'm treated to watching a bald eagle hunt for his lunch, and a hawk fly over with his lunch firmly in his talons.

Back to river left I swing by the car top launch. The rip rap is now part of the shore line, and the launch is a more gental slope, perfect for launching.

For a holiday, the park seems fairly empty, but I think it is because it is only 11:30 when I get back to shore. But after tossing the kayak on the car and driving out of the park, I see a steady stream of folks coming in to mark the end of summer.