Maiden Voyage trip report

Trip #1

Map

Thought you folks might like to hear my trip report for the Guillemot I've been building over the last couple of months:

8:00 am Friday morning and it is in the upper 20's. The weatherman says it should get up to 33 today. The rest of the weekend is snow and ice, so it is now or wait another week. I get dressed, throw a few last minute things in the truck and I'm off. I get to the Leesavania state park about 9:00. As I'm entering the park, I can't help noticing that Neabsco creek is frozen over. On into the park I see Powells creek is frozen across up to the train trestle that crosses it. The put in is just a short walk from the trestle and from the road I can see ice extending out from the shoreline. The middle is open, but I'm not ready to try and learn to kayak and be an icebreaker at the same time.

I drive to the Potomac River side of the park. This is free of ice and has a nice beach to launch from with just a few small rocks. I scout a place to carry the kayak to the beach from the parking lot before unloading the truck. I end up making two trips from the truck; once with the kayak, the second with my backpack, paddles, and everything else.

Leesavania State Park has 6 large boat ramps that stay busy in the summer. It was a pleasant surprise to find not a single boat on the water this morning. On a previous scouting visit I had made note that the beach would probably be the best launch spot on a trip North of the park to prevent having to cross the boat ramps.

I have a few years experience paddling (and fishing) from a 17' canoe in protected waters. I considered myself a competent paddler and really didn't think I would have any problems, even though I had never used a 2 bladed paddle before.

Getting in the kayak was much easier than I had expected. The kayak floated in only 3-4 inches of water and seemed stable while I got in and fastened the spray skirt. It took a tiny shove to get me going and I managed to paddle about 15 feet before the kayak began turning hard to port. Ok, I'm not deep enough yet, thinking that because I couldn't submerge my paddle properly this must be the reason I'm turning so hard. So I tried and tried to get in deeper water, but even paddling hard on the port side with large sweep strokes the kayak still tried to turn hard to port.

No way this could be because of my paddling! I must have a horribly crooked keel! The kayak must be U shaped to want to turn this hard! Yikes! But just to make sure, I'll play with the paddle a bit. My paddle is a curved asymmetrical plastic and aluminum right control paddle. I decide to un-feather it and try again. A little better. Good enough to get me in deeper water but I'm still having a hard time going straight. At this point I'm glad there is no one else at the park because it's obvious I've never done this before.

I don't want to get far from shore. I had strapped my "loaded" backpack to the forward deck and this made the kayak feel tippy initially. The reason for the backpack is because I haven't found a deck bag I like. Any suggestions from you folks would be great. Anyhow, I'm going no where fast so I decide to try my spare paddle. I had never intended to use my spare except in an emergency so I bought a cheap $30 symmetrical flat blade aluminum and plastic paddle. At this point I was thinking the flat symmetrical blades would be more like my canoe paddles that I was used to. The feather was much too much for my wrists though, so I un-feathered this paddle and actually had a few straight runs. It only took a little to start turning hard to port, but at this point I also had several unexplained hard turns to starboard. So much for the crooked U shaped keel theory.

The put in was in a sheltered area with the wind only 1-3 MPH (I'm using the chart from "Kayaking - Whitewater and Touring Basics by Steven Krauzer to estimate wind speed). Just rippled water. Something else I couldn't blame. I played around for about 10 minutes and headed north around Freestone Point. Rounding Freestone the wind really began to pick up. The wind was now probably 4-7 MPH from the North. The kayak held it's course well into the wind (or *maybe*, I was getting better at paddling).

This was the wide bay entrance to Neabsco creek, about 8/10ths of a mile across. I decided to cut straight across since I now felt pretty comfortable with the stability and heading straight into the wind was allowing me to paddle straighter. About half way across I passed the red and green channel markers and a green "can" buoy that was lying on its side. (Did I mention I was also paddling against the tide?) The waves were probably 6-8 inches here and I was having a lot of fun even though I wasn't making good forward progress. I also noticed at this point the water dripping on my spray skirt and PFD from my paddle was frozen solid. Just to as a matter of safety I took my whistle out of my PFD pocket and cleaned the ice off of it.

About 3/4 of the way across, the trees on the North side of Neabsco bay began to filter the wind for me and I began to make better speed. I didn't have as hard a time holding a line as when I first started, but I did occasionally resort to using my paddle as a rudder to swing me back on course. The North side of the bay is a National Wildlife Sanctuary and further inland I could see some huge nests in the trees (Bald Eagle?). Sea gulls and ducks were playing in the waters edge and I saw some sort of bird dive into the shallow water from about 30 feet.

Speaking of shallow, I was again in shallow water and made my way about 100 yards offshore so I would quit banging my paddle on the bottom. Once there, I noticed some black things bobbing another 100 yards out and headed towards them to check it out. When I got close I found this was a small rock jetty and I had to paddle another 50 yards offshore to go around it. The water was shallow near the jetty even this far from shore.

The wind continued to pick up and the waves were now getting big enough I could feel them lift the bow as I paddled through them. Featherstone Shores was now to the Northwest of me .8 miles and Deephole Point was 1.3 miles directly to my North. Between me and either one of these was a large bay and the wind was kicking up waves a good foot high and whitecaps were breaking all around. This might not sound big to most people, but they were huge compared to anything I had seen in my canoe. My hands were getting cold in this wind even through my neoprene gloves. I was no longer making much forward progress, so after taking a quick GPS reading I decided to head back. I had paddled a wimpy 2.5 miles but I doubted I could make much progress if I continued, especially with this un-feathered paddle.

Within moments of turning around a wave picked me up from behind and sent me zipping forward. Yea Ha! I only wish it was summer time so I wouldn't be so afraid of capsizing! Now with a tail wind and following seas, I rediscovered my control problem again. The kayak wanted to turn hard to starboard and run parallel to the waves and wind. Being broadside to the waves had me pretty worried at first, but the kayak felt stable as long as I maintained forward momentum. I was having too much fun riding the waves though to continue running parallel to them. I paddled hard on the starboard side, most of the time not even bothering to touch the paddle in the water on the port side (my canoe experience taking over). This worked keeping me going in the direction I needed to go, but if I got a little too far past center of the wave I found myself turning hard to the port side.

Even with the constant turning I was making good time on the trip back. The waves were still getting bigger as the wind continued to pick up so when I saw the little jetty again I decided to duck behind it to get a little relief. The Jetty was quickly out of site though and I was back in big water as I crossed the Neabsco Creek bay entrance.

At the midpoint of this crossing I became aware of how loud the whitecaps were as they came crashing down the front of the waves. This was getting to be real fun, and even at this point the kayak still felt stable. I could tell my heavy pack was affecting the stability if I leaned the kayak with my knees.

Back to Freestone Point and I can see someone working a metal detector at the put in. I try my best to hold a straight line now that someone might be watching. But there are only so many times you can pretend you meant to turn that way. Over this whole trip I found that when I didn't think about paddling the kayak ran straight as an arrow. Once the thought of control flickered through my mind I was suddenly turning hard. More practice and probably some instruction this summer are needed to break me from my canoeing bad habits.

I land on the beach without any problems and grab a pack of crackers and an apple for a quick snack. I want to get back on the water for a quick run with my pack stored below in the rear hatch. What a difference this seemed to make! I didn't track perfect, but did MUCH better. I quickly paddled out past Freestone to play in the big waves again. Again I was reminded how heading into the strong wind made my hands cold so I didn't stay long. The stable kayak I had grown used to over the last few hours was now even more stable and tracking well. I'm guessing the slight list of the kayak and large wind profile caused by my pack was a big part of my inability to track. The rest was just bad paddling habits.

When I started this project, I told my wife I would only promise to paddle it once. If I liked it, I would keep it and work kayak trips around my canoe fishing trips. If I didn't like it I would sell it. Hopefully from this story you can tell this kayak won't be for sale. I've satisfied my urge to paddle it until warmer weather though, and will spend the next month or so finishing up some minor details and getting it varnished.

Thanks to everyone who helped with all their advice both on this board and privately through email over the last few months. There are traces of your suggestions and encouragement all through this boat. I hope everyone has a great 1999!

Woody

Sunday's trip report

Trip #3

Map

What a great day for a paddle! Sunday morning at Leesavania State park and not a soul around. The kayak is loaded and I'm in the water by 7:30 am. Because of all the control problems I've been having, I want to spend a little time playing with trim to see if that helps. The heaviest thing I can move around is me, so I take out my seat and experiment with me in different places in the cockpit. The kayak runs straight as an arrow with me at the front of the coaming. So much for that idea. Beach, put the seat back in and I'm off for a Sunday stroll.

The water is quiet. Glassy water with waves only an inch high. As I round Freestone Point I look up and see a Bald Eagle flying in the trees at the top of the point. This is going to be a good day.

Time for paddling lesson #3. Track straight. There is no wind today so the only excuse I have is the boat and me, with me sitting higher on the scale. Like my previous two attempts I'm tracking like a sidewinder snake. I would start veering to the side and I would pull hard on that side a few times to bring me back in line. Only problem is I would swing on through to the other side and have to paddle hard on that side to start the whole process over again.

Time to stop. "Slow" I tell myself. I start paddling slow and lightly. Almost like using just the weight of my paddle to pull me forward. I focus on my compass mounted just to the rear of my forward hatch. I pick a heading and paddle lightly. Only when I veer to one side do I paddle a little harder on that side. Hey, this is working out pretty well. The downside is that looking at your compass all day is downright boring.

Time to try something new. I pick a point out in the distance, and try to keep my bow pointed right at it. This works too. I check my paddling: Not reaching forward enough - Leaving the blade in the water too long - No torso rotation - My hands are too low.But I'm going straight! I try to add a little reach and I'm veering off course again. I try to correct and swing through to the other side again. Stop. Accelerate slowly.

After getting back on track I try to rotate my torso. Off course again. Practice, practice, practice. This may sound terrible, but compared to my first time out where I managed to paddle in circles all day.I've made major progress! I've never been able to hold a line more than 20 feet before and now I'm paddling 100 yards or more in a *fairly* straight line. I'll work on style later.I want to just go straight for a while.

I fall in line behind some ducks. They're showing me the way, I'm just not sure where. After a few minutes they get bored and fly off. I managed to snap a picture or two.

About 4 1/2 miles out from the launch site I look out over about a mile and a half of open water to Mason Neck Park. For an instant I consider heading away from shore and across the open water, but quickly banish the thought from my mind. The water is just too cold for me to get far from shore. Instead I break out an apple and some crackers for a little snack.

This is the farthest I've been from the launch site, and even though I'm not yet tired, I decide to play it safe and head back. This is the calmest the water has been in my 3 trips here and if the wind picks up it could be a long paddle back. I notice that up ahead the water looks unusually smooth. Not a ripple.it looks almost like.. ICE!!! My bow cracks through the paper-thin ice with a noticeable crunch. The ice is so thin I wouldn't have any problem getting through it, but I don't know what lay ahead. I back out and go around.

Shortly after my close encounter with the ice, the first boat appears in the distance. I know from watching powerboats that there are 2 speeds: wide open and stop. This one is running wide open. I keep an eye on him since he is headed in my direction and he passes to my port about 50-60 feet away. The river is several miles wide here and this guy just wanted to make sure I saw him I guess. Fortunately for me, the boat is on plane and the wake is small. Other boats are seen screaming now from the boat ramps at Leesavania. When summer gets here I wonder if I'll have to find another place to paddle.

I finally make it back to the beach and I'm still feeling I have more energy. I decide to eat lunch and pull in next to a guy fishing off the bank. He's had no luck at all but we chat anyway for about 10 minutes while I munch away on my sandwiches. I wish him luck and I load myself back in the kayak to head south of the park.

Paddling south will take me across the boat ramps so I decide to paddle inside the no wake zone near the ramps. There are 3 boats all in the process of loading or unloading. I pass through quickly and round the corner into Powells Creek. This was full of ice last weekend so I didn't get a chance to explore it. Just past the train trestle I see a couple more men and a little toddler fishing. The water has gotten so shallow my paddle blade is scooping up mud so I decide to head back.

Back across the boat ramps one final time and pull in close to the beach. After a little sculling and bracing practice my arms are feeling pretty heavy so I decide it's time to go. I've got on last thing I need to do and that is a full immersion test of my new wet suit. I hate being cold, but there are just some things you need to test under controlled conditions before you need them in an emergency.

My paddling attire is my new wet suit I bought yesterday (2 piece sleeveless vest and pants), a pair of nylon pants (the kind teenagers like to wear.just don't tell my son I had them 8^), and paddling pants with neoprene seals at the waist and legs. Up top I'm wearing a heavy polyester football jersey, a liner from my field jacket (nylon shell and polyester filling) and a paddling jacket with neoprene neck and cuff seals.

I had a little trouble getting the water to work itself into the suit. After a minute or so I opened my neck seal to speed it up. My arms are quite cold. Much colder than with my other full body wet suit. I play around for about 10 minutes and decide I've had enough. I don't yet have a neoprene hood and my ears were cold with my now wet wool cap. This setup is good enough to keep me alive long enough to either get back in the boat or make it to shore..as long as I'm not too far from shore.

As one last final step (the old guy fishing thought I was crazy by now after seeing all this), I climb back in the boat and see if I'm able to warm up. My wool hat stayed cold until I thought to wring out the water and put it on just damp, then it worked ok. I wouldn't have wanted it in any wind though. My arms quickly warmed up after just a minute or two of paddling in a circle.

I beach one final time and pack everything into 3 bags and head for the truck, I get my homemade yak cart out of the truck and after strapping the kayak on and hauling it up to the truck I'm glad I took the time to build it. Half way back to the truck I see 3 deer standing by the road. My arms are dead tired and having the cart handy left me enough energy to heft the kayak up on top of the truck. My kayak only weighs 45 pounds, but after this trip it feels like 145.

One more trip under my belt and a much improved tracking ability. I'm far from having the kinks worked out, but getting better each time. I'm already looking forward to the next one.

Woody

Paddle in the rain? Are you crazy?

Trip #4

Maybe, but it's still fun when there is no wind. Since I wear glasses, rain can be a big pain if the wind is blowing. But this morning the rain was falling down straight and a waterproof hat with a large overhang is all it took to get me on the water. I'm sure anyone that saw me thought I was crazy, but I've slept in foxholes in worse weather and the solitude is good for the soul.

From Mason Neck State Park I headed east into Kanes Creek. My main goal for the day was to try out my new Greenland style paddle that I had just finished building on Saturday. I've had a control problem with my kayak that has gotten a little better each time I go out, but I suspected a part of my problem was applying too much power in my forward stroke. I was hoping the Greenland paddle would allow me to slow the boat down but maintain a higher cadence.

Aside from the ever-present ducks on the water, today I encountered several Bald Eagles and several flocks of geese. About a mile into Kanes creek I came across some restricted area signs prohibiting any further progress. A quick marking of the waypoint with my GPS and then it suddenly dawned on me that I had paddled all this way without any problems with control at all! The Greenland paddle had allowed me to keep a straighter course and since there were few correcting strokes, I was also maintaining a much higher speed. I had made up my mind to add a rudder to my kayak, but now I was undecided again. I wondered how well I would track in following seas and wind? I also notice there are some black specks now on my paddle between the loom and the root of the blade. I washed them off and forgot about them.

I headed back out of Kanes creek but not before noticing how the steep, sandstone/clay bank was literally falling into the water as I passed it by. Several trees had fallen recently and I made sure to stay far enough offshore not to let any trees fall on me. Several large clumps of mud slid into the water as I wondered how much erosion must take place in this area.

At the mouth of the creek I hugged the shoreline to the right. Many real *nice* homes along this shore. A lot of floating logs in the water today, and at times I felt more like I was on an obstacle course rather than Belmont Bay. As I came up on Fairfax Yacht club the rain stopped and was replaced by a slight wind out of the west. If the wind picked up it would make the ride back to the park easy since it was due east of me. I gawked at all the huge yachts under all the covered slips for a few minutes as I slowly passed by. I check my paddle again and I notice the black specks are pieces of my paddling glove. My paddle has only an oil stain finish and the bare wood has been chewing up my rubber palmed neoprene gloves. I pull out some duct tape and make a smooth gripping surface on my blade so my gloves don't wear through.

Further up river I passed under the Railroad Bridge and route 1. The wind seemed to have really picked up but I thought it might be because of how narrow it was through here. About half way between route 1 and I-95 I decided to eat lunch in the boat as the wind blew me back past Occoquan harbor. Next to the harbor was a large barge piled with sand anchored next to a cement factory. A long conveyor belt carried sand far up the bank.

Having finished lunch I realize the wind is really picking up. This will be a good test for my new paddle. I can't make out the park in the distance so I use the GPS to give me a bearing and then rotate the kayak to line up my compass. Now with a good point picked out on the shore to steer towards, I head off with the wind and waves at my back.

A mile from the park the waves are 8-12" high and the kayak is tracking great. The paddle makes it easy to make correcting strokes and when I get too far off I lean and bring the boat around in a hurry. I did learn a slight trick here: If I make a correcting stroke while the cockpit is on the crest of a wave, the boat spun almost like a top. If the cockpit was in a trough (bow and stern on a wave), the boat did not turn at all. Another way of bringing the boat back in line was to leave the paddle blade to the rear and use it as a rudder. I found this to be effective to keep me from broaching when I stopped to rest. Simply by trailing the paddle as a rudder I could keep the kayak pointed towards the park and maintain forward momentum without paddling.

Ok, I'm tracking well with the wind and waves directly to my back, and I already know the kayak tracks great straight into the wind. How about at angles? No time like the present to try. At first the kayak wanted to broach, but leaning solved that problem. I wasn't the best in the world, but was several orders of magnitude better than the first time I took the kayak out in this type of wind.

50 feet from the boat launch and time for a little bracing and sculling practice. I practice this every time I go out but so far haven't been in conditions where I needed a brace. I do use sculling to pull me in parallel to the shore and sometimes around tight spaces. The waves are dumping hard at the boat launch and there is no protected area to land. To make matters worse the launch is lined with heavy logs and rocks. I understand the need to protect the shoreline of the launch, but it makes landing in these conditions hazardous. Not to me, but to my kayak. Having one of these waves drop me on top of one of these jagged rocks would not make me happy. With about 5 feet between my bow and a log and another 5 feet between my stern and some rocks I slowly edged my way into the bank to suddenly be picked up and set down hard onto the shore. Another trip under the belt.

My Greenland paddle was a test paddle made from 2 - 1x4" pieces of Douglas Fir laminated together to make a 2x4. My next task will be to epoxy up some leftover cedar strips from my kayak to make a cedar paddle. And my decision to add a rudder is back on hold again..

A day of bridges

Trip #5

Map A Map B

I started a little later than I wanted and the wind is starting to kick up a small chop. Today's launch is at Gravelly Point, just north of Ronald Reagan International Airport on the Potomac. I always try to make the first half of my trip the hardest; paddling against the current and against the wind. Today would be no different but since I usually get on the water early, the wind is usually quiet for the first hour of paddling. Greg Hollingsworth wasn't kidding in his review of this launch site being close to the airport. The airport's approach lights run right through this little park!

I like to warm up slowly, but the wind was requiring me to put more effort than I wanted for a warm up. To make things easier I ferry across and take advantage of the lee on the far side near the bank. The Washington Monument is the most predominant feature on the landscape for miles around. The monument is covered all the way to the top with scaffolding while renovations take place. I can also make out the Capital building as I ferry across, but it is out of sight once I get to the other side.

The first set of bridges is a cluster of five: A train bridge, Metro (subway), US 1, and two bridges for I-395 (north and south bound) As I near the second I-395 bridge I notice a small log bobbing along. As I get closer to it though, I notice that it is moving a little unnaturally so I swing in for a closer look. At first I thought it might be a beaver, but as I got closer I see it is a pigeon. I have to admit, I'm not too fond of these birds, but this poor thing was having a hard time keeping his head above water. Thinking it might be diseased I used my paddle to lift up the bird and put it on my bow. I then paddled closer to the bank and once close enough lift him up on shore with my paddle. I may have just prolonged his suffering, but I like to think he warmed up and flew off while I paddled off.

Bridge #6 is the Memorial Bridge and crosses over to the Lincoln memorial. As I pause long enough to take a few pictures, I take note of all the joggers. Up and down the shoreline as far as I can see people are out getting exercise. At the closest point to the memorial from the water there are a *lot* of steps heading up near the monument. One of the joggers is running up and down the steps. Rocky style.

Across the river are Arlington cemetery and the grave of John F. Kennedy. Even though I can't see it, over behind the Lincoln memorial is the Vietnam veteran's memorial. I remember when the family and I visited the Vietnam memorial a few years back. I couldn't bring myself to actually walk down to the wall and stayed back as my wife and kids walked down to see it. This section of river seems like such a sad place to be all the sudden.

Bridge #7 is the Theodore Roosevelt Bridge. I take the East (long) path around Roosevelt Island. While cruising along I suddenly realize I'm being overtaken by another rowing craft. This thing looks like a kayak with an upturned bow and stern and a place for 5 people to sit. There is also a large outrigger to the side. This isn't like the rowing scows like I'm used to seeing with everyone sitting backwards and moving the boat forward with oars and sliding seats. This craft is paddled like a canoe and has no sliding seats.

As I round the end of Roosevelt Island I see some large signs like those seen in the outfield in a baseball park. The signs are just above the water and look like they are attached to the concrete bank up ahead. From here I make out the word "Fox" and I think how tacky it is to advertise this way. But as I get closer, the word "Fox" becomes a 4-letter "F" word followed by "Kenneth Starr". The other signs I can now tell are spray painted and contain either school or gang names.

Bridge #8, the Key Bridge is my final vehicle bridge for this trip. The guy who said there is more than one way to do something must have been referring to bridges when he said that. Not one of the bridges shares a single common feature and the Key Bridge is no different. A bridge of arches, with tall narrow arches filling in above the main arches.

My preplanning had this point as where I turn around and head back. According to the GPS I had traveled only 3 miles (as the crow flies) and I wasn't yet tired so I pressed on. Up in the middle of the river is 3 Sisters Islands, which turns out to not be islands at all. Instead, they are just 3 rather large boulders. On the first I found a few ducks sleeping and I moved in close to get a picture. The click from my camera woke them up but they remained calm and didn't panic even though I could have reached out and touched them. From here on up the river the city seemed to fade away even with no leaves on the trees. The steep bank hid the hustle and bustle and the paddle became quiet and peaceful.

Another half a mile or so and I start to hear rushing water. I can't see any rapids but the sound of rushing water is loud. Finally a side stream comes into view and water is rushing through what seems to be a small dam. This water appears treated though and has an artificial green color to it. A little farther up and the sea gulls are flocking around something. I paddle up to find another stream feeding water with a high solid content into the river. The gulls are diving in trying to get something but I can't tell what it is. I paddle just a little further and decide to head back after eating lunch in the kayak.

The water is moving downstream pretty fast. I hadn't noticed while paddling against it but I just enjoy the ride while scarfing down my lunch. The GPS says I'm 4.5 miles from the put-in and I hope the paddle back is a quick one.

People are now out in force jogging, walking, and roller blading up and down the riverbank. My wooden kayak draws a lot of attention and more than once I notice someone stop and check me out. I'm beginning to feel a little self-conscious and try to make sure my paddling is somewhat straight. I take the western track around Roosevelt Island this time around. This brings me under a small pedestrian bridge that allows people to cross over to Roosevelt Island. About 6 or 7 people stop on the bridge to watch me pass under and now I *am* self-conscious about my paddling.

The wind has died and the water turned to glass. It's a long paddle back under the remaining bridges and I'm glad to see the inlet leading to the put-in. There are people now at the boat ramp and I'm too tired to make a nimble exit from the kayak. A controlled tip/slip slide and I'm out and standing with big smiles on everyone's face. I mumble something about "being too tired to make it look graceful" to the people close by and they nod in agreement.

After getting home and downloading the GPS track into the computer I find today's paddle covered 11 miles. This is my longest trip yet and I'm feeling a little bit of it tonight.

Trash Day

Trip #6

Map

It must have been 7:30 or so when I got to Belle Haven Marina. This is the first time I've launched from this location. I parked my truck near the ramp and walked down to the water to check out the put in. On the way back to my truck an elderly man showed up and I started to ask him where I needed to pay my launch fee, but he spoke first telling me it was $3. We both agreed it was supposed to be a nice day, with only the threat of an afternoon shower. The old fella mentioned that "Eric" had already left with his rowing shell for his row down to Mt Vernon and back. I got the impression the guy expected all of us human powered boaters to know one another.

The goal of today's paddle is to test out some new foam outfitting I've taped inside my cockpit. Last weekend left the back of my legs sore. After playing around at home I was able to add some support to my lower thighs and come up with a comfortable fit.

After unloading the truck and carrying everything to the water, the last thing I do is take out a rain coat from my dry bag and slip it into the cockpit. After launching I notice no wind but small waves coming out of the southeast. The wind is supposed to be out of the southwest today changing to westerly later in the afternoon. I decide to ferry across the river to Rosier Bluff.

The boat feels great! My legs are able to brace against the foam easily and I feel like part of the boat with just the slightest tightening of my legs.

I was about to learn something new. I found as I was crossing the small waves at a little less than a 45 degree angle, that I made good time if I paddled just as the wave passed the cockpit and then waited for the next one to paddle on the other side. The wave would lift me slightly, and when timed just right with the paddle stroke, I got an extra boost down hill.

A half-hour into the paddle and my butt hurts. It's a sharp pain and I wonder if my new foam setup is causing it.

At Rosier Bluff I see where a rectangle section of land had broken loose and all the trees and plants in the section had slid down the face of the bluff. Most of the trees remained upright despite sliding about 30 feet down the side of a hill. This section of the river is Ft Foote Park, and as I paddle further downstream I notice Ft Foote road up above. Below the road, scattered down the side of the hill, are tires, a washing machine, a water heater, sink, and many other things that don't naturally grow along the bank.

It's beginning to rain! It isn't supposed to rain till this afternoon. Time to stop and pop the spray skirt long enough to retrieve my raincoat. I know it seems silly to have all this paddling gear on and still carry a raincoat, but it is the only thing I have with a hood, and this helps keep the rain off my face.

The pain is gone from my butt now, but my thighs no longer feel as comfortable as when I started out. Instead of pressing hard against the foot pegs like last week, I notice I tend to press hard with my thighs against the foam.

Down by Indian Queen Bluff, a pair of Bald eagles sitting high in a tree along the bank were kind enough to let me paddle by without flying off. My encounters with the Bald eagle in the past never allowed me to get so close. It is at this point I remember I forgot the camera. What good is a checklist if you can't remember to use it?

I turn left into Broad Creek. Wide and shallow, I work my way into the creek looking at the houses. Floating loose is one of those white sponsoon shaped boat bumpers so I lash it to the rear deck. When the water gets too shallow I head back out into the river and continue downstream.

This section of the river is called Riverview, and has some beautiful homes. Big bay windows seem to be the construction theme. Down river I see two large boats sitting **on top** of a dock. This I had to see a little closer. As I approached from the North I was perplexed as to how these boats had been lifted up on the dock. But as I passed by I now see the boats are sitting on a cradle that can be lowered into the water. Not so perplexing after all.

The wind has picked up a little and is now out of the Southwest. Time to ferry back across river and head back to the launch site. More nice houses on the west side of the river giving way to what I think is referred to as tidal flats. Being a Florida boy it looks like swampland to me. I take some time to explore down inside this swamp and quickly loose sight of all the houses. Ducks and geese are heavy in this secluded area. There is a definite current flowing North through here and the water is only about one foot deep. The uninhabited areas of the river I have noticed are the trashiest. Beer bottles, soda cans, plastic bottles, all manners of floatable trash. I think if I were to build a floating dock I could just boat around and collect enough of those large floats and drums that have come loose from other docks and not have to buy any.

I work in and out of the flats slowly making my way north and finally decide to stop for lunch just above Hog Island. Nothing but trees and trash all around as I eat my lunch. States should start an adopt a waterway campaign to complement their adopt a highway programs. The rain has stopped so I take off my raincoat and stow it below deck. Out in the main channel a boat has stopped and I see a man franticly searching for something. Then he starts bailing water out like crazy. I wonder if putting in the drain plug is on his checklist.

After lunch I paddle the last mile and a half back to the launch site. The wind has died and the water has turned to glass. Across the river is a sailboat but it doesn't appear to be making any progress.

I'll need to paddle with my current foam outfitting again before I make up my mind to change it or not. My legs aren't sore at least. A nine-mile paddle today and I again struggle to get out of the boat gracefully. At least no one is watching this time.

Circumnavigation of Burke Lake

Trip #7

Map

Today is a short 4.5-mile paddle around the perimeter of Burke Lake. Burke is known for having the highest number fish caught per fisherman ratio despite heavy fishing pressure. I've never been here, but I do want to check it out as a possible fishing location this spring. The lake is limited to electric and human powered craft only.

At the public boat ramp there is a crowd of people gathering. Cars will pull up and park, a small group forms, and off they go for a jog around the lake. This happens continuously as I get the boat ready to launch.

At the ramp, a couple of young men are trying to patch a raft. The hole is bigger than my fist so I don't think they will have much luck. I chat a few minutes with them as they ask me lots of questions about the kayak. "Have you ever been down rapids with it?", "That's really wood?", "How much does something like that cost?"

I'm off and sprinting counter clockwise around the lake. The jogging path can be seen almost all the way around the lake from the water. I stick to within 20 feet of shore, but occasionally venture out further to pass around the thick water grass near the bank.

The livestock in this lake are quite used to people. They usually allowed me to paddle on by without flying away. Even the geese don't fly away though they honk loudly at me.

There is little wind. The forecast calls for rain, which is one reason I chose a launch site nearer the house than the Potomac. It looks for the moment like the sky might actually clear and the sun peek out from the clouds.

The lake is roughly shaped like a "Y" and as I round the bottom section and head towards the right fork, a bass boat with a trolling motor attached heads the same way so I pick up the speed to try and out run it. The bass boat though provides little competition and admits defeat by stopping about mid way to the other end of the lake. I feel sorry for the humility the guy must feel having let a rookie kayaker beat him. Of course I'm sure he'll tell all of his fishing buddies that he let me win.

Turning once again in the right branch of the "Y" and heading back to enter the left branch, I notice the sky has clouded up again and the wind is picking up. The paddle back to the boat ramp will be against the wind and I'll sprint this section also to get a little more exercise. But before I do I grab a short breather in the left fork and watch the joggers go by. More accurately, I watch the joggers watch me watching them as they go by. Not many kayaks out on this lake before I suspect, and even less wood strip kayaks.

Having rested, I start my sprint back. According to the GPS, I'm maintaining about a 4.6 - 4.8 MPH pace, but I don't know how accurate that is. I noticed while I was stopped a few minutes ago the GPS showed 0.0, which was accurate, but sometimes I've seen it show 1.5 MPH while standing perfectly still.

I pass the County park where several people have come to watch the sea gulls swarm around. Several people are fishing from the dock and I swing wide to make sure I don't disturb their lines. One more minor turn into the channel for the boat launch and I'm finished for the day.

At the ramp, a guy is loading his fiberglass canoe in his truck. His dog is in the cab warming up (he looks wet) and the guy dumps a bunch of water from the canoe. I think the boat may have had a hole in it because he put in right behind me earlier and he looks dry himself.

As I'm slipping sideways up to the ramp he strikes up a conversation with me about the boat. I should practice this move a little more with this Greenland style paddle. I don't seem to be as good with it as my aluminum and plastic paddle. I pop the skirt and swing my butt up onto the back deck. Before I can get my feet out and on the ground the kayak flips towards the deep end of the ramp and dumps me out and flips the boat upside down. Another graceful exit. Maybe I should just flip over and wet exit to get it over with faster. Sheesh. My paddling may be getting better, but my exit has gone downhill.

The guy I was chatting with is now freaking out. "Your clothes are all wet! You need to warm up in your car!". I tell him to relax and un-velcro the cuff of my paddling pants to show him the legs of my wet suit. We chat a little longer while I upright the boat and carry all my stuff up to the truck.

Once he leaves I pull my truck down to the ramp and load the kayak. The ramp is right next to the jogger path and "every" person who comes by either tells me how beautiful it is ("Thank you!") or wants to stop and chat about it. It takes a good 30 minutes to just load the boat on the truck and strap it down. It begins to sleet... Trip # 7 is complete.

An open water crossing

Trip #8

Map

It's my son's birthday and while the kids are at school I'm sneaking off for my first open water crossing. This time out I'm using a different tie down system on my - barely a week old - Yakima racks. After loading the truck and leaving the house I realize after getting up to about 35 MPH that I forgot to put a couple of twists in the straps. Hoowwwllll. I need to stop at the ATM anyway so I get some money and twist the straps a few times and I'm on my way.

I get to Leesylvania State Park about 7:45 and the creeks on either side are clear of ice. The temperature is supposed to get into the 50's today but right now it is probably about 25. For some reason it takes me a while to get everything down to the water and the kayak all set to go. It's almost 8:30 before I'm ready to pull away from shore. There is no wind and small waves. This afternoon should bring a light breeze out of the West which means I should be paddling mostly into the wind on the return trip.

Somewhere out there on a heading of 140 degrees is my first nav point. A green can buoy by the name of G47. I can't see it from here but I see something flickering in the water on that heading so I use this unknown item as my intermediate destination. The buoy is about 2/3 of the way across the Potomac from my launch point.

A mile out from shore the shimmering target I was shooting for turns out to be 3 soda bottles tied to something below. For some reason it occurs to me that I forgot to set up the tracking log on the GPS. Stopping just long enough to start the log, I notice the buoy now a little less than a mile distant. The tide is running out but I have no idea how fast. I steer to the port about 5 degrees hoping to compensate for the current. It doesn't appear to be running fast.

This is not enough and I turn more and more to the North to compensate for the outgoing tide. At the buoy I notice the current is moving at a good clip past the base of the buoy. I still don't know how fast it's moving. The GPS is no help because it shows me moving at 0 MPH even though I am drifting with the tide. Guessing these low speeds will come with experience I guess.

On across the river to Deep Point. There is a US Naval propellant plant there along with a lot of no trespassing signs. I pass a couple of kids fishing in a small boat as I round the point. They look pretty cold and miserable.

Having completed my first open water crossing I make my way towards Sweden Point marina. I notice over my shoulder a tugboat pushing a barge loaded with sand. I speculate that they are probably headed over to the cement factory I noticed during trip #4.

The rest of the trip to Sweden Point and General Smallwood State Park is uneventful. The small bay next to the marina is pretty icy, which caught me by surprise since all the ice is gone on the Virginia side of the river. After landing next to the boat ramps I grab my lunch and head up to a picnic table to grab a bite. I had bought some new waterproof hunting gloves the previous day and I had been using them on this paddle. Now that I had stopped, my hands were no longer warm and the gloves were soaked all the way through. I knew there was a reason I tossed some other gloves in my forward hatch before leaving.

The dry gloves got my hands warm again and I ate my lunch while I called my wife to let her know I had made it half way. She was just thrilled I had woken her to tell her I was alive. Geez it's 10:00, get up! I needed an excuse to use the new cell phone I had gotten her for Valentine's day, but she wasn't amused so I finished brunch and walked around the boat ramps a bit. This place was obviously equipped for fishing tournaments.

As I was packing up to go, a dad and young boy about 8 or 9 showed up. "What is that called?" "Is it made out of wood?" "Can you fish from it?" "Can I ride in it?" (Dad answered the last question for me) After chatting for a few minutes I shoved off for the return trip.

After passing Deep Point again I can't help notice the wind has picked up. Not real strong but enough I need to make some small zig zags through the water to keep on course and keep the boat from broaching. At the buoy I notice the current has slowed but the waves are picking up. My zigging gets a little bigger, first heading into the waves at a little more than 45 degrees, then turning to ride the following seas.

Two thirds of the way across and the wind now has about 12 miles of open water to blow across before getting to me. The Guillemot seems rock solid stable and even though some waves are now approaching 1 1/2 feet, her ability to turn on a dime makes this play fun. The zigs and zags are pronounced now as I paddle for a while directly into the waves with my bow lifting over and dropping down the backside in a gentle slap of the water. Then turn to run at almost wave speed at a slight angle to the waves. I could probably do this all day, but there is a birthday party to go to so I head on in to the beach.

Once on shore I decided to see how long it would take to pump out the cockpit with the electric bilge pump if it became swamped. Try as I might, I couldn't get any more than about 1/4 - 1/3 of the cockpit volume filled with water, even with me sitting in it. I'm starting to draw attention so I flip on the switch to allow it to empty. About 2 minutes later the pump is spitting out the last few drops while I strap on the yak cart for the trip back to the truck. I didn't think about it at the time, but I should have sat in the kayak while it pumped out. I think the low spot is behind my seat, but I need to check this at some time to be sure.

Lets go get some cake.

The Invisible Island

Trip #9

Map

Today I paddled my kayak for the first time with a partner. We had planned to meet about 8:00am at Belle Haven Marina, but I got there a little early. It takes me a while to unload the truck and stow it away inside the kayak, and I wanted to take the kayak out for a quick spin before Joan showed up.

Like all of my trips, I try to have a goal or two to accomplish while on the water. Today it would be to test my freshly installed Seaward rudder system. After loading up the kayak and parking the truck I jumped in the kayak and piddled around in the little inlet next to the boat rental area. I spent a few minutes adjusting the rudder pedals and straps and had just finished up when Joan drove up.

We exchanged hellos and carried her boat to the water and set off to find Goose Island. Actually, we had agreed in advance to head 'towards' Goose Island, and if either of us got tired we would turn around and head back. Exiting the inlet we turned North into the Potomac passing the rest of the marina. Just to the North of the marina is a big bay which eventually narrows to become Hunting Creek.

The wind was blowing hard, but the waves were not large and seemed confused. We stayed to the left and followed the bay around trying to avoid the worst of the wind. At least until our paddles started turning more mud than water. Unable to follow the bay along the bank any longer, we headed straight across to Jones Point. The Guillemot was tracking straight. A task I would not have been able to accomplish before the rudder in this type of wind. Joan's Breeze was also tracking well and this allowed us to stay close enough to have a conversation for most of the time.

Rounding Jones Point and heading under the Woodrow Wilson Bridge, we encountered the full force of the wind. Progress was slow, but we also were using just a steady, a little slow, touring/site seeing pace. If I had been alone I would have probably quickly burned out trying to get through the wind. For today, slow was good. I couldn't get over how hard the wind was blowing, but only about 6-8 inch waves. Even so, I was looking forward to the return trip to see how the rudder handled in following seas.

Having passed the bridge, which marked the almost half way point to the Island, I started looking. On Street Atlas and my tidal Potomac River map the Island was a decent size. Clearly between 1/6 and 1/8 the width of the river in diameter, we should have no problem seeing it...but it must be up further than I thought, because I don't see it. Joan pointed out and identified several buildings to me on river left.

Paddling further and further North I check the GPS and find we're beyond where the Island is...err was...umm supposed to be. The whole trip was to be between 6 1/2 - 7 miles long. Here we were at 3.6 miles out as the crow flies, and there is no island! We're both about ready for some lunch, and Joan spots 2 likely landing areas. One has a picnic table, so it was an easy decision on which spot to choose.

Landing was uneventful and I even managed to get out of the kayak without making a big splash. I took off my wet gloves and exchanged them for a drier pair and unloaded lunch from the kayak. After boiling some water for Cappuccino and hot chocolate we ate lunch and chatted for a few minutes. Joan had gotten the beginnings of a few blisters on her hands so I actually got to break out my first aid kit for the first time. A few Band-Aids later we were all loaded back up and headed South looking again for Goose Island.

The forecast had called for diminishing winds in the afternoon, and I was disappointed the following seas were not following like I had hoped. There was enough to judge there was substantial improvement in my tracking. Joan was also tracking well but she did say the back end felt a little less in control, and had to work harder to keep her boat straight.

By the time we got back to the marina the water was smooth and Joan suggested we paddle down to Dyke Marsh. What I had thought was a connected peninsula was actually two distinct Islands. I had paddled part of this general area the last time here, but Joan knew a lot more about its layout. After a short little bit we headed back to the marina even though Joan was having a blast and didn't want to leave. At the marina I took out her little Breeze for a few minutes and was really impressed at how well it tracked. Its larger cockpit and taller deck made it easy for me to get in and out of, and there was plenty of room for my feet. Considering how well it tracked, it also wasn't hard to turn.

After loading up the boats and gear we said our good-byes and briefly discussed paddling next weekend. The rudder installation was a big success although I still want to try it in some larger following seas. It wasn't until I returned home that my wife told me my face was sunburned...Spring is almost here!

And whoever took Goose Island...please put it back.

Homes of the Homeless

Trip #10

Map

Friday I called Joan to see if she would mind me changing the launch site. We had planned to meet at Leesylvania State Park for a trip South, but tide and wind made a trip north a better choice. We decided to meet at Gravelly Point instead on the North end of Reagan National Airport at 8:00am. This would give us 2 hours paddling with the tide and both wind and tide at our back for the return trip.

After getting to the launch site and unloading my kayak I milled around a short while until Joan showed up. She had gotten little sleep the night before and decided not to go out this morning. I thought for a minute about loading the boat back up and going somewhere else since I have paddled this part of the Potomac before. Then I remembered across the river was the Anacostia River. I told Joan my intention to paddle up that way and said goodbye.

After a brisk paddle east across the Potomac I turned southeast to head around East Potomac Park. Today a 5K run is just getting underway and I swing northeast into the Anacostia and paddle by the Washington Channel.

Passing a boat marina to my left the first bridge for today is the Douglas Bridge. Several barges with cranes aboard are underneath and people are busy at work on the bridge. Between marinas on river left is large factory style buildings and just around the corner is the Washington Navy Yard. Tied to the pier is a ship with a large gun on the front and one on the rear. I don't know much about Navy ships so I can't tell you what type it is. The number on the side is 933 and it looks fast. More Info

The next two bridges are the north and southbound lanes of I-295. The southbound bridge makes a tremendous amount of noise as cars drive across. The catwalk underneath the bridge sounds loose, as there is a lot of metal rattling every time a vehicle crosses the bridge.

On river right is the Anacostia State Park and joggers are just starting to appear. A group of 4 young kids are walking along the river moving at about the same pace as myself. They keep up for about a half-mile but finally get in a car with someone and leave.

Under the Sousa Bridge next and up the river is a bridge that appears too low for me to pass under. I paddle up close anyway and find I have plenty of room to get under the bridge. This is a railway bridge and doesn't appear on my river map, but does appear on the GPS. Just prior to the bridge some folks have put out canoes on river right. This looks like it might be a good launch site for trips further upriver.

The river splits with a long narrow strip of land between just past the Railway Bridge. I stay to the right as I notice my Potomac River map ends at this point. I know the two sections of river join back together up ahead, but I don't remember how far. To my left is RFK Memorial Stadium.

The river through here has been lined with a short retaining wall. On the right there are several places where this wall has been compromised and I suspect may do more harm than good if not repaired. On the left (the island) are thick trees and all kinds of different types of birds.

I suddenly get the eerie feeling I'm being watched. I start looking through the dense trees on the island and spot what at first seems like a building hidden among the brush. A closer look and now I can tell this is a shanty. A small dwelling assembled of all manners of materials. As a child I would have called this hideaway in the woods a "fort", although this one has much better craftsmanship than anything I could have built as a kid. And much larger. The smell of a wood burning fire fills the air as suddenly a large dog. No, make that a HUGE dog, comes charging towards the water from out of nowhere. This dog looks like a small bear and not friendly.

The dog is called off and I now see the eyes that were making me feel uneasy. We exchange waves and he turns back to warming himself by a small fire in a barrel. Deep in the trees are a few more dwellings that will be invisible to the world once the spring leaves come out.

Under the East Capital Bridge and more birds and the plastic litter becomes thick on the river's edge. At times I'm wondering if there is any other litter besides plastic bottles because it seems to be the most predominate form of litter. Benning Bridge and a Metro Rail bridge are next in this day of bridges. I'm convinced most bridge architects only live long enough to build one bridge. The diversity in bridge design is just too varied for any one man to have built more than one.

I finally reach the end of the island and decide to paddle back on the other side. There is a golf course on this end of the island and a wooden walkway going from the island to the riverbank. Shortly after crossing under the bridge the water gets shallow. With the now outrunning tide I get a little concerned the water may get too shallow on this side of the island and turn around to go back the way I came. I would later learn I was only 1 mile from the Kenilworth Aquatic Gardens.

The trip back along the island is much the same as the trip up. Including the DOG. Damn that's a big dog. As I get near the Railway Bridge the canoes are out and it looks like they are on a mission to pick up the plastic bottles along the riverbank.

Back past the Sousa and I-295 bridges. As I get near the Douglas Bridge a tugboat has arrived and is in the process of repositioning a barge. I decide to just hold tight where I am and stay out of the way. The barge is repositioned in short order and I'm on my way again. The 5K run in East Potomac Park has now been replaced by a soccer game. I stop at the edge of the Potomac just long enough to take a bearing to Gravelly Point. There are boats out and about so I take a little more direct route to the other side and then turn north to head into the boat ramp.

Near the boat ramp I pop the spray skirt and put away the GPS and adjust my seatback to as far to the rear as possible. This allows me to scoot back a little more in the seat to make more room to get my legs out. I raise the rudder and after sculling sideways up to the ramp I get my feet and legs out of the cockpit and just stand up. This is the easiest exit I've made yet. I did have a hard time getting my legs past the coaming but it kept the center of gravity low and the kayak stayed stable by keeping my butt in the seat until my legs were out.

Total trip today is 13.41 miles as measured by the GPS track and Street Atlas, my longest trip by almost 2 1/2 miles. I'm tired but not exhausted. The rudder has easily added several miles to my comfortable endurance level since I can spend more time going straight and less energy trying to correct my course. The big lesson today is in how I park when loading/unloading the boat. I had pulled partway down the boat ramp while loading and ended up in such a manner that the back of the truck was high in the air. This made getting the kayak back on difficult. Next time I'll park on flat ground and just carry the boat up to it.

Staying out of the wind

Trip #11

The plan changed from going to Black Swamp Creek on the Patuxent River to North Beach on the western shore of the Chesapeake at the last minute. I wanted to go explore Calvert Cliffs and thought today may be a good day. After a late start and an hour and a half on the road, I arrived at the North Beach pier. I parked along the street and walked across a small sandlot to look at the water.

The waves are not too big but the water is choppy. Worse, the wind is out of the north and blowing hard. To get to Calvert Cliffs I would need to paddle south, with the wind. This means a long and hard paddle back and one I'm not looking forward to. I decide that today's conditions are beyond my abilities and grudgingly make my way back to the truck.

I'm bummed. Tomorrow I've promised the kids to do something with them so there will be no paddle this weekend. On the way back, I remember I'm pretty close to where I wanted to go on the Patuxent. I head off in search for a place to launch near Black Swamp Creek. The first road I try, Milltown Landing, ends in someone's yard. One road further up is Magruders Ferry Road, and this place has a small boat ramp sponsored by the Patuxent River Park. As soon as I enter, I realize I'm about to learn more than I want about special use permits. There are a few signs saying they are required, so I ask a couple of fishermen where I can get a permit. They give me directions and tell me the permit is $5 and lasts all year.

Back in the truck for a 9-mile journey the way I came in. The Patuxent River Park main building is in Upper Marlboro and when I finally get there, the door is locked. I notice a note that says "Back in 5 minutes" so I decide to wait. A couple of minutes later an elderly man in a uniform comes back. I ask for a permit and he says "Sure!", followed by a whole lot of nice comments about my kayak. On the way in the guy looks at my license plate and tells me he can't sell me a permit because I don't live in Maryland. Blast! I ask about a permit for out of state folks and the only thing they have is a $7one-day permit. Having driven this far I wasn't about to leave now, so I asked him to sell me one while we continued to talk about the building of my kayak. After a minute or so he asks if this is my first time here, and I tell him it is. "This one is on me then" and he hands me the permit free of charge. I thank him many times, buy a river map and pick up a tide table from him and I'm on my way for the 9-mile trip back to Magruders.

Back at the ramp the wind is now blowing hard. The first fishermen I met here are gone and have been replaced by a few more. I unload the boat and head off down river with the wind.

The wind through here is strange. Because of the trees, the wind first seems to be out of the North. The waves come in sets of small, then large, then small again. The first large set caught me by surprise and tried to turn the boat, but I was able to quickly get the kayak turned back in line to travel with the wind. I decide not to go too far because the wind is really blowing hard and I want to be sure I can get back. A few minutes later and now the wind and waves are coming out of the east.

I find a little inlet leading back into the swamp. I've never been here before but I was expecting something a little bigger. I pull the rudder up to allow me to maneuver better but the further I went in, the more narrow it got. The "channel" was only about a foot deep and at times no wider than my kayak. As I twisted and turned through the marsh I realized that places to turn around was getting scarce and I didn't want to have to back out. I was also getting worried that the further I went in, the harder it would be to find my way back. Without my GPS (I sent it in for an upgrade) I had no track log I could use to help me figure out all these twisty side trails. So turn around I did and after a few minutes I was back out at the Patuxent.

I decided to head further on down and it wasn't long before I found the "real" entrance to Black Swamp Creek. This was much wider and deeper with plenty of room to turn. With my rudder back down I found I could move along at a pretty good clip when the wind was at my back with little or no paddling.

This area is populated by duck blinds, and with good reason. There were all types of ducks and waterfowl back in this creek. The further I went back, the more birds I saw, including a pair of Bald Eagles. A couple of geese and many bends in the river later, I decided I better head back since the wind is not letting up and is becoming more steady.

The creek runs through a tall grass marsh. In Florida, this would be prime gator country, and I would have my eyes peeled looking for the sleeping beasts. Naturally, as soon as that thought finishes running through my head there is a HUGE splash not 3 feet from me in the grass! I don't know what it was, maybe a beaver, but it sure got my heart racing for a moment.

The paddle back is mostly against the howling wind. Luckily, a kayak is close to the water and it doesn't take much of an obstruction to create a lee near the bank. The tall swamp grass is all I need to find a nice place out of the wind just a foot or two from it. Making it back to the river I decided to finally to get some exercise and take off full bore into the wind.

The wind and waves are from the east and I need to apply left rudder to hold a course to the north and keep my kayak from turning into the wind. I sprint for a while until the wind and waves suddenly change out of the north. This is quite different than the waves I've encountered before. Although I've been in bigger waves, the frequency is much closer together. The waves are still in sets and after a good workout I head across the river to take advantage of the small lee against the river grass.

It is an easy paddle against the grass though I can see the tops of the waves turning white on the other side of the river. After getting close to the launch site I cut back across the river and make a prefect landing (meaning I didn't fall in trying to get out). No one is around as I load the boat and fix a little lunch before getting on the road. I think I might like to come back on a calmer day...even if it does cost me $7.

The death of winter

Trip #12

MAP

06:10 am and I'm ready to go. I'm not expected to be there till 8:00, but I head out anyway. I'll get to spend a little time with sculling and bracing before Joan shows up. I get to Leesylvania State Park about 6:40. The sign out front says the park opens at 7:00, but the gate is open so I go on in. I'm a little surprised someone is manning the pay area when entering the park. Normally I'm filling out an envelope and dropping the money in the honor system tube.

On in the park I was really caught off guard by the number of boats scurrying around already. Worse, the parking lot in the park is already half full of empty boat trailers. I unload my kayak and make for the beach while watching the constant stream of boats buzzing around like angry bees. By 7:00 I'm on the water and spend the next 20 minutes seeing how far I can lean my kayak on edge and not flip over.

The water is much warmer today. This may be because of the shallow Occoquan bay nearby has allowed the water to warm more quickly. I finally park the yak and walk back near the truck to wait for Joan. 8:00 on the button a red kayak appears through the trees. We unload her boat and connect her wheels for the journey down to the beach. After loading up I tell Joan the game plan to track near shore, duck into the no wake zone while passing the boat ramps, and then hug the shore until we get to a far point of land in the distance (cockpit point).

Getting by the boat ramps proved a little intimidating. Most of the boaters were courteous. This held true for the entire day. The paranoia ran high, but all in all the boaters behaved themselves. The key was being visible. Most boats today went out of their way to give way once they saw us. As we passed Cherry Hill marina Joan pointed out an odd shaped object. An ultra light airplane was assembled and sitting next to the dock.

So far we had seen several ospreys in the process of collecting twigs for their nest. This seemed to be the predominate animal activity for the day. As luck would have it, I didn't see a single bald eagle today. Unusual for one of my Potomac trips.

As we got nearer to Cockpit Point we saw what appeared to be a bridge going out across the water. But as we got nearer, the bridge turned into a place for ships to moor and a pipeline that ran back to the shore. On the bank huge, poorly maintained storage tanks stuck out like an eye sore.

Between Possum Nose and Possum Point power station we decide to make for the beach to stretch for a few minutes. It feels like I'm sitting on a nerve in my backside and the pain is shooting down my left leg. As we near the beach the waves are dumping loudly on the shore. The waves weren't big, but they sounded big. We spent a little time scouting before finally heading in and jumping out of the kayaks the best we could.

After a walk up and down the short beach a few times, we head back for the water and pass the Possum Point power station. I'm always amazed at how much machinery it takes to generate electricity. We round Possum Point and turn in to Quantico Creek. This creek is much larger than I had expected with fairly steep banks. We scoot across to the far shore to look at where the bank has slid into the creek. The land has sheared off straight and vertical and someone has carved initials into the clay. Up a little further and we decide to head back. We are out much further than I had planned, but the nice easy pace has kept me from getting tired.

On the way out there is a crude boat ramp on the marine base side of the creek. We paddle over to investigate this as a possible future launch point. A guy is wading in the water a little over waist deep and fishing. I ask him a few questions about the boat ramp and the fishing and then continue heading back towards Leesylvania. The power plant seems to be a popular fishing spot. As a boat would leave, another seemed to come screaming in to take its place.

Beyond the power plant there are some high voltage power lines that span the river to the Maryland side. Just past the power lines we beach so I can walk off the pinched nerve again and eat some lunch. Joan has been using a Greenland paddle she borrowed from me to see how well it works. She seems to like it a lot.

After lunch we head back up to Cockpit Point. A couple of older folks are bank fishing and having to share the spot with a couple of younger guys. As we are paddling by, one of the young guys picks up a dog and walks out about knee deep and throws the dog as far as he can. I suspect there was something wrong with one of them, and to me, other than being wet the dog seemed fine.

Back down again in the Cherry Hill section and the marina with the ultra light. One boat came in behind us and just idled along and waited for us to pass the marina before they headed in themselves. We thought about crossing directly to Leesylvania from here, but the number of boats zipping by discouraged us from getting far from shore.

After crossing in front of the Leesylvania boat ramps once again, we beach at the launch site to the delight of a small child just of walking age. With all these people around, my exit better be flawless. I pop the skirt, push my backrest back and squeeze my feet and legs past the coaming. Pivot up, and I'm standing! Ta da!

Joan mentioned as we were dollying the boats back to the parking lot that the 12 miles were not near as tiring as the 100 yards back to the car. I agree.

The weather was perfect. Light winds, warm but not hot. The boats are out in force. The winter has died, or at least been beaten into submission and the green of spring is born.

And Mardi Makes Three

Trip #13

Map A Map B

My Internet connection is down, so while I wait (and wait, and wait) on the phone for tech support, I thought I would jot down a few things about yesterday's trip on the Patuxent.

I was to pick up Joan at the Patuxent River Park at 8:30 am. We would drop her car there and then go up to where Route 4 crosses the Patuxent to launch. Somehow I overslept and had to hit the floor running, taking only time to put on a football jersey and the pants to my wet suit.

I got to the park just as Joan was looking for a place to put her 'use permit' for the park (whew). Joan had already dropped off Mardi and their 2 kayaks at the launch site. The plan was for Joan and Mardi to paddle down to the park and I would turn around and head back to the launch site, taking advantage of the tail end of the rising tide. We got into my truck and headed up to Route 4 where Mardi was already in the water and waiting for us. I unloaded my kayak while looking over a carbon fiber canoe that was being launched.

Even with the rising tide the wind pushed us a long at a fairly good pace. Not much wave height today (darn), but the paddle downstream was easy going and required little effort.

I had just gotten my GPS III+ in from Garmin the day before and I was anxious to see how well it worked. I loaded it with maps of the local area we would be paddling and I was surprised that as I entered the park it showed the names of little creeks I crossed over that were no larger than a small ditch. Cool.

At Bristol Landing, there were a lot of birds swirling around a post near a dock. We decided to get closer and found they had been swarming around two small birdhouses. When we got near the birds went away, but further inland the trees were filled with songbirds. We drifted along for a bit just listening.

When we got down to the area around Mondays and Railroad creeks, it was difficult to tell which way to go. This area was large and shallow with little to indicate where the main channel was. The gulls had set up shop between the 2 creeks, and starlings were buzzing all around. My GPS map does not show the area being this big and in hindsight if I had stuck to the channel shown on the GPS instead of using my instinct, we wouldn't have had to paddle in six-inch water through the mud. We eventually found the right channel to follow out. As we came up to Western Branch I commented that this creek looked much bigger on the GPS. As we passed the mouth and could look back in, I could see it WAS much bigger than I originally thought. At that point I decided I would quit using my instinct and blindly believe the GPS when it conflicted with what I thought.

On down to Jackson's Landing where Joan's car was parked without any trouble. Joan and I exited into the mud, while Mardi simply stood up in her kayak and stepped onto the dock. I wasn't watching her, so I made note to pay attention when we got back. After a quick restroom break we decided to paddle down to Lyon's Creek. This was about 2 1/2 miles farther down river.

Mardi again boarded from the dock, but we missed it and asked her to do it again. She happily complied and watching her made it look all too easy. I'd like to think her wide, flat bottom kayak made it easier, but I suspect Mardi just has much more balance than I do.

Down through Jug Bay the water seemed shallow again. Learning from my past mistakes I paddled further off shore until my GPS showed I was over water instead of land. About half way down we came upon two bright yellow kayaks heading back to the park. We chatted for a few minutes about how to find the creek, and also found this was their first time in a kayak. They had done this plenty of times by canoe, and were really impressed at how easy kayaks were to paddle in the gusty winds we were having today. Directions: Go around the bend and the creek is just passed the pier.

We went around the bend taking the outside edge past Manaponi creek. The GPS showed this to be small, but it looked large in person. I suspect shallow except for the channel showed by the GPS.

We paddled up to a pier but when we didn't see the creek and the GPS showed we had gone too far we backtracked just a little and headed up the creek. This was a nice looking creek but I only paddled up a half mile before we broke for lunch. It was now 1:00 and the tide changed at 2:00. By the GPS I had 4 'miles by air' to get back to my truck. This would end up being almost 7 'land miles'.

I said goodbye to Mardi and Joan for the sprint back. Because of the leisurely pace down with the wind behind us I had plenty of energy to burn. As I rounded the turn by Selby's landing I looked back and could make out Joan's red Breeze about a 1/2-mile back. I guess they had also decided to head back as well.

After getting back to Jackson Landing I stopped to refill my water jug. I stretched a bit because my seat was putting a lot of pressure on a nerve in my butt and causing my leg to hurt. This happened last week also, although it wasn't as bad this week. I looked out to see if I could see Mardi and Joan's kayaks but did not see them.

Back on the water the tide had turned. About 3.5 river miles left to go so I sprinted off again. At least, to me it is sprinting. I keep the pace between 2.9 and 3.4 MPH according to my GPS. This is based on DMG (distance made good) so if you add in the current speed I was paddling against, I wasn't doing too horribly bad.

Up near Mondays and Railroad creek again and I was having a hard time finding where the river continued North. I remembered the GPS and just moved towards the channel marked on the tiny screen made it out with no problem.

Again around Bristol Landing I took a few minutes to listen to the birds. Up near Galloway Creek I saw my first turtle of the season, then my second turtle of the season, then my thir...no that's just a stick.

From Galloway back to the launch site was energy sapping. The current was flowing by rapidly now and I just kept up a continuos stroke. Stopping at all quickly started me sliding backward with the wind and tide. By the time I made it back to the launch I was tired but not so much I had any trouble loading the kayak.

Today's trip for me was 13.82 miles as measured by the GPS. Almost 11 miles for Joan and Mardi if they headed straight back after I left.

New Paddling Partners

Trip #14

Map

To tell this story properly, I need to back up the clock by 24 hours. 17 April was kayak demo day on the Piscataway River put on by Atlantic Canoe and Kayak. The goal was sneaky: Get the wife in a double and get her to like it enough so I could buy one.

Things never go the way you plan and the wife tried one or two kayaks with me. She didn't like it at all. I have to admit I didn't like it either. There were no doubles on hand that had the cockpits far enough apart to allow unsynchronized paddling. This could have gotten ugly quick but I remembered some of the stories I've read on the net on how doubles could ruin a relationship. Now I knew why.

My 8-year-old daughter went with us and tried a few doubles also. I pretty much just sat in the back and let her paddle since trying to do anything meant banging paddles. All the doubles were large open cockpit; not something you want when using a Greenland paddle.

My wife suggested my daughter try a couple of singles, which she jumped at. There were 3 small kayaks; A Necky Gannet, an Old Town Otter, and another Old Town kayak I don't remember. The 2 Old Town kayaks tracked much better, but my daughter didn't think they were as much fun as the Gannet. The Gannet was a bright yellow, which also seemed to be to her liking. As much as I tried to explain to her that she wanted something that tracked straight, she would hear nothing of it. The Gannet did have a skeg that helped straighten the boat a lot.

While my daughter and I walked up the pier to talk with Judy about buying the Gannet, I noticed one wet and embarrassed guy standing on the dock. He was busy explaining to all that would listen how his mis-stroke while sculling had caused him to tip over. This turned out to be the only in water demo while I was there and I was disappointed that I had missed it.

After pulling out the plastic, strapping down the kayak to the roof, and making a side stop at the store for kid's paddle, tow belt, and spray skirt we were on our way home with a new addition to the fleet.

Map Blue line

Fast forward back to today. My daughter had a sleep over at a friend's house so I picked her up at 08:00am. We got to Bull Run marina about 08:30 and managed to get on the water by 09:00 after some instruction on wet exits. I was really surprised at how well she tracked and she did a good job at keeping up. After about 3/4 mile, 1/4 of which was into a heavy wind she started to have problems making forward progress. I clipped in the tow belt and pulled her another 1/2 mile until we were out of the wind. From here on she was fine and we paddled on at a leisurely pace. The geese were nesting and we glided by several nests. It was strange to see these normally talkative birds being quiet. They would lay down their head as we cruised by in hopes we wouldn't see them.

Katie got startled as a stump sticking up in the middle of the creek burst to life into loud honking. One of the geese had built a nest and neither Katie nor I noticed until we had gotten too close. No harm other than a few ruffled feathers.

At the halfway point Katie and I stopped for a little snack. There was a large puddle on shore full of tadpoles and Katie wanted to take some home. She scrounged up an old discarded water bottle and caught a few tadpoles being careful to take water "from their home" and not someplace else that they were not used to. We headed back towards the marina with the wind to our backs.

Katie's hands began to get cold so we pulled over again and got out a pair of pogies. She had worn a pair of my gloves when we started but soon had them wet and decided to paddle without them. The pogies were great because they kept her warm even when wet.

The cell phone coverage in this area was spotty at best, and I tried several times to get a call through to my wife. Finally, though a series of one-syllable words I managed to tell her to meet us at the marina at 12:30. My son and daughter were to trade places and I would go back out again. We got back a few minutes early and while Katie looked after the tadpoles I took out the Gannet for a short spin. "How do you like my kayak dad?" she hollered. "Not bad for a yellow boat" I replied. The Gannet had a lot of primary stability and tracked like a rail. Of course after paddling my kayak, almost anything tracks like a rail in comparison. I was just beginning to hot-dog it a little when the wife blew the horn on the van as they passed over the bridge. Back on shore to tell stories of the morning.

Map Red line

I offered either kayak to my son and he asked which one would go straight the easiest (smart kid). I told him the yellow Gannet and after another round of wet exit instruction he took off up the creek. It takes me a little longer to squeeze in my kayak and get everything situated and he was several hundred feet ahead when I took off after him.

He had no form. He insisted on leaving the skeg up and zig zaged all around. His hands were in the water on each stroke, and he flopped from side to side using only his arms for power. Still, it was almost 3/4 of a mile before I caught him. And I was paddling pretty hard, averaging about 4 MPH. The only reason I caught him was because a boat was coming the other way and he stopped to see what the boat was going to do.

We had fished this creek before, but we went farther upstream than I remember while fishing. The creek twisted and wound its way back between steep hills until we were right beside a firing range. We considered going on further but I was tired and we still had a three-mile paddle back to the marina. I certainly want to try a trip further back into this area while the water is still high. Aside from the firing range this area seemed untouched with purple wildflowers growing along the bank as far upstream as you could see.

The trip back was uneventful with an occasional boat passing us. Every one of them was courteous and reduced their wake to where it almost didn't exist at all when they passed. This greatly disappointed my son who had hopes of jumping his kayak over the waves. The return trip was an all out race back for me, with non-stop paddling just to keep up with the boy, while he leisurely bolted ahead and then would just coast for a while waiting for me to get near again.

At the marina we loaded up and got on the road for home in short order. We were actually #4 in line to get the truck down to the boat ramp so while we waited we just carried the kayaks up to the truck and left. On the way home I asked the boy if he was tired.

"Yeah."

"Wimp."

The blue line trip (Katie) was 4.51 miles by the GPS plot. The red line (Jimmy) was 6.14. About a 10.5-mile paddle for myself including a 1/2 mile tow and a 6.14 mile race.

Wind, Waves, And Sunken Ships

Trip #15

MAP

A cool breeze, toasty waves, and I'm fine.

Except my right arm is pretty sore.

After a few wrong turns I managed to find the launch site on Quantico. For those who may attempt the same, follow the signs towards the war museum and get on Bauer road until you cross Chopawamsic Creek. It isn't marked but you cross it shortly after going over a bridge that crosses the railroad tracks. After crossing the creek take the first right onto Flemming, and then the first right again onto Elrod road. This looks like a quasi parking lot but go up just a short way and you'll see what appears to be a small confidence course. Continue straight onto the gravel road and you'll soon come to the boat ramp.

The launch went without incident but as I headed towards the Railroad Bridge and the Potomac I noticed the water was swirling quite a bit. The creek is wide and shallow, almost like a bay, until you get to where the boat ramp is and it becomes narrow. This means a pretty good current when the tide is running in or out. At the bridge there were some small standing waves.

Free of the creek I checked the GPS for a bearing to Mallows Bay. The wind was blowing a good 20 knots out of the north so I picked a landmark a little north of the bay to use as a navigation reference. This landmark (a tall tree) is just a little north of Sandy point and allowed me to be at a slight angle to the waves.

This is the biggest set of waves I've been in so far. At mid channel while sitting in the trough the wave crests are about chest high. Every so often a wave breaks on itself and crashes across my spray skirt. This sounds a bit frightening, and may have been if I were in a wide bottom boat like the Gannet I bought last weekend, but the Guillemot slides over these waves with almost no tilting. I concentrate on paddling on the backside of the waves and holding off as the wave picked up the kayak. Timing is everything and the waves have no timing at all, so my strokes are erratic.

After making my way across the 2 miles of open water I decide to land and scout up the shore to see what lies ahead. The surf is rough and after stretching my legs for a moment, I jump back in the kayak and head around Sandy Point. From a distance Mallows Bay appears to have a lot of wooden stumps all through it's interior. On closer inspection, these stumps are timbers of WWI merchant ships that were sunk here long ago. My book tells me there were over 200 ships sunk here. I didn't bother to count, but the obvious outlines at low tide went on almost for a 1/2-mile across the bay.

On the north end of the Bay I parked and walked around the timbers up near the beach. The iron spikes sticking out of the water and sand make this area dangerous if you should smash into them with your boat, or worse, trip and fall on land. The hazards are more obvious at low tide, since a lot of this would be just under the water at high tide.

On the south side of the bay I see what looks like a wooden ship's corpse high out of the water. But as I got closer I saw this was an iron ship that also had been sunk. The top deck of the ship had a staircase leading up to thin air. I paddled around to the south side of the ship to get in the lee so I could eat. An Osprey had built a nest on the bow and wasn't too pleased with me being there. Other birds came and went through the round pipes and openings in the side of the ship. I paddled around to the rear of the ship where the stern used to be, and if not for the big wave action could have probably paddled up onto the ship. Back around the lee side and then back across the bay.

As I made slow progress against the wind heading north, I just couldn't take my eyes off the remains of the ships. Row after row of timbers sticking out of the water in egg shaped patterns everywhere. I finally made it to the south side of Sandy Point and took advantage of the lee shore to get out and walk around a bit. I scouted for quite a bit north while stretching my legs.

Heading back across the Potomac towards Chopawamsic Island the wind is still blowing hard and the waves a little bigger. Some of the larger waves are about at my chin in height when I'm down in the wave trough. I'm heading almost dead into the wind and my bow sometimes slams the water as the wave crest passes under the cockpit. Back at Sandy Point I had pulled out my pogies to keep my hands out of the wind. The going is slow but I just dig in for the long haul. I could have an easier trip if I just headed back to the launch site, but I wanted to complete my original float plan. The Guillemot handles the waves well but I'm real thankful for the rudder today. I'm suddenly aware of a boat cutting across my stern at full speed about 15 yards away. The guy waves as he passes by. Asshole #1 of the season.

At Chopawamsic Island I see houses up on the east side. But I head to the southern part of the island and up the leeward west side. The island is well marked as private property and no trespassing signs are all around. After circumnavigating the island I head south and notice the houses are falling down. One is near the cliff edge of the island.

Pogies weigh a ton when wet. Come to think of it, they weigh quite a bit when dry. Take them off and it's like my paddle suddenly becomes 2 pounds lighter. They also restrict wrist movement. Although at times they are necessary, a lesson to take from this is take them off when not needed.

Back at the entrance to Chopawamsic creek the water is running in fast. Again I cross the standing waves at the bridge and get out at the ramp to stretch my legs. After watching a boat launch I get back in the kayak to go explore the wide far shore of the creek. The wind is more than I want to put up with and the hydrillia is starting to block my path so I turn around and head back to the ramp.

12.24 miles in 4 hours with a good portion paddling into the wind. This has been a good workout and one that has made a substantial extension of my experience level.

A Small View

Trip #16

Hi my name is Katie. I am eight years old and being eight is so fun! A week ago my mom finally let us go to a kayak tryout. It was so fun ! I liked one so much my dad bought it for me.

Last Sunday my dad and I went out to the Bull Run Marina. At first my dad used his tow belt to tow me in the wind, but I still kept an eye out for any wildlife! The Sunday before last I was paddling along and I came to a pile of sticks siting in water and as I went by I looked over at the sticks and all a sudden a goose's head popped up, it scared me and started to hiss. It was sitting on its eggs. But this time my dad said "look there's your friend!" He thought it was funny! I guess it's funny. It's just so cool. Now I wonder who said girls and kayaks didn't go together? Well I'm also in to canoes to but I really like my kayak too.

Windy Weekend

Trip #17 and #18

May 1 - 2, 1999

May 1 Map

Saturday

Katie is hard to get up and moving in the morning, so even though we woke up at 6:00 am, we didn't get to the Patuxent river at Route 4 until 8:00. I was a little concerned about the wind. Katie doesn't like paddling in it the least little bit.

This morning I would end up towing her through several windy stretches. In fairness to her 8-year-old body, I will say the Gannet has a pretty high bow that is pushed around quite easily on her. I don't mind towing her as I can use the exercise, but today my shoulder is popping and cracking and aching a little more than usual. Still a little sore from last weekend's crossing to Mallows Bay.

The first bit of wildlife we came across was a beaver, which just thrilled her to no end. After slapping the water with it's tail and disappearing under the surface, Katie kept looking for it over the next mile.

We also passed a yellow "Duck Crossing" sign, faithfully reproduced by Katie right here.

On the way out we passed a small johnboat heading towards the launch site. One of the guys yelled "Hey! I haven't seen you since last year!". This I thought strange since this is my first year of kayaking. I waved back and paddled on.

I missed the point where the back channel splits off to the left, but at the point where it comes back in to the Patuxent, there were 4-5 tents pitched along the bank. A canoe and several johnboats were parked on the bank and several people were kicked back in lounge chairs just taking it easy. We exchanged waves and paddled on up another mile and a half or so.

Katie was getting hungry so we pulled up to a muddy bank and got out. While taking a restroom break I found the remains of a remote controlled airplane wing. I don't know where the rest of the plane could have been, and it wasn't until I sat down to write this that I thought that maybe I should have looked up in the trees.

Back on the water heading south towards the launch, I was thankful the wind at our backs would mean no more towing. My brother having had his shoulder operated on two weeks ago for a bone spur has got me wondering if I may have a similar problem. It usually hurts for the first few miles before I begin to forget about it, or it gets better, not sure which.

Back at the campsite the same fella that said he hadn't seen me since last year has joined up with everyone and told Katie and I that two women were on their way from the launch site. This would be Joan and Mardi. A little further down we see their kayaks and after a quick chat Katie and I continue on our way while Joan and Mardi head up to the campsite.

Just as we were about back to the launch, I spotted a deer and called Katie back to see. She was absolutely thrilled to see the deer although it didn't stay around long. She had been looking for the beaver all the way back and this was the first thing to take her mind off of it.

After loading the boats on the truck, we walked out to the dock and saw Joan and Mardi so we decided to wait. After chatting with them for a few minutes we took off for home, a bit sore, but about 7 miles round trip.

Sunday

May 2 Map

Joan invited me down to Aquia Creek to paddle with some CPA members on Sunday around 9:00am. After getting down there I met the "boat ramp guard" and he dutifully charged me $8 to launch my kayak. I balked a little since Joan had told me it would be $5 and he pleasantly thanked me for my business. The wind was blowing pretty hard, and I thought about just leaving, but I didn't think it was right since I did say I would be here.

I had just taken the kayak out away from shore when Bill Dodge pulled up. I scooted back in and in short order Bill had the launch fee problem straightened out and I got $3 back from the ramp patrol.

Not that he was a bad guy, just the opposite. The ramp guard was a pleasant old fellow and we chatted quite a bit while waiting for everyone to show up. The guy and his wife had no permanent address, and they just traveled all over the US taking on an odd job here and there to help with expenses.

Having 6 kayaks on the beach was quite a sight for me. Other than the kayak demo a few weeks earlier, this was the most kayaks I had ever seen in a single group. Joan loaned me her camera so I could snap a picture.

When everyone was ready to go, Bill huddled us all together for a little trip brief. The plan was to head across the creek to the lee side and if conditions were not too bad we would head towards the Potomac.

After crossing under the Railroad Bridge we started paddling across the first of three bays. The first bay, about 6/10 of a mile across led us to Bennetts Point. The second bay, 8/10 of a mile across, led to Shakley Bay, and finally the last 1-mile stretch took us to Simmons Point.

At Simmons Point we kind of just hung out. I'm not sure if we were wondering who would venture out into the rough surf of the Potomac first, or if we were wondering if it was time to head back. Bill eventually took lead and headed up towards Brent Point. Most of us kids blindly followed playing like kids with a new toy. A few of the saner folks lingered back.

The week before I had seen bigger waves. These were about 12 - 18 inches and were just right to play in. I got to play with the rudder up and down in various attitudes to the wind and waves.

I find the Guillemot runs best into the wind with the rudder up. It is easy to turn and on the crest of a wave I can spin her 180 degrees with two strokes of the paddle. With the rudder down, she takes forever to turn.

Running from the wind I found the rudder to be a must. Without the aid of the rudder the boat wanted to turn hard into a broach condition. I also found it reassuring to just sit parallel to the waves to get used to how the kayak handles in these conditions. The oval cross sectional shape of the Guillemot just made this seem like I was riding on a bubble as it easily slid up the sides of the waves.

A few minutes of paddling parallel to the wind/waves and I was comfortable. I'd like to try another kayak in those conditions some day to see how it compares.

Lunch between Simmons and Brent Point. Joan was the first back in the boats to play again in the waves, and I was shortly behind. Most everyone soon followed until we either got tired, or felt a little guilty about continuing to play.

As we headed back, some took pretty much the same coarse that we took on the way out (me, for one, as you can tell by the GPS track log). Others took a wind-sheltered path near the shore, and 2 more traveled right down the middle of the creek. The two who took the middle creek route were way out front. They were making much better time than I was. The two who took the long way around on the inside of the bays made about the same time as I did straight across and looked a bit less winded for their efforts as well.

Which, by the way, has me thinking again. This whole trip I pretty much trailed the pack. I wasn't paddling hard, but this wasn't a Sunday walk in the park either. When paddling with people in the past, it has always been leisurely. The pace today was how I paddle when alone, but I often stop to see the sights. This trip I generally stayed too far from shore to enjoy much of the scenery, so I was a little disappointed. The return trip was certainly my fault for not taking advantage of tagging along with the folks who hugged the shore. Not a gripe, just an observation that this was certainly a different type of trip than I expected.

While heading back we had a head wind blowing in our face for the most part. Combined with the waves coming in from the side from the powerboats the water was quite confused. I actually found this much more of a challenge than the 1 1/2-foot waves out on the Potomac!

Back on shore I loaded up my kayak and helped load up a few others. I said farewell to everyone and headed off while rubbing my right shoulder a bit.

On Monday morning my shoulder still hurt. When I first started kayaking it would ache for the first 30-45 minutes but it would eventually work itself out. The last couple of weeks the pain not only wouldn't work out, it stayed around during the week as well. So I headed off to the local Military Family Clinic where my shoulder was x-rayed and I was given a prescription for inflammation. After taking next weekend off from paddling I'll give it a go again to see how well it behaves. Because of all the popping and snapping in my shoulder as I paddle, I suspect that this isn't the last time this will be a problem...

Paddling Skills

Trip #19

My 3 day weekend plans to go out of town was suddenly changed, so rather than waste a beautiful Friday I headed for Bull Run Marina. I went downstream this time, towards the Occoquan River. The water was flat and no wind, so I thought this would be a great opportunity to practice without the rudder.

I noticed the Geese had hatched. Made a mental note to tell Katie about them.

The kayak has a narrow range on which it will track straight. If it gets just a tiny bit to the left or right of that range, it will start turning hard. I also found the Guillemot had a much higher speed when "in the zone" which started to bleed off rapidly if she drifted out of the zone and started to turn.

Nothing major to report this trip. I found I quickly got back into being able to use the kayak without the rudder with just a little care in not allowing the kayak to swing too far left or right. This was a lot of work though, so after only about 2 1/2 miles I turned around and headed back.

I did pass another lone kayak heading out as I headed in. Last year I fished this area a lot, and saw only 1 kayak all year. This year I've seen about a dozen already....

Return to Mallows Bay

Trip #20

Map

I made the trip over to Mallows Bay from Quantico again today. I know, I was supposed to take the weekend off because my shoulder hurts. Next weekend, I promise. This time I remembered to take my camera since this is the main reason for going over again so soon. The tide was rising and the outlines were not near as visible as when I traveled over at low tide. It made me a little nervous not knowing where the ships (and the steel spikes) ended just under the surface.

Here you can see a few pictures taken from the north end of the bay taken from the top of a small bluff. Pic #1 Pic #2 Pic #3 The bushes growing up in the water are the edges of the ships. If you look real hard in pictures #1 and #3 you can make out my wood kayak sitting on the beach.

I also explored the 2 feeder creeks that dump into Mallows. The one on the backside (east end N38 28.1267 W077 15.8257) of the bay eventually choked with water lily, so I couldn't go far. There is a run down private marina here and several sunken boats (including a sunken wooden boat mostly on its side and above water).

The creek on the south end (N38 27.9732 W077 15.9345) was choked also, but I pushed through a short way and eventually ran into a beaver dam. Although you can hear the boats out on the Potomac, the 3 bald eagles and the geese didn't seem to mind. It was a really pretty, short side trip. Be careful at the mouth of this creek, there were some old timbers with metal spikes just below the surface. I suspect they came off a wreck and floated in to this area long ago.

This whole bay is popular with the fisherman. They tend to prefer the south and east ends. If you cross you can avoid a "little" of the boat traffic by going to the north end first. From the mouth of Chopawamsic creek (N38 29.8532 W077 18.4682) a heading of 137 degrees magnetic takes you to the north end of the bay. As you get close you can use the orange clay from the cliff as a landmark to navigate towards.

Following the north shoreline you'll find a little finger of land (N38 28.5165 W077 16.1646) that sticks out where the bluff tapers back down to the shore. You can land here and climb the bluff to get a really nice view. Wear (or take with you) some good shoes and watch for metal spikes sticking out of the ground.

To get to the south and east ends of the bay, head back out to open water and give the wrecks a wide berth. The crab pots that were there yesterday seem to be a good trail to follow, but no telling where they will be laid next time. An imaginary line from the western most points of land on the north and south ends may also be a pretty safe bet. You shouldn't have any problem seeing the underwater obstructions at low tide.

When you near the south end, keep an eye on the boats screaming in from the Potomac. A large iron shipwreck on the south end is an interesting spot. An Osprey in the bow may not be too happy if you get close.

Make sure you look behind you a few times while crossing from Quantico so you know where the creek comes out on the shoreline. The small airport is to the north of the creek, and a series of red brick buildings are to its south.

Learning How To (Not) Roll

Trip #21

MAP

The wind is supposed to be out of the South, so I needed a place where if the kayak got away from me, it would quickly blow ashore. Aquia Creek seemed like the perfect place. From my last trip there I remembered the area between Simms and Brent Points to be fairly shallow. This seemed like a good place to learn to roll.

I got to the Hope Springs marina just before 07:30. I was surprised at all the boat trailers already there. There wasn't a ramp guard collecting money, so I filled out an envelope and stuffed $5 in and wrote "kayak" on the outside. As I was unloading the boat, the ramp guard showed up and started writing down everyone's license number. After loading up the kayak I told the ramp guard that my envelope was in the box and marked "kayak" so he would know why there was only $5 instead of the normal $8 launch fee.

Once on the water I crossed the creek at the railroad tracks and remembered I forgot to turn on the GPS. After switching it on and setting up the track mode, I made a beeline for Shackley Point. I wasn't here to sight see, so I was more interested in getting out to Brent Point. The wind was not out of the South, but what little was blowing was out of the northeast. After rounding Shackley I headed straight for Simms Point, and finally made the turn towards Brent.

At Brent I unloaded my kayak with the exception of my paddlefloat, pump, sprayskirt and paddle. I walked the kayak out to chest deep water just as some fisherman came in close. At least they would get a show. I think they enjoyed it too since after they drifted away they would keep coming back.

I thought I would first try just an upside down reentry, and if I felt comfortable at that point, try to roll up. I stood there for a few moments going through the motions in my head, remembering all the articles and videos I had seen. I took a deep breath, ducked under the water and tried to pull myself upside down and into the kayak. The buoyancy of my PFD made this first attempt a loosing battle so I popped my head back to the surface.

I thought next I would try to just grab the rim of the cockpit and sort of try and put the kayak on like a pair of pants. Failure #2. Having had enough of this re-entry and roll, I thought I would just try to roll. I pulled out my paddlefloat and inflated it on the end of my Greenland paddle. I shoved the paddle under my rear deck lines and climbed up on the rear deck facing the rudder. Slid my feet in the cockpit and turned over. This was my first paddlefloat entry since trip #2 back in January. For me, this is a simple task and only took seconds to execute.

My kayak is now full of water and even in the nearly windless and waveless surroundings is eerily unstable. I pump out the cockpit, attach the spray skirt, and place the partially deflated paddle float under the front bungy. Time to roll. Again I pause to think about what I read and saw. Over the side, set up, and it feels like the deck is glued to the surface of the water. I didn't even begin to rotate up. I set up again for a second try with even worse results. Time to bail so I calmly grab the front loop and bob to the surface.

I re-inflate and attach the paddlefloat again. This time I leave the paddlefloat on and the sprayskirt off. I'll try to roll up with the paddlefloat so I can get "the feel" of it. Over again and with my paddle extended the boat actually feels like it wants to right itself. Just before the mid point it gets hard and I have to muscle my way back up. I'm Up! But I really thought my paddle would snap in half with all the pressure I had put on it. Something is still wrong.

I try a few more times, focusing on leaving my head in the water as long as possible. Sometimes the boat started to rotate easily, other times the deck felt glued to the surface of the water. In every case, I really had to muscle the last part hard.

I decided to take a break and eat lunch. While I'm eating I'm thinking about how to better accomplish this the next time. I quickly eat and (much to the fisherman's entertainment) head out again 30-40 feet off shore. I try many more times with the paddlefloat attached. Sometimes I can force my way up, sometimes I don't. I *always* missed a second attempt. All of this today has been on my *off* side. My right shoulder is in a lot of pain if I put much pressure on it, so attempts on that side of the boat are out. Each time I fail I perform a paddlefloat reentry so I at least re-enforce that method of rescue. Also, I never had a successful attempt with the sprayskirt attached.

I eventually realize I'm not making any progress and decide to give up for the day. I paddle ashore and dump the water and reload my stuff. I decide to paddle a little south of the creek to look at some cliffs. The trip across and down is about 1.8 miles. At about the halfway point I see a large boat heading straight for me. He's heading in from the Potomac to the creek. I stop to try and figure out if he will cross in front of or behind me. He eventually turns to pass behind my stern and I have to quickly turn to keep his huge wake from hitting me broadside. After bouncing over the first two waves of his wake the third one crashes over the top all the way up to the coaming.

On the far side the cliffs are cool. There appears to be a clay upper layer with a sort of limestone or sandstone base. I wanted to check out the lower layer up close, but the rocky shoreline kept me from getting close enough to land. There appeared to be small white shells all around the shoreline but I couldn't tell what they were for sure.

My shoulders appear to be getting a little red so I search down the shoreline for a place to land. I finally find a place with no rocks and where I won't interfere with any fishermen and quickly put on a football jersey under my wetsuit vest.

On the water the sounds of drums and the chanting of Native Americans fills the air. As I round "Youbedamn" landing there is a pretty good size gathering with many people in traditional dress. The police arrive as I float by checking out the scene, and after talking to a woman, appear to be interested in a group of men standing around. I paddle away listening to chants and drums.

From there I head straight back to the launch site trying my best not to get run over by boats. I was disappointed my attempts at rolling were complete failures without the aid of a paddlefloat, but the Native American music was cool.

Trip distance - 10.6 miles

Average speed: 4.18 MPH (I found this to be a shock since I really paddled back slowly)

Learning How To (Almost) Roll

Trip #22

MAP

I left the house about 6:45 am. It wasn't till I was on the road that I remembered that Mason Neck State Park doesn't open till 8:00am. So when I got there, I sat for about 20 minutes waiting for the gate to be opened. While I waited four squirrels came up from out of the woods and started playing along the road. A car that pulled up followed this and a man dressed in military fatigues got out and unlocked the gate. He pulled his car through and locked the gate behind him. But within a few minutes a park ranger showed up and let me in the gate.

The water was dead calm. Not a ripple on it yet, and only a few boats. Once on the water I turned right and headed down towards Kane's creek. The park had posted "no swimming from park shores" signs so I was looking for a place outside of park boundaries to take roll lesson #2.

As I headed up to the north end of Belmont Bay, I noticed something slithering through the water. As I approached I saw it was a snake, and as soon as he saw me he disappeared under water. At the north end of the bay, I found a place to beach and unload my kayak. I walked out in the water to get an idea of the bottom composition and it was hard sand until a little over waist deep. From there it got real mucky, with the muck getting thicker as I got further from shore. After scouting the area for submerged objects I walked back in and got in the kayak.

At a decent distance from shore I attempted the first C to C roll. I had ordered and received "Grace Under Pressure" earlier in the week and I felt I knew a lot more about rolling. At least a little better prepared. Needless to say, I failed the first attempt miserably.

After bailing out on the first attempt, I inflated my paddle float and climbed back aboard. I left the paddle float on the paddle to attempt using it for an assisted roll. Start with head near the surface, move head down toward right shoulder, raise right knee. Whoa! That was easy! I know I had put too much pressure on the paddle for it to work without the float, but it was "considerably" less than last week. The paddle didn't even flex, much less feel as though it would snap in half.

So I took the paddle float off and deflated it. I felt I was close. Since I wasn't yet comfortable with my setup, rather than tip over on my left, I tipped over on my right and tried to setup. Head towards the surface, move head down and right knee up...my paddle is sinking fast. Still too much pressure but as soon as the paddle hit bottom, BOOM I'm up on top.

There wasn't much pressure on the paddle when it hit bottom; it was just enough to stop my paddle. I know I'm close now, and for the next hour I do this over and over, not making much rotation until my paddle contacts the bottom. I beach to let all of this sink in and get a bite to eat.

While on the bank, my friend the snake comes up for a visit. He was pretty close to the shore so I grabbed my paddle to spook him away. After I'm sure he's gone I head back to the water to try rolling again.

I'm quickly back to the same routine. I come up strongly and in balance, but only after my paddle hits bottom. Since I'm using a Greenland paddle I extend it further and try to move to deeper water. For an instant I thought I would roll up but it didn't happen until the blade hit bottom again.

I decided to spend some time on the setup. Getting my paddle in to position was difficult, but I did manage it after a few tries. The more I went over, the more comfortable I felt upside down and the more time I could spend with the setup. None of this seemed to help me roll up though. Every time I rolled up only after contacting the bottom with my blade. I paddle back to shore to think this through again.

Guess what? Yep, the snake is back. He's beginning to make me mad (read: nervous as hell). I scare him off with the paddle again. Back in the water I spend another 15 minutes trying to roll up before hitting the bottom with my paddle. For 15 minutes I fail. I finally decide rather than get frustrated I'll paddle around a bit and call it quits for today.

The whole time I was attempting the snap, I never felt like I had good leverage with my knee. My knee rests just inside the coaming of my tiny cockpit and I never felt like I could get good leverage with it.

After paddling to shore one last time to load my stuff back in the kayak, a new snake came up for a visit. The first one was brownish with some sort of pattern on its back. This one was darker and no pattern. I scared him away and headed off for Conrad Island.

By now there is a constant stream of pleasure boats heading out of the Occoquan River and heading south. They're all passing to the inside of the island and the west bank of the bay. At the island I paddle along slowly and surf a few waves from the bigger boats as they come by the island. I watch a barge go by loaded with sand and then head back east toward the park.

In the southeast corner of the bay I beach once more to put a shirt on under my sleeveless wetsuit. The beach here looks like an excellent place to roll. Firm sandy bottom with no obstructions that I can see. Gentle slope to the bottom and no muck. I'll have to try rolling here next time I come out to Mason Neck.

After getting back to the launch site I load and head home. A little bummed I couldn't roll, but feeling one step closer than last week. Now where did I put that video?

The 200th mile

Trip #23 and #24

May 30, 1999

MAP

I was close to nailing a roll. Or at least I kept telling myself this. So I got up Sunday morning to go find it. Much to my surprise Bill Dodge was in the process of unloading his boat. He told me that Dick Rock and Mark Taylor were on their way and asked if I wanted to tag along. I gratefully accepted and before long we were on our way around Mason Neck. Our destination was a little marshy area southwest of hallowing point. Once there we found that we couldn't make much progress into the marsh because it was choked pretty tightly with vegetation.

During our lunch break I took the opportunity to try a few rolls. I rolled up each time, but again only by using the river bottom for assistance. Since I was wearing my wetsuit, I really enjoyed the cooling off. The wind was almost nil, and I stopped several times to drink water and dip my hat in the water and pour over me. About the last mile or so Bill asked how I was doing, since I'm sure he could tell I was pretty warm.

I was dressed for what I came out to do, which was rolling practice, but I was really unprepared for the change in plan, which was the paddle around a good chunk of Mason Neck and back. In hindsight I should have declined Bill's offer, or thought ahead to have lighter clothing to wear. (I did take off my wetsuit top at the beginning of the paddle, but had nothing else to change into on the bottom)

Over this brisk paddle we seemed to average about 3MPH on the return trip. Much slower than I anticipated, so I think I may have calculated it incorrectly. Bill and Dick estimated we traveled 11-12 miles using some formula, which corresponds to the track log I took on the return trip with the GPS. Trip distance - 11.7 miles

May 31, 1999

MAP

My daughter wanted to go look for eagles, and I wanted to teach her how to get back in her kayak in deep water. We got to Mason Neck and headed towards Kane Creek. After spying on a few Ospreys, she became more interested in getting wet. We left the creek and headed south of the launch site.

About 1/4 of the way there, the wind was blowing a little and the 8-year-old was complaining about holding the kayak into the wind. Her lightweight and the high bow of the Gannet makes it easy to blow around so I hooked up the tow belt and towed her.

Once we found a place to practice, we beached my kayak and waded into chest deep water on her. I told her how to inflate the paddlefloat and install it on the paddle and attach the paddle to her rear deck. Getting in was a struggle for her because of the distance from the water to the high profile Gannet, but she did really great. Each time we went into a little deeper water until she was floating freely and had a little more difficult time getting in, but she managed.

After a few more entries I went in and got my kayak. We managed, but found it difficult for assisted rescues with her between the 2 kayaks. We were in calm water, but I felt this was much too dangerous for her to be between the two kayaks. We quickly tried another approach where she would be on the "outside" and I would lean across her boat to steady it while she climbed in. This worked great, but by far the quickest way was for me to lean across her boat and at the same time use one hand to help her up and over into the kayak. Actually because of her small size you could actually say I mostly picked her up and set her into the cockpit.

After we were confident in her getting back in, and she wanted to explore the shells on the beach, we went in and I brought the Gannet out myself. Since I'd been unsuccessful at rolling the Guillemot, I wanted to see if I could do it in the Gannet. The answer was no, but I did learn something I *should* have known. On the 3rd attempt to roll I had to wet exit. I did a paddlefloat reentry and suddenly realized how low in the water the kayak was. The Gannet has no bulkheads or flotation. The kayak was *very* close to sinking, and any lean at all caused more water to pour in over the coaming.

Back on shore I pulled out a floatation set I keep in case I blow out a bulkhead or poke a hole in the hull for the Guillemot, and inflated it in the Gannet. It didn't fit well but I at least felt a little safer for her paddle back to the launch site. Something else I need to buy.

Back at the launch we saw a couple of German speaking folks trying to assemble a couple of foldable kayaks and not having good luck. I would learn a little later this day that a minor milestone was reached: My 200th mile in a kayak.

My first *official* CPA Trip

Trip #25

6 June 1999

Note: I didn't take my GPS with me so the MAP is an approximation.

Saturday, while bending over to pick something up off the floor, suddenly felt a nerve get pinched in my back. I couldn't stand up and the pain was bending me over further. The farther I bent over, the worse it got until I finally did a semi "tuck and roll" onto the floor. I was able to get back up, but my back hurt all day long and I was afraid I would have to cancel my rolling lesson on Sunday.

Sunday morning arrived and my back felt fine. Actually everything felt fine so I headed off for the 1 1/2-hour trip to Port Tobacco. This was to be a Chesapeake Paddlers Association (CPA) beginner's trip and Greg Welker had offered to teach me how to roll if I showed up. As usual, I arrived an hour early. To my surprise Greg did also and we got in about a 1/2-hour of instruction before everyone else started to show up.

Greg is an extraordinarily articulate and patient teacher, and we worked on technique without me ever attempting a complete roll on my own. I felt I was getting pretty close though and I think a little "hip snap" practice along with remembering to keep my head down is all I really need for this to finally be successful.

As everyone started to show up I learned several things. The "paperwork" means filling out a release form. The second thing I learned was the club requires balanced flotation in all kayaks, which meant a double Old Town Loon could not go on our trip.

Once the "paperwork" was done, Greg and Bill herded us together for the safety briefing: Pfd's on all the time. Spray skirts on all the time. Has everyone done a wet exit and paddlefloat reentry?

Note to self: If I'm ever elected safety nazi, have everyone who has the brand new "package" creases in their paddlefloat demonstrate a wet exit and paddlefloat reentry 8^)

Bill Dodge told us this place was hard to find and because of this it was a well-kept secret. The launch was peaceful and quiet. A great secret indeed.

On the water we numbered 12 kayaks and 13 people including a folding double. Greg took point and Bill took up the sweep position as we headed across the river to Goose Creek and Goose Bay Marina. I don't know if it was the early morning dip or if the weather was actually that great but I was really feeling good and we traveled at what is (to me) a slow comfortable pace. Out from shore the church bells began to chime calling parishioners to worship as we headed out across open water. After regrouping in Goose Creek we paddled out near Windmill Point and stopped for lunch. On the way out of the creek Mardi spotted a land turtle that for some reason was in the middle of the bay. Mardi placed the turtle on her deck and gave it a ride near shore. The turtle reminded me of a dog hanging its head out the car window with its neck stretched as far forward as its little shell would allow as Mardi ferried it towards land. A bald eagle appeared so we could all ohhh and ahhh for a few moments before it hid itself in the trees.

During lunch we noticed what appeared to be a *very* large snake (big head, but I didn't see a proportionally long body). It was unusual that it kept diving under water which in hindsight makes me wonder if it was a young beaver. I certainly wasn't going to volunteer to find out. After lunch we continued out in to the Potomac and southwest along its shore for about a 1/2 hour. From there we paddled back towards the middle of Port Tobacco River and then used the wind to help push us back. The wind at your back makes for easier paddling, but also makes the breeze that cooled us on the way out seem to stand still. While out in the Potomac the waves picked up a little and I enjoyed making the bow slap the water and bury its nose under a few waves and roll them up the deck of my kayak. This characteristic doesn't appear to be shared by any of the other kayaks out there, as their decks seem to stay high and dry. Then again, it could be I was encouraging the waves to splash across my bow 8^)

Back at the launch site the Jetskis were either in the water, or making their way into the water. Our quiet little secret had been compromised! There will be a firing squad at dawn for the person who leaked this information. As most everyone loaded up his or her boats Greg treated a few of us to some more rolling instruction. After a failed attempt on my own (my paddle hit bottom and I had to use it to push myself back upright) a little girl swimming nearby started asking in an excited voice "Are you all right?! Are you all right!?!" So much for keeping this low key...

After loading up my yak and making sure everyone else had their boat on their rooftop, I said goodbye and noticed that Greg had set out to explore up river. On the ride home I began to feel my back. Monday morning came much too soon and I didn't think I would make it out of bed. I hobbled around all day feeling stiff and sore, deciding I would take off this coming weekend to help repair my kayak and myself. I have a little fiberglass repair work to do this week so a weekend off will be a welcome change of pace.

Trip distance: About 7 miles. Speed: Who knows, but the scenery and company was great!

Jellies In The Rolling Hole

Trip #26

MAP

10.1 Miles

I procrastinated all week getting a few small fiberglass repairs completed on the Guillemot. This was a couple of places I created during the construction and did not notice them until last weekend. So Thursday I laid down the fiberglass patches and placed a second coat of epoxy on Friday. Saturday morning I feathered in the patches with a palm sander and coated everything with a coat of varnish. The boat was screaming to get wet by the time Saturday evening rolled around.

Joan called and we decided to meet at Pier 7. Joan would show me the "rolling hole" and we would try to get a little practice in. I showed up an hour early and got on the water and paddled out so I could see the cars crossing the Route 2 bridge. I kept looking for Joan's little red boat to cross the bridge, but the first time I saw it was as Joan paddled up to me.

Joan told me she had been there for a half hour and told me I could have launched from a spot about 100 feet from where I did and not paid the $5 launch fee. We then headed to the rolling hole. The rolling hole is a deep area with a sandy bottom close to the bank. It looks like this area was dredged for the boat slips nearby. As Joan was telling me the seaweed had made her legs itch I notice a couple of small jellyfish. No rolling practice for me today. Call me a big sissy, but it would be my luck one of these things would position itself across my mouth just as I was coming up for air. We beached so Joan could move her car, and I noticed another jelly while waiting.

We decided to paddle down river. The South River is FULL of little side creeks, but we ignored them all as we paddled out towards the Chesapeake Bay. Past Warehouse and Almshouse creeks, gliding by London Town Public House, across Glebe Bay and Larkington Cove. Somewhere in all this we stopped and watched the rain move across the water towards us. We decided to beach so Joan could get a hat and as soon as she retrieved it from a hatch it stopped raining. A large boat went by as we were beached and the waves gave me a chance to try entering my kayak in surf. It was all I could do to hang on to the kayak as the waves toss it in the air when I pulled it from the bank. As I tried to get in a wave picked me up and tossed me to the side and I got the bottom half of me covered in salt water. Joan found my unique ability to find imaginative ways to get wet quite funny.

On across Limehouse Cove and Selby Bay to just beyond Turkey Point. As we passed near Turkey point my kayak bounced off a wood pilling just below the surface of the water.

After beaching for a snack, we stood on shore and looked out into the bay. About 8 miles out from where we stood we could see the neck of land sticking out from the other side of the bay - the tip being Kent Point. The sailboats were out in force as well as the bigger pleasure boats. Back in the boats and heading back to the marina, we decided we might be able to get a little relief from the wind by crossing over. We waited till we got to Mayo Point so the river section would be shorter. There was a long line of boats passing and we waited for them to pass before sprinting across.

While crossing over we could see 3 red kayaks, or at least what we thought was kayaks. We couldn't make out the telltale flash of the paddles until we were much closer. The kayaker's all had black paddle blades that could not be seen from far away. The 3 kayaks became 4 as we approached and could make out the last boat as a stitch and glue boat. Lee, who was out teaching a class on kayaking, piloted the wooden boat. Lee and I knew each other from Nick Schade's kayak building web site and it was great to put a face to the messages.

Lee's class was beaching for a break so we paddled on across Harness, Aberdeen, Crab and Church creeks until we got back to the Route 2 bridge. The traffic was a little heavy and we jumped from pylon to pylon to make sure we didn't get ran over. After crossing we paddled up to the launch ramps, packed and left for home.

Beyond My Limits

Trip #27

8.8 miles

The forecast was for 1-2 foot waves and cloudy. Today I set out to cross the Chesapeake Bay at the Bay Bridge near Sandy Point. After arriving at the State Park I drove around a bit looking for a good place to launch. I met a guy from Washington who was there for his 3rd day of BCU level 3 training. He told me someone from New York and another guy from Front Royal were the instructors. After unloading the boat from the truck and piling in I set off to cross the bay.

I had mentioned to the guy I was a little worried the wind seemed to be more than I expected, but paddling in Mezick Pond on the way out to the bay seemed calm enough. After paddling down the narrow channel to the bay and past the rock shoal near the mouth of the channel I moved in close to the upwind side of the bridge. I figured if boat traffic got heavy while I was out there I could stay safe by staying near the bridge supports while waiting for the traffic to pass. I later had second thoughts about this since the waves/wind/current all seemed to conspire to push me towards the pilings.

The Black Line:

Having cleared the rocky shoal the first thing I notice is the waves. Only a foot high but MUCH thicker than anything I've experienced on the Potomac. The waves looked to be 6-8 feet from the front to the backside of the wave. My kayak did not cut through the waves like they did on the Potomac; instead the boat was picked up with each passing wave. There was a lot of energy in these waves and I already felt a little uncomfortable.

The wind was from the North, which meant the waves were hitting me broad side. As I paddled further from shore the waves continued to grow in size. Averaging about 2 feet in height with an occasional 2 1/2 - 3 footer thrown in for good measure. My previous experience on the Potomac had waves spilling over my bow. Today they would occasionally bury my bow under 6 inches of water. At about 7/10 of a mile out into the bay, just as the bridge started to make it's turn toward the other side; I realized how much I was pushing my limits. I looked further into the bay and see barges being pulled by tugs, with huge splashes if white water coming off their front bow. I concluded the waves would only get worse since I was just beginning to get beyond the natural wind/wave block of Sandy Point.

With another 3 1/2 miles before reaching the other shore, I abandoned my quest to cross the Bay. I simply needed more skill to safely cross on a day like today. I turned and paddled back towards Sandy Point and swung in closer to shore. Near Sandy Point the waves picked up again and I played around for 15 - 20 minutes at various angles to the waves to extend my experience.

I finally turned and headed back south along the shore and to the launch site. I didn't really want to give up on my quest to cross the bay, so I took a few things I didn't need back to my truck and got back on the water.

The Red Line:

The BCU class was starting to show up as I paddled along the edges of the pond. After a few short side trips into a couple of creeks I beached near the restrooms for a quick break. The men's restroom was being renovated so I followed a couple of other guys into the women's restroom. After signing a non-disclosure statement about what I saw in there I put the kayak back on and headed into the bay.

The wind appeared to be dying down so I thought I might attempt another try at a crossing. But as I approached the same point where I had given up before, I again thought it wiser not to cross. Instead I would extend my comfort range in the current wave heights. As I paddled north I thought I might try to circle around the Sandy Point lighthouse.

The going was slow and the wind was howling in my ears. I found that by leaning back on the downside of the waves I could prevent my bow from burying so deep into the next wave. The idea of circling the lighthouse came and went several times before I crossed the 1-mile of water between the bridge and lighthouse. By the time I got close I was feeling comfortable with the waves and turned to head out further from shore. I circled around the south end and as I crossed to the north of the lighthouse the water became confused from the waves bouncing off. I made sure to keep my distance as the current, wind, and waves wanted to push me back against the lighthouse.

Having reached my goal I headed towards shore about a 1/2 mile away and then turned south for the trip back to the launch ramp. It had taken me an hour to cover the 1-mile to the lighthouse from the bridge. It seemed like only 10 minutes to get back as the waves, wind and current helped push me along.

After putting the kayak away I watched the BCU class for a few minutes and then scouted the beach to see the view of the path I had taken from a landlubbers perspective. My goal of crossing the bay will have to remain unfilled for the time being, but once again my paddling skills took a step forward. This is the second time I've come to the bay with a goal in mind. The bay has beaten me again.

Learning How To (Finally) Roll

Trip #28

~6 miles

Today I have but a single goal - Practice and hopefully achieve a roll. I launch from Mason Neck State Park and head south about a half mile. After finding a good depth to practice I went over without much thought to the setup. Hip snap and BOOM! I'm up! That was just too easy. Did my paddle hit bottom? I'm not sure, but I don't think so.

I try again, this time paying more attention to the setup. This time I miss terribly and wet exit. After climbing back in, I give it a little more thought. To make sure I don't hit bottom with my paddle I move to deeper water. Over I go and I remember "Look at the sky, Woody". Greg Welker had said this to me several times while showing me the Pawlata roll. I turn my head towards the sky, hip snap and lean towards the back deck. I'm up again, and I'm sure this time I did not hit bottom.

For a good 20 minutes I practice, probably hitting it the first time on 90% of the attempts. I always nail the second attempt if the first failed. The one wet exit performed earlier will be my last for the day. While practicing a lone kayak passes by to destinations unknown. After a while I decided to head down to Kanes Creek and poke around back in there. As I'm paddling north I remember seeing Greg cut a sharp turn that looked really cool while on the beginner's trip. Since I'm on a roll (pun intended) I attempt to lean hard on my paddle and turn around it in place.

Needless to say, I'm quickly upside down. My hands are not in position but I try to roll up anyway. I get about a 1/2 breath before ducking back under water. This time I try to quickly set up for the Pawlata. This gets me up for a full breath of air, but I'm over again. Once more I set up, taking my time. This time I easily roll up. I had never expected my first unintentional roll to follow so closely behind me learning how to do it intentionally.

It wasn't until I was under way again that I noticed the spray skirt's grab loop was not visible. I can only hope had the roll failed that I would have had the wits about me to push the kayak away from me and pop the skirt after finding no grab loop. I was more shaken about having seen this than anything that has happened to me while in a kayak yet. I free the grab loop and head toward Kanes.

The 1-mile trip into Kanes is just the calming effect I need. The Osprey, Heron, and Bald Eagle's are a wonderful thing to watch. I paddle all the way back to the restricted area signs and then paddle back to the launch site, rolling once back out in deep water for good measure.

After beaching and grabbing some lunch I head out to roll some more. I stay in deep water and find this gives me extra room to push my paddle through the water if my hip snap is weak. Looking at the sky and keeping the head back is key. Almost everyone walking the park trail during this rolling session stops to watch the rolling fool in the kayak.

Again I'm ready to paddle off somewhere so I head out to Conrad Island and slowly circumnavigate it. This set of 3 closely grouped small chunks of land is haven to a lot of birds including a pair of Osprey. One of the Ospreys appears hungry as he dives after some type of water bird flying away. The bird survives by dumping in the water at the last moment.

I'm finally tired enough to head back home. After paddling back to the launch (I didn't roll because I wanted my clothes to dry a little) I load up the boat. I'm about to drive off when 2 guys come up in a canoe and ask to look at the boat. I chat with them for a few minutes when the wife of one of the guys comes up and we chat about her kayak. It is a CLC boat what has had the deck stained with a water dye to give it a beautiful red color.

I'm still psyched about learning to roll as I write this. Special thanks to Greg Welker for teaching me the basics. I wished I had stayed a little longer today. I wonder if I will find an offside roll or a roll without the paddle extended before the season is over....

Weather Reports

Trip #29

MAP

10.8 miles

Blast it. How hard could it have been for me to take 2 extra minutes before leaving the house to check the weather? The night before the weather forecast was just cloudy, so when I walked out the door to a pouring rain I should have marched back in to get the latest prediction.

After the half-hour drive to Mason Neck in the rain, I unloaded as someone else already in the water was putting on a raincoat. I remember discussions on how a raincoat can trap a lot of water in a capsize and work against you, so I quickly started kicking myself for not bringing my paddling jacket.

Just as I got ready to get in my kayak two cars with four kayaks on top showed up destined for Kanes Creek. I chatted for a few moments and bid them farewell. The rain was cool, bordering on too cool while standing there preparing to launch, but I quickly forgot about it as I headed straight across Belmont Bay for the Occoquan River.

The rain was more off than on for most of the mile and a half across the bay. The wind was blowing out of the north and small six-inch waves were starting to kick up. Across the bay the rain became more consistent and I drew a lot of curious looks from fishermen who also did not have enough sense to stay home. As I got near the US-1 Bridge I decided I would wait for the current shower to pass by holding tight under the bridge and watching the fishermen.

The shower lasted longer than I expected and I soon became bored with sculling sideways to keep myself in the rain shadow under the bridge. I paddled out towards the I-95 Bridge looking at all the big boats tied up to their moorings. At the I-95 Bridge I again took a break from the rain. Not much sculling was needed to stay under this 8 lane bridge, but there were more fishing boats to contend with. Again I got bored and continued on towards the dam.

I spent a lot of time admiring the big boats. On a sunny day this would be a hazardous area for a kayaker, but today what little traffic there was were returning from their overnight campouts on the water. About half way between I-95 and Route 123 I passed Hoffman's Marina. A fairly large marina I noticed, but just how big I didn't really comprehend until the return trip.

Beyond Route 123 the River narrows considerably. There is a smaller marina in this area and the channel is marked with red/green markers. Pay attention and stay in the channel if you can. Ten feet outside the channel in one area I almost ran aground 100 feet from shore! Five feet from the end of a dock with boat slips was a huge boulder just under the surface of the water. I wonder how many hulls this rock has claimed.

I passed 8K Horn Pumping Station (I'd really like to see the tanker or barge that maneuvers up this far to load/unload) and had to stop just even with the water treatment facility at the base of the dam. Further up towards the dam was blocked by HUGE boulders, testament to what is just below the surface outside the marked channel.

I stay to the right as much as I can on the way out. A large portion of Hoffman's was hidden from view but as I passed a few breaks in the trees I see this place is huge. I spy a large warehouse stacked to the ceiling with boats like items in a cupboard. Something in this area smells like raw sewage. I'm not sure if it was the marina or the huge flock of geese that had taken up residence. I stopped and chatted with a young lady who was manning the gas pumps for the marina. It was obvious she was bored, having few if any customers today.

Under the bridges again only stopping to contemplate if the rain will stop or not (it didn't) and back across Belmont Bay on the flattest water I've ever paddled. Even boat wakes are quickly beaten flat. I beach at the park and load the kayak on my truck...and the rain stops.

This Is The Good Life

Trip #30

MAP

11.5 miles

Several people would say it before we launched; the diversity in boats was incredible. Sixteen people in fourteen boats would launch this day from Galesville Maryland. Boats ranging from stitch and glue, fiberglass, a stripper, rotomold, to skin on frame and inflatable!

As I unloaded my kayak, I passed the inflatable being pumped plump full of air. I thought certainly this double kayak would never keep up with the faster hard material boats. At least the pace will be nice and slow with them along. Or so I thought.

After introductions, paperwork, and the safety brief, we were on the water and heading North around the marina. Nick Meman is our leader (and coordinator) for this leg of the journey, with David Stambaugh as sweep and Brian Blankinship and Joy Hecht acting as rovers.

Within moments we were seeing rays breaking the surface of the water nearby. The one I saw was only about a foot across, but some of the other boaters saw some that were much larger. This is also the point that I noticed the inflatable double was keeping up well, and I found myself working a tad harder to keep up with it. The pilot and co-pilot were obviously some sort of hybrid human - outboard engine. "Not to worry", I thought, "They'll tire early".

Somewhere around Popham creek a lone kayaker minus any gear other than a paddle appeared heading our way. He had seen us from a distance and paddled out to chat and ask a few questions. By the time he left he had exchanged info with Mike and Neysa about joining the club. Hopefully we'll have a new member soon.

When we got near the three islands that were our destination, it was still pretty early so we paddled down to the Smithsonian wildlife area and up Muddy creek. Brian warned about a male swan we saw is known to be pretty aggressive so we cautiously gave him and his family a wide berth. Beyond the swan a few of us relaxed in the shade while others paddled further up the creek. While waiting for the others to come back, Neysa offered me a lifetime supply of the club newsletter in trade for my kayak. It's hard to turn down anyone who just paddled 5+ miles in an inflatable boat, but resist to the end I did.

When the others returned we paddled back past Big Island and landed on Flat Island for lunch. Nick immediately began to toss children off the island and into the shark infested....um... I mean the wiener dog infested water surrounding the island. After I inhaled my lunch I was eager to try and see if my roll had disappeared. So into the boat and out a little way from shore. The Pawlata was no problem, and even stronger and more confident then before. The screw roll however, was still no where to be found. I'm sure I'm still bringing my head up too soon, and Brain mentioned that to me when I got back to shore.

Nick took my kayak out for a spin and quickly learned why I added a rudder. He was kind and said, "It likes the wind", but I could tell the boat was acting, as Joan later said, "like a horse wanting to turn back towards the stables".

During this trip I noticed Brian working on using a bow rudder so I tried to pay attention when I saw him doing it. I'm not certain I really know where it would be useful, but I'll add it to the things I want to occasionally practice and add to the "bag o'tricks".

I also watched him extend his paddle vertically and then tip over, slapping the water with his paddle and coming back upright. This looked more like a trick than something useful, but a roll looks like a trick to someone who doesn't know better. Something more to add to the stack of things to learn. And I haven't even attempted an offside roll yet.

When we were ready to depart we were herded together for an assisted T-Rescue demonstration. Nick showed us several methods while Brian described each one, pointing out the plus and minuses of each. Nick was stung by a Sea Nettle while performing for the crowd. I wanted to try, but didn't want to volunteer after Nick got stung. Joan produced some Adolf's Meat Tenderizer for Nick from her first aid kit and Nick indicated later that it worked great.

On the trip back we somehow got dispersed over about a half-mile. With this much distance between all of us, there was no choice for boats but to cut through the middle of us from time to time. Joan tried at one point to signal the forward group with a storm whistle, but they could not hear her from this far away. Actually I was surprised that the whistle didn't sound all that loud from 100 feet away. Eventually I think the folks out front realized it was getting lonely and stopped for everyone else to catch up.

I should point out I never saw the inflatable kayak again until we beached at the put in. There were rumors that some of the hard shell kayaks were able to surf the bow wave, but this is pure rumor mind you. I find it more likely that they were pulled along in the large vacuum created by the tremendous speed of the inflatable. Never again will I doubt the capabilities of a boat in the hands of a strong paddler. Mike and Neysa had one heck of a workout, and my hat's off to the both of them for their persistence.

After we beached and loaded the kayaks up, many of us crossed the street to replenish fluids and sit on the top deck of the pub and watch the boats. Meeting new people and starting what I hope may be friendships to last years to come. People from all walks of life sharing a common passion, each in an individualistic way. This is the good life.

A Guest At Mallows Bay

Trip #31

8.7 miles

MAP

I had sent Joan directions on how to get to Quantico Marine Base, I had no idea she would use her own directions. To make a long story short we waited for each other at opposite gates, and as luck would have it, the opposite boat ramps. By shear luck we passed each other as I was giving up to go home.

Having solved this dilemma, we unloaded our boats and I rolled a few times to get wet. It was shaping up to be a hot day and the hazy humidity didn't look like much fun. As we headed out towards the mouth of the creek being pushed along by the outrunning tide, I realized my water bottle had come off my deck while rolling. I assumed it probably sank but decided to head back and look for it anyway. I didn't need to go far since the tide was also carrying my water bottle out as fast as it was carrying us.

The Potomac was absolutely flat. The only waves were from the fast speeding bass boats on their way to the next fishing hole. I've noticed that this section of the Potomac has two major areas of boat traffic. Within about a quarter to half mile from each shore, the boats tend to stay in that area. Once in the middle of the Potomac the boats, especially the small ones, don't tend to come out that far except to cross the river.

We reached Mallows about an hour before low tide and after looking around from the small beach we headed across the bay to look at the iron ship. From here we went off into the marshy creek on the south end of the bay as far as we could go. This creek was barely wider than 3 feet in a lot of places, and sometimes just deep enough to float the kayaks.

Having explored the creek we headed back across the bay to the beach and to have lunch. The wind and waves were really picking up. We made good time across the bay and in no time we were eating lunch and talking about the return crossing. This was no problem for me, but Joan didn't have that much experience in following seas this big. We should make pretty good time since the wind was from the south and Quantico was north west of our present location.

I chose to take a slightly southwesterly track for the first 3/4 of a mile. This would let us get more comfortable with the waves and be a little less beamy once we turned north for the base. The waves were not huge, just enough that when about 10 to 15 yards apart we couldn't see each other's kayak when we were both in a wave trough, only the upper portion of the body.

I was glad Joan had Wendy's kayak with the rudder. I think Joan's Breeze would have been hard to hold in line with the following seas. I was having a blast but I wasn't sure about Joan so I asked her a few times how she was doing. She seemed to be enjoying it also and turned down my offer to point into the wind for a little break. I told Joan I'd like to try rolling in this type of water, which I think made her nervous so I didn't even try. But once back in the mouth of the creek at Quantico I rolled several times to cool off.

Back at the boat ramp an elderly guy and his grandson were loading up their fishing boat. I decided to roll a few times more, which caused them to stop and just watch for a while. I told Joan I wanted to attempt an offside roll. I also told her it would most likely fail and I would probably come out of the boat.

I set up and went over. Just about everything you can do wrong, I did. No hip snap, trying to pull the head out first, etc. Worse, I thought I might try to "swim" to the other side of the boat and set up to roll up on my "on" side. At least I thought I would. I wet exited and set up for a paddlefloat reentry. As I was climbing in, Joan said something and I turned to look over my shoulder to ask her what she had said. As I did I suddenly realized I had shifted my weight to the wrong side and could only watch the paddlefloat streak through the air in a semi-circle as I headed again for the water. Of course, this provided much amusement for Joan, and no doubt the other fishermen nearby.

I finally got back in and told Joan I was concerned I couldn't figure out how to swim over to my on side. This meant I could roll up if knocked over to my right, but not if I fell over to my left. I suddenly felt constrained again, as if I didn't know how to roll at all.

I told Joan I had to figure out how to swim to the other side. Up till now I had tipped over on the right, and rolled back up on the same side. So this time I tipped over on the left and used the momentum to carry me through back to the right and I rolled up. That provided me enough feeling of how it *should* go when swimming from side to side that I tried just that. Over I went and I twisted back and forth at the waist to move to both sides of the kayak several times before finally rolling up on my on side.

One final thing for me to try today. I went over to try and roll up on my off side. After failing I shifted under the boat and set up for the on side roll and came up with no problem. At least now I felt confident I could attempt my learning to off side roll without having to do a paddlefloat reentry each time. I also felt confident that if knocked over on my off side I could swim under to my on side and set up for a roll attempt.

This was enough fun for one day so we loaded up the boats and I showed Joan the *right* way to leave the base.

From Beginning Kayaker To Beginning Teacher

Trip #32

8.5 miles

It started out simple enough. I insisted a friend try out a few kayaks before buying one. Little did I know then that I'd be driving to Rockville Maryland on a Friday afternoon to pick up the rental.

I picked up Pat early Saturday morning and after unloading the kayaks and spending some time going over self and assisted rescues, we were off on our adventure. Several things about the Atlantis Dagger that I immediately didn't like:

1) The control cable that unlocks the integrated rudder didn't. There also wasn't an adjustable connection for the cable either. We would later shove a stick in to the handle to unlock the rudder.

2) The rear rubber hatch looked like it would get blown off if hit by a wave of any size. It certainly wasn't watertight. The front hatch cover seemed a bit tighter.

This was just the beginning, and there were a thing or two more that I should have noticed before going out but didn't.

Pat is a big guy. At 6' and 250 pounds he was too big for this boat even though he told the folks at Spring River how big he was before they suggested the Atlantis. More than that, the boat wasn't deep enough and with Pat sitting in it, it was obviously top heavy. But he said he was comfortable so we started out slow and I gave him a few paddling tips after he collided with the Railroad Bridge that ran across the creek.

Everything was sort of uneventful for a while until we got about 3/4 of a mile from the launch site and I looked over to see that unmistakable look of someone about to go over. I was already pointed in his direction when he went over. I should have shown him bracing but didn't think about it since the water was like glass. We performed a "T" rescue and I was a little surprised how much water was still in his boat when he got back in. After pumping out the kayak Pat mentioned that it still felt unstable. It wasn't till we landed that we found out why: The rear bulkhead had such a huge gap in it that water could run freely from the cockpit to the stern.

For the rest of the trip Pat continued to have problems going straight. At the lunch break I jammed a stick into the rudder release handle so Pat would have use of it. I also took the boat out myself to see how well it tracked and it tracked well. Maybe because my kayak tracks so poorly did it seem that way, but it seemed to track straight as an arrow. Just for grins I even rolled it and found it rolled easier than my kayak. I think the extra weight gave more momentum to my hip snap since I felt the paddle provided little leverage.

After lunch Pat started to have a lot of problems with his back. The low backrest provided no support and Pat needed to stop frequently to give his back a rest. He turned down the offer for a tow several times. I eventually wedged the paddlefloat between him and the rear coaming and this helped a lot. We had to leave the spray skirt unattached but I felt this was pretty low risk since the water had remained flat all day.

Unlocking the rudder had helped him go a little straighter, but not much. I think the sliding foot rails were a big pain for him to use.

Back at the launch site while Pat walked off his cramped back I tried several self-rescue techniques. The big one I had read about and wanted to try was "paddling" with the paddle to try and catch up to my kayak. In the conditions at the launch site I found swimming with one hand on the paddle that I could not keep up with my kayak being blown away and carried by the current.

Turning loose of the paddle I could then "swim" fast enough to catch my kayak. Giving up my paddle didn't bother me because I knew the spare was on the rear deck.

Paddling with the paddle was somewhere between swimming with one hand and swimming without the paddle. I seemed to keep pace with my kayak but never quite caught up to it. It required a lot of effort as well. I'll practice this a few more times to give it a fair shot, but giving up the paddle to swim after the kayak may be my best bet, assuming there is a paddle on the rear deck when I get there. In any case, choosing between the paddle and the boat I think I'll choose the boat first since it can get away much faster than the paddle.

I also tried a re-entry and roll. I got close, but need a little more practice I think and need to slow down and not hurry so much.

I was afraid that Pat would have gotten discouraged from this first day of kayaking. Instead I found him more than eager when I talked to him Sunday. But now he was convinced he had to paddle more boats to find the right one...

Woody

What follows is Pat's version of the same trip...

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

I didn't sleep well the night before. I was pretty excited to start a new adventure. I was also a little apprehensive about kayaking my first time. Woody arrived a little early. I was in the bathroom which is not at all uncommon when I'm a little nervous. So began the big adventure a little before 7:00 on Saturday.

The drive from Manassas to Quantico went quickly as I reviewed what Woody had told me about kayaking over the past couple of weeks. Over and over in my mind I watched Woody demonstrate a kayak roll in our office chair. I'm still pretty convinced I can do one.

After about 15 minutes of prep time, which I wisely used to stow my camera and half my lunch in Woody's truck, we struck out for the far side of the Potomac. I knew right away that Kayaking was not the same as canoeing. No matter how I tried to slip to the side of the bridge abutments I was drawn to them like a moth. Not once, but twice, I hit them (there were only two and I hit them both) before Woody was kind enough to show me that a kayak paddle has a front and backside. In no time we were off again. Woody headed due East while I weathercock due south. Woody asked a few times if I knew we were headed to the other side of the river. I knew where we wanted to go but I was having a hard time convincing my kayak of our decision. At one point the kayak and I got into a bit of a struggle. I was convinced if I paddled harder the boat would have no choice but to turn for shore. It turned but not towards shore. I'm nothing, if not buoyant. In no time Woody was at my side doing his best to conceal what appeared to be a belly laugh as genuine concern. Woody's a much better kayaker' than actor.

In no time I was swimming in the cockpit as Woody demonstrated how to use a bilge pump. Soon we were back on our way to the far bank. I say far bank with far being the operative word. By the time we made land I was feeling like I'd scouted the entire river in a criss-cross pattern. I was sure something was wrong with my kayak. Much to my chagrin Woody dumped a few gallons of water that had seeped past the bulkhead (see Woody's rule on two kinds of bulkheads) and played "watch me go straight" for a few minutes. "Yep, it's a true tracker Pat", "Wish my kayak would hold a line this well" and other words of encouragement made me ever so eager to try again.

We spent the next hour exploring the sunken boats and wildlife of Mallows Bay. I really enjoyed this part. It was especially nice to see a bald eagle. We ate our lunch, or at least the part that wasn't still in the truck. By the time we started back my back was aching and I was dreaming of my bed. Woody offered a tow and an occasional word of encouragement. It would have been a little nicer if he would've at least feigned fatigue. Instead he continued to head directly across the river as I seesawed back and forth in my never-ending battle to keep my kayak pointed towards the shore. Occasionally Woody would take a break and practice his Eskimo roll. I'm not sure, but I believe I may have wished him ill once or twice. Nothing big, but it would have done my heart good to see him forced to do a water exit. Instead he always managed to pop back up like some kind of Kayak Weeble.

By the time we were half way across the river, my back was getting sore. After many attempts by "McGuyver" to help me out, he hit upon the idea of blowing up my paddle float to force the seat back to stay in place. It felt so much better. I thought about mentioning that I was now securely wedged in the cockpit and a roll would certainly spell disaster but I was afraid he'd pull it out. When we finally struck land my ill feelings for Woody seemed somehow to ebb away. I was truly exhausted and to my surprise totally hooked on kayaking. I'm now in search of my one that will fit my frame. No doubt this is just one many adventures to follow.

The longest day

Trip #34 and #35

23.4 miles

17 hours on road/water

MAP

On the road by 6:30 am on my way to Galesville after stopping by the bank and to get gas. At Galesville I unloaded my kayak and took out my new Greenland paddle. The new paddle has a blade 5 1/4 inches across! It looks too big, and weighs a lot, but I wanted to try it before making the determination to cut it down. I rolled with it a few times and paddled around the marina. The blade would be too much for any distance, but wow what speed!

I paddled back to shore to retrieve my smaller Greenland and wait for Joan, which wasn't long. We unloaded Joan's boat and headed out. We bypassed Tenthouse and Cox creeks, but Joan suggested we explore Popham creek, which we did. The jellyfish were thick today and I was reluctant to roll. It was hot and I was concerned we might need to cut today's paddle short because of the heat.

Next we explored the next bay over near Forest Point. The jellies were so thick here that every other paddle stroke hit one. Back out into the West River and around Cheston Point. At Sand Point we took a short break to stretch before heading across to explore Cadle Creek. From there we decided to head to Flat Island for lunch. As we were crossing, 2 kayaks launched from Carrs Warf so we head off to meet them. After finding out their kayaks were barely a month old we passed some CPA info to them so they could check it out.

We continued on to the island and ate lunch. Since the jellies had thinned out quite a bit in this area I took a few minutes to try an offside and screw roll, both without any success. I also swam in my new PFD to see if it would ride up on me. Back in our boats we entered Sellman creek. It became strange back in this area, but I couldn't figure out why. The powerboats were nowhere to bee seen and their sounds kept getting further away. Near the back of the creek it began to rain. Gently at first but it began to pour a little harder as we started to make our way back to the launch site. As we got near Flat Island we saw the new kayakers and decided to check up on them to make sure everything was ok before passing on. We beached and the rain became heavier as we chatted a few minutes with the young couple wondering out loud about the rain. They seemed to calm down a bit when I told them the rain would beat the water flat. They headed out and we launch right behind them. The rain started pouring hard enough we worried about visibility and turned on our lights even though the boats had all left earlier when the sounds died away. The rain was short lived and the rest of the trip uneventful.

We passed 6 or 7 small sail boats racing around some imaginary points on the water. A 14.1 mile trip back to the launch site. We still had a little time to kill so we added another 2.5 miles paddling south of Galesville into Smith creek. Joan's mom was waiting as we loaded up our boats and I headed towards home as they headed off to eat.

MAP

In the back of my mind I had thought about a night paddle from Belle Haven to watch the fireworks display at Jones Point. This was a fireworks celebration to commemorate 250 years of existence for the city of Alexandria Virginia. I couldn't resist so after stopping to eat dinner I headed over to Belle Haven marina and launched for the second time today.

It was still pretty early, so I paddled down and around Dyke Marsh for a bit and then headed back to the marina. I was tired and it was still a while before dark so I just hung out chatting with people as they stopped by. A young couple with a brand new fiberglass kayak and a rented SOT chatted a bit before heading off towards Dyke Marsh. Many people wanted to know about my kayak and after a while I was talked out and thought it would be less effort just to get back on the water...

This time I headed down to Jones Point. As I was getting close, the Coast Guard was herding the boats away to a safe distance. I paddled up near shore and took up safe position out of range of the little brats skipping rocks at my kayak from shore. It wasn't long before Judy and Roy from Atlantic Kayak came around the point with 14 or 15 kayaks in scattered formation. After chatting with Judy and Roy for a few minutes they headed back underneath the George Washington Parkway. I continued to hold station as it continued to get darker.

Just before dark the Carp began to wave their tails in the air and Judy's crew came back a few minutes before the fireworks began. What a show! Words cannot describe how awesome this looked bobbing along gently on the water. Just before dark a long escort of Police boats and the fireworks barge came from upriver. The wind was blowing towards the fireworks barge so I continually back paddled to hold my position. When the show started the reflection off the water and the fireworks almost directly above was simply incredible. Add in the little lights on the 50 or so boats and the 20 or so kayaks, and the light show on the water was remarkable. I wish everyone could have been there to see it.

After the show I headed back to the marina. This time I cut straight through the floating grass mounds to avoid all the boats now at anchor in the river. This was no easy task, as I had to extend my paddle stroke to well behind the cockpit so I could pull the paddle straight out of the grass. Once I hit some sort of large animal (fish) with my paddle, which created a huge splash and a startled paddler. The couple I met at the marina were right behind me and the woman had the same thing happen to her I think since a few minutes later I heard a splash, her scream, and then "That scared the SH*T out of me!"

Loading the kayak back on my car proved to be a big challenge. Folks had parked their cars so tightly at the launch site that I had to get someone to help me lift my kayak over one of them so I could carry it down to my truck. What fun tonight has been. Add another 6.8 miles to the day's paddle. By the time I got home it was 17 hours since I had left and had journeyed 23.4 miles on the water. A long day indeed.

Hidden Treasure

Trip #37

11.5 miles

MAP

This would be another trial of a Greenland paddle I've been working on. It started out several weeks ago at nearly 5 1/4 inches wide. This monster was much too heavy and I switched to another paddle before going 100 yards with it.

Today the paddle had been trimmed down to 4 1/4 inches. Not nearly as heavy but after a nearly a mile from the Mason Neck launch I switched to my skinny, ol'reliable Greenland I brought along just in case. The paddle still felt heavy but it mainly was too hard to pull through the water. This required a lot of torso rotation and pure muscle and I was tiring quickly.

After switching to my cedar Greenland, at about 3 1/4 inches wide, it seemed like I was paddling with a feather. My wide paddle will need to go on a diet again,

I paddled out to the south end of Conrad Island. The channel is narrow through there. There are 2 schools of thought here, and I can't make up my mind which is better. With the narrow channel, it doesn't take long to cross. Look for a large gap and shoot across in about 5 minutes or so. On the other hand, because it is the only channel, and all the surrounding water is shallow, the big boats all have to pass through here, so it can be busy. Should I cross here or out in the wider open water where there is more maneuverability for the big boats?

I decided to cross here for now, and managed to cross without any boat traffic in sight. Only bass boaters rise early in the morning. Just below Taylor's Point I turned south to follow the shoreline which appeared heavily wooded. I didn't notice it till much later, but there is a fence near the shore covered with honeysuckle which will hide it for the rest of the summer.

I turned westward after passing Deephole Point and paddled up Marumsco creek. I had set out specifically today to look for this creek because I had seen it on the map, but never explored it. Except for a few houses on the left side, this is an excellent place to go birding. I recommend not going at low tide, as the channel is sometimes hard to find. Generally if you stick to the outside of bends in the creek and the middle on straight areas, you'll stay in the channel.

About a mile into the creek I came to several downed trees blocking my progress. After backtracking a short distance I crossed to the other side of the marsh looking for another path, and finding nothing, started my trip back out to the Potomac. For those who like Kane's Creek, the trip across Belmont Bay for this little creek will be time well spent.

Featherstone Shores looks a little like a big metropolis from a distance, but as you get closer you see it is only a dozen or two big houses. Big yards and big windows. Just south of Feathersone though, the shoreline becomes wooded again as the National Wildlife Refuge takes hold of the river. I was on the lookout for the second creek in this area - Farm Creek.

I thought I had found the mouth of it but the little creek I ventured in was shallow and I had to turn around and come back out. This little creek - I would classify it more like a ditch - was heavily polluted with tires, bottles and other sorts of rubbish.

I paddled down a little further and saw what I though might be another ditch, but as I zig zaged around the fallen trees it opened up to be fairly wide. This area was shallow with the tide running low and I found myself poling more than paddling. The swamp gas I stirred up with each poke of the paddle brought back memories of growing up in Florida. For about 3/4 of a mile the water was just barely enough to float my kayak until I got to the remains of a wooden walkway. The other side of the walkway the water immediately got deeper and for the remaining 1/4 mile I had no problems. Near the mouth of Farm Creek a park ranger had pulled up a spot to sun himself and eat lunch.

From the southern mouth of Farm Creek to Leesylvania State Park is about 1 1/2 miles, but I decided to head back towards Mason Neck. Instead of following the shore back up to the narrow channel to cross over, I head out across the Occoquan. As I got by the little concrete island near the middle I saw some folks fishing so I backed up a little and went around the other side as not to disturb them. The boats were much thicker than when I came out in the morning and I constantly had to look all around for them. I'd swear that on seeing me, most boats would alter course to aim directly for me before veering off. I think they could first see me, but not know what I was so they headed over to check it out. Most resumed course once within a good visual range. Others insisted on blasting through a hundred feet or so off my bow or stern which made me pretty nervous at times. Of course, they'd wave as they went by.

I beached a little south of a small rock jetty to stretch my legs and eat lunch. After a short rest I decided I would try out the wide Greenland for the rest of the trip back. After a hundred feet or so I really made sure I rotated at my waist. This paddle almost forced me to paddle that way, which is good I guess, but I'm going to trim it down some more anyway.

Just as I got near the Mason Neck launch site, the first clap of thunder came echoing across the water. By the time I had the kayak on the car and on the road it started to rain and lightning all around.

Chincoteague Island

Trip #38, #39, and #40

27-29 July, 1999

Day #1 - The Journey Begins

It started as most our vacations do. We had planned up to the point of actually getting there, but not much further. On the way there I stopped at a gas station for gas, and as I pumped it, ESPN played a baseball game at the pump. That was different. I wondered if you could change channels.

We arrived on Virginia's eastern shore at Chincoteague Island around 3:30 in the afternoon and were checked in and unpacked by 5:00 p.m. My daughter and I went out scouting for a place to launch our kayaks on the following day. We found that in order to use the public boat ramps we needed a $5 permit (for a week) but the government offices had closed for the day. A guy running a boat rental place offered us his boat ramps at no charge if we were unable to find anything else.

Side note #1: About thirty minutes from home I was kicking myself for not getting hold of Larry Bliven before I left. Larry had graciously offered to paddle with me and I was supposed to get back with him as vacation time grew near. As usual my short-term memory kicked in until it was too late to email Larry and make any plans.

Side note #2: While tooling around the beltway the cockpit cover on the Gannet blew off. I saw it blow away in the rearview mirror and I had to cross 2 lanes of traffic to pull over to the side of the road. It was a quarter mile jog back to where the cover was continually being run over and carried along by cars. There simply was no break in the traffic and as the cover blew by me two lanes away I thought I saw a nasty hole in it. I decided it wasn't worth the risk of getting it back and started walking back to the car. As the cover got near the van I saw the wife hop out like she was trying to get it. I had to start running again yelling for her to leave it alone that it wasn't worth getting run over. As luck would have it as the cover came by her there was a huge break in traffic and she just walked out and picked it up, then walked back. As I came running up all out of breath she asked me what all the yelling was about. I took the cover from her and saw that there was no damage at all and tossed it inside the van as I pulled my winded self back into the driver's seat. Kayaking is a dangerous sport.

By 7:00 we were driving around looking for the beach for the next day's outing. The plan (we were making it up as we drove around) was that the wife would drop me and our daughter off in the morning while she headed for the beach. When we got to the beach we spotted a nice protected bay on the backside of Assateague Island where we could put in the kayaks if it didn't get too shallow at low tide. One hundred yards away on the other side of the island was the beach. We could kill two birds with one stone since when we were done kayaking, my daughter could go play on the beach.

Day #2 - Me and the Munchkin go Paddling

MAP

The next morning, after a bunch of non-early rising grumbling, my daughter and I were on the water while my wife headed off for breakfast and I think a stout cup of coffee. It was high tide and this put in was called Little Tom's Cove.

We didn't really know where we wanted to go. I thought at first we might paddle out towards the "hook" of Assateague island, but there was a fishing boat between us and the tip of the island, so we just paddled straight out along the northern shore of Tom's Cove. About a half-mile from the launch site we could hear the ponies. They were penned up awaiting their swim and auction on Wednesday. We paddled on passing an Osprey nest on up to a building on stilts up over the water. Katie took great pride in paddling through "the holes" under the house.

We watched the pelicans for a bit and then started our trip back towards shore. Katie had tired quickly as we had faced a slight but constant wind the entire way out. I offered a tow several times but she wanted to prove she could do it all her self since we were in a *special* place. I allowed her to grab my stern and hold on while I paddled. Somehow this wasn't deemed as "towing". She quickly got her wind back and the paddle the rest of the way in was easy with the wind at our backs.

About a half mile from the launch I looked back just in time to see what I "think" was a large ray surface just in front of Katie. I yelled for Katie to look and she became so frightened she closed her eyes and refused to look around. I managed to quickly get her calmed and we paddled back the rest of the way without incident. The tide had gone out but we still had plenty of water to float us back to shore.

On shore some college students were taking some core samples as we loaded the kayaks up and walked across to the beach. The beach had a steep shore. There was an obvious sandbar a 100 yards or so out that the waves would break on at low tide. But at high tide there was no breakers until the last 10 feet of water where the wave would suddenly rise up and crash hard. The remains of the wave would then climb up the 3-4 foot high bank at about a 45-degree angle. Certainly too rough to launch a kayak from.

The only other thing worth mentioning about this day is that while on the beach we saw 2 pods of dark gray or black colored dolphins running along the sand bar about a hundred yards from shore.

Day #3 - Paddle with the Ponies

MAP

Again it was an early morning for me and the wife as she dropped me off at Little Oyster Bay down the road from the house we were renting. Today's plan was for her and my daughter to catch the bus to watch the ponies swim across from Assateague Island to Chincoteague, while I paddled around the island to meet them there.

The entire way was against a fairly swift current, but as long as it was flowing I knew the ponies were not crossing. The exact time the ponies cross is determined by the Coast Guard to be at "slack tide" which they somehow determine at the swim site. My GPS kept me in the channel as I paddled around Piney Island. The island is a mixture of older homes and piles of salvage from years gone by. But the salvage soon gave way to nicer homes or sometimes unpopulated marshes.

After getting near the swim site and paddling among the boats moored there, I headed near shore to scan for the family. Trying to look for someone you know in a crowd of 40,000 people is no easy task, so I was quite glad when I saw the wife waving a hat and yelling to me. I took up position near shore where they were seated since there was no place to land and just kept station for the next few hours. I did learn I could open and re-close my rear hatch without getting out of the boat. A task that I didn't think possible until the wife asked me for the binoculars...

Before the ponies came across I paddled up and down the shoreline a few times. A few people asked me where was the best place to view the ponies, which I had to just shrug and tell them it was my first time too.

The ponies finally came, and after their four-minute swim I bid the wife and daughter goodbye as I started my paddle against a current now flowing the other way. After arriving back at the dock I stashed my kayak and gear out of the way and walked the half-mile to the house for the car. Later that evening we would return to the beach and see more dolphins.

Day #4 - The Last Paddle

MAP

The plan for the day - Get up early and have wife drive me to the tip of Chincoteague island for me to paddle out around the tip of Assateague and into the Atlantic Ocean. This would eliminate the danger of launching through the surf. What really happened is I got up early and sat on the couch and went back to sleep. By the time I woke up it was about 10:00 and with the threat of afternoon thunderstorms I decided that I didn't want to risk getting caught on a 10+ mile paddle in an electrical storm.

As luck would have it, the entire day was overcast, a perfect day to paddle and I was moping around having blown my only chance to take my sea kayak out to sea. The afternoon came and went with not a single clap of thunder. About 5:00 p.m. we headed for the beach one last time for my daughter to play in the sand. As I sat there looking out into the ocean I was trying to figure out how to get me and the kayak out there. In the surf there were too many people and a kayak would create a hazard for more people than just myself. But by 6:30 the crowd had dwindled down a lot and there was a large open section outside the yellow flags. I asked the wife to help me carry the kayak to the beach. She carried the gear and I toted the boat down to the shore.

As I carried the boat a lady noticed the Orcas on my front hatch cover and went crazy. I told her my wife designed them and she had to get a picture of them. She made me sit the boat down and turn it on edge so she could get a picture of the whales and my wife. Of course this made my wife happy that she finally got to hear for herself what many others had told me many times about her handiwork.

With gear now loaded I faced the problem of how I would get out into the water. I inflated the paddle float and placed it on the end of my paddle, and then the paddle I placed in my cockpit. There simply was no way to launch from the beach so I took the bow grab loop and walked out past the surf zone and began to swim with one hand. The kayak immediately broached and stayed that way the entire time I swam out with the kayak. I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get in so I swam out a good ways before trying. My first attempt I put too much weight on the paddle and pushed it around to where I face plowed back into the water. After righting the kayak I tried again and this time everything went perfect.

With the non-float end of my paddle I took several strokes to make sure I didn't end up back in the surf, but with the offshore winds I think I was actually being pushed further away from the surf. I flipped on my bilge pump and not hearing the motor kick in I turned it off and pulled out my manual pump. I would later determine the electric pump was working fine, I just couldn't hear it over the surf. Having finally pumped out the cockpit and attached my spray skirt I was finally off and running north with the wind and waves.

About three tenths of a mile later I realized I was violating one of my cardinal rules: Paddle the difficult track first. So I turned and headed south against the wind and waves. The going wasn't hard and I thought I might try to get down to the end of the island and back before dark. But about a mile from the launch site I heard a noise and looked over to see a pair of gray bottlenose dolphins just 50 feet away! I turned to paddle with them, which wasn't hard since they ran in and out towards shore. I eventually lost sight of them after about a half mile and turned south towards the end of the island.

Again about eight tenths of a mile from the launch site I came upon another group of dolphins, this one being five or six in number. This group I paddled with for almost a mile. They were feeding further and further from shore and eventually I decided to head in before the sun went down. I was absolutely psyched from having been so close.

Near shore I again thought about the surf. As I got fairly close I simply rolled over and wet exited and "swam" the kayak in to shore, again in a broach condition all the way. As I got close my daughter wanted to come into the water but I made her stay out until the kayak was on shore and away from the breakers. I timed my run through the surf zone and made it ashore with no problems.

I loaded the kayak and watched the sun go down on the west side of Assateague Island. I couldn't help but reflect on how each one of my previous trips had added up to put me in a kayak among a pod of dolphins. The safety net of a roll, battling the wind and waves of the Chesapeake and Potomac, paddle float re-entry, sweep strokes, experience in a flooded cockpit, 300+ miles of rain/wind/sun...all of this and more led up to me feeling quite up to this task of paddling in the Atlantic. I think it will be some time before I can top this trip, but I'm already beginning to think about it.

Stump Neck

Trip #45

17.2 Miles

MAP

I should warn up front that you shouldn't try this trip unless you wish to spend a lot of time stuck in the kayak. The bulk of the trip is next to a US government installation and no landing is allowed. In fact, there are signs posted all along the shore that says vessels are not allowed within 1500 feet!

That's almost 3/10ths of a mile. This didn't look to be well enforced since the crab pots started about 50 feet from shore.

I started out from Leesylvania State Park. It's been a while since I launched from there and it was pleasant to be here once again. Fairly peaceful this morning with the exception of the occasional bass boat leaving the boat ramps.

I headed southeast towards Stump Neck. My map seemed to indicate it *might* be possible to circumnavigate this chunk of land, but as I got close to the northern tip I could tell there was no way. So I turned south for the tip and Posey Warf. There wasn't a whole lot to see on the western shore of this piece of land, but as I neared the tip a bald eagle flew over my head and out towards the other side of the Potomac. Something about my kayak makes the eagles a bit nervous. Bass boat after bass boat can scream by without spooking them, but let my kayak silently glide near and they are off like a shot. This actually allows me to see more birds than I would if they kept still and didn't draw my attention.

Last Wednesday Greg W, Lee and I paddled down from Pier 7. While paddling with those guys and soaking in their knowledge about stitch and glue boats I couldn't help notice how silently they paddled while I splashed like a kid in a wading pool. "How horrible my paddling style must be", I thought. Greg later allowed me to try his Greenland and suddenly the noise was gone! (This didn't mean my paddling style still isn't horrible)

It was thin on the edge, and flat on one side, so before this trip to Stump Neck I modified my Cedar stick to be flat on one side, with a more knifelike edge. Besides the paddle being lighter (I managed a 17 mile trip this outing, 14 without getting out of the boat) it also became quiet. I noticed the behavior of the paddle was quite different depending if I had the flat face towards me, or the rounded face towards me:

The flat face stuck in the water. There was a strain in my shoulder when that face was the power face. I could accelerate quicker but found it harder to maintain. The paddle stayed where I placed it in the water.

With the curved side as the power face, the blade didn't seem to catch much water at all. It felt effortless and my cadence picked up quite a bit. I accelerated much slower but found I could sustain higher speeds for much longer periods of time. By my GPS, I normally paddle about 3.3 - 3.5 MPH. Today, albeit no wind, I managed 3.9 - 4.0 the entire time I was on the water using the curved power face. I was surprised I was even managing this on the last leg of this trip, and taking many less "rest stops" for a trip this long.

Oh yeah, we were talking about going around the neck, right? I was pleasantly surprised at what I found when rounding the tip. The morning wind was gentle on the Potomac and when I reached this protected back side, the water was absolutely mirror like. Not the slightest trace of a ripple anywhere across its surface. It almost seemed like it should be a crime me slinking across this perfectly flat surface. Then it happened. A bass boat came by and destroyed this piece of perfection. I think the bass boats had seen me come here and wanted to beat me to where I was going since three more boats soon followed.

Before I got to Linton Point and Point Landing, first one eagle and then a pair flew out from the wildlife preserve on the eastern side. As I paddled into Chiamuxen Creek one more eagle would take flight. Little white birds with long pointy beaks were diving in the water looking for a small meal.

The creek got narrow and filled with grass but I followed it as far as I could despite the outgoing current pushing hard in the narrow channel. When the water became solid I turned just as another eagle took flight.

The trip back was uneventful as I asked all the fishermen what type of luck they were having. All admitted to catching a few except one young guy who obviously knew how to drive his boat better than cast a rod. He admitted to being skunked.

As I crossed the Potomac again, the sun tried a few times to poke out from the clouds, but never could stay out for long. This was certainly fine with me as the slight cool breeze and shade made it a pleasure to paddle. The water was blooming full of some sort of algae, so I decided to try rolling with my newly modified paddle some other time. Wednesday night I had managed several successful rolls with Greg's help without extending my paddle so I was disappointed not to get a chance to try again.

Back at Leesylvania park I beached and retrieved my lunch for a well needed break. After eating though I felt I had enough energy to go a bit further. Back in the kayak I headed up around Freestone point and into Neabsco Creek. I've paddled by this creek several times, but never had a chance to explore it. The railroad bridge presented a big congestion area. Only wide enough for one boat to pass at a time through it, and with a barge blocking my visibility, I had to ask a guy bringing his boat through if he would look and see if anyone was behind him. He told me it was all clear and I sprinted through the narrow gap.

On the back side of the bridge was a fair sized marina. I took to the right side away from the boats but soon found myself paddling in mud. The channel extended only along the left side near the boats. Finding the back part of the creek choked with hydrilla I opted for the deep water and to head back to the park.

For some reason I'm always shocked in the difference between when I launch and when I land. This morning there was hardly anyone in the park except the bass boaters. This afternoon it's filled with people and pleasure boaters and the PWC are screaming up and down the shore line. Several people tried to strike up a conversation as I carried my kayak the 100 yards to the parking lot. I was tired so I kept the conversations short.

All in all it was a good trip. A place to land on the other side of the Potomac would have been nice, but I guess you can't have everything in one trip...

Washington DC

Trip #46

7 Miles

MAP

Some trips aren't about distance. The sights are not important. Who cares what the weather is like. But the company is something to remember. This is one such trip.

My daughter made it clear she wanted to spend some time with her ol'man kayaking. I had been careful up to this point to always choose extremely protected water, but she was getting better and getting tired of the same old places. So today I took her to Gravely Point.

I figured we could watch the airplanes if she got bored. The first one caught her by surprise as we unloaded the kayaks from the truck. I think the loud noise may have scared her a bit but she soon turned her attention back to getting on the water. After helping her with her sprayskirt and giving her a push off, we were on our way.

As we got near the railroad bridge a train began to cross so we stopped to count the semi trailers on the back of the train. 124 trailers, which took a while to get across but Katie didn't want to continue until we finished counting.

We could soon see Roosevelt Island, which was our lunch stop destination. It would be a bit of a longer haul for her than usual, but I had my tow belt so I wasn't too concerned about the distance. She did really well and kept herself occupied by naming as many of the monuments as she could see, which wasn't a lot. We crossed the river so she could see the Lincoln Memorial a bit better.

The wind was blowing slightly against the D.C. shore and a lot of trash was floating on that side. Most of the trash was plastic bottles. This was a sharp contrast to the 15th of August, the day after a heavy rain where I found the water to be like a liquid trash heap. I suppose that the rain had washed the trash from the streets and into streams which eventually fed into the river. I had paddled through a lot of disgusting things when I saw a jelly fish! I couldn't believe my eyes so I went back and found out the fresh water jelly fish was a floating condom. Well, I guess there are advantages to rolling with the salt water jellies after all. Or at least, less disadvantages.

As we approached the Memorial Bridge the wind picked up and I had to hook up for a tow. I towed her near to Roosevelt Island out of the wind where Katie took over again. Just as we arrived at our landing site a couple and a lady with their dog and puppy appeared to play fetch with a tennis ball. We took our lunch a bit inland so as not to distract the dogs, and when we returned Katie played a little with the puppy. We returned to our boats and circled around to the west side of the island. With the wind at our backs I thought I wouldn't need to tow Katie any more, but she did ask for one between Memorial Bridge and 395. At the time I figured I had towed her a total of about 4 miles. When I got home and loaded the GPS track into the map I found I had only towed her 2 miles!

I was tired when we got back, but Katie, who yawed the first few hours on the water, was now well rested and wide awake. She played by the water as I loaded the kayaks stopping only to help me get one of the cockpit covers in place. A lady in a Loon paddled up and beached just as we were finishing up and as we drove off Katie remarked that we should have asked her how her paddle went.

This was no record breaking distance, or attempt to maintain speed. The trip did place me a few tenths of a mile from having 400 miles for the year, but even this was insignificant as spending time with Katie. Youth is so fleeting and I've watched her grow so much this summer. Before long it will be too cold for her to go and I wonder if her interest will be there next spring. For now though, I'll take what I can get.

Trying new Kayaks

Trip #47

5 Miles

Well, it was probably more than 5 miles over all. I didn't have the GPS with me and I was more interested in how the boat handled than how far I went.

I had picked up a rental Seaward Ascente the day before and I hoped it would be a boat that would be to my liking. As I put in at Leesylvania State Park I found it to have good primary stability and excellent secondary stability. I could put this thing almost 90 degrees on edge while sculling (drastic improvement over my current kayak).

As I headed around to Powells Creek and calm water I noticed the back end wallowed around a bit in the following waves. Inside of Powells Creek the boat behaved perfectly. A little stiff in turning, but it could be leaned and turned with little problems. It stayed on track where you pointed it.

As I brought it out of the creek, and started to head across the Potomac, the boat handling changed quite a bit. She liked heading into the wind. I could do a decent job holding her in any direction off of directly into the wind, but any further than that and it became much more difficult. So difficult that I could *not* paddle the boat perpendicular to the wind without using a rudder stroke about every 3-5 paddle strokes. (Wind was 10-15 Mph). Broad sweeps were needed just to slow down the rate of turn into the wind.

I gave up on the idea of heading across the river and instead decided I needed to explore this handling characteristic a little more. I *really* wanted to like this boat. It was light (kevlar), and carried well on my portage to the water. It had a rudder (which I did test a little later) with Seawards famous rudder pedals (I have the same pedals in my Guillemot), which I also really like. Lot's of deck lines, a mesh bag under the deck (seemed to get in my way), clip on compass, and a bow painter all as standard equipment.

I used the rudder to see if I could then hold the boat on a course perpendicular to the wind (I could). After paddling around for about an hour and a half to make sure I couldn't make myself get used to how it handled in the wind without the rudder, I gave up.

As much as I wanted to like this kayak I loaded it back on the truck for the trip back to Ski Chalet. On the way there, I stopped off at Atlantic Kayak to order my dry suit. After tugging and pulling and choking I managed to get on a size large which fit well. I placed my order and added in a relief zipper and booties.

After that I started chatting with Judy about the Seaward. She took me out to her kayak warehouse as I described what I was looking for in handling. I tried several on for size that she thought might be like what I wanted. I really liked a British kayak (P&G?) but it was heavy. Since I often paddle alone I want something easy to portage.

She showed me several others but I liked the skeg on the British boat so she showed me a Current Designs Gulfstream. This kayak had plain deck rigging and for being 16' 10" it carried a bit heavy. We loaded it up on a set of wheels and Ralph (One of Judy's employees) walked down to the river to put it in. On the water it handled great in the choppy water. It turned well, had surprisingly little wallow in following seas, and held course with little effort regardless of how I had it pointed. With the skeg down for less corrective strokes, she still responded to sweep strokes to turn well. The boat had good primary and secondary stability.

I rolled it twice: The first a pawlatta and the second the same roll without the paddle extended. She rolled up easily but the spray skirt I was wearing dumped in a good amount of water.

So the big question: Did I buy it? Well, no actually. As much as I liked it, I decided I wanted to rent it for a weekend and try it on an extended day trip before buying. With this weekend looking like it will be dominated by the tropical storm, I reluctantly left Atlantic Kayak empty handed, but with the promise to return when the weather was better. If I do decide to buy one, I'll get the kevlar version though and shave off a few pounds. CD's web site lists the fiberglass version as 52 lbs, which I think is being generously light. It carried more like 60. I'd like a few more bells and whistles also, but I guess I could add them myself.

Anyone have any good/bad things to say about the CD Gulfstream that I should know about? Other boats that you would recommend in that type of kayak?

Happy Birthday

Trip #48

14 miles

MAP

My 48th trip in a kayak took place on my 38th birthday. Not in my Guillemot that I had grown used to, but in a Current Designs Gulfstream. I had really liked the Gulfstream last weekend when I demo'd her at Atlantic Kayak, but I wanted to spend a full day on an extended day trip to see how I really felt about her before doing something as rash as buying a third boat.

A pushed away from Leesylvania State park a few minutes after 8:00 am. The water was perfectly flat with no wind that I could feel. The Gulfstream is equipped with a skeg, but it stayed retracted the entire trip across the Potomac as it simply wasn't needed. As a matter of fact, I didn't take a single corrective stroke across the river either. Why? When I veered off course just putting a little weight on the side that I wanted to turn away from was all it took to bring me back on course. I took Matt Broze's suggestion on rocking the boat first to make minor course corrections. They worked like a charm.

Being rudder dependent in my Guillemot, I was worried I might be a bit right handed as far as power goes. I suspected I would veer left a little or a lot, but that turned out not to be so. By this point I was gawking over how great my paddling skills were, or how great the boat handled and was making it look like I had great paddling skills. I did try to spend time paddling the Guillemot without the rudder when I took her out, but after about an hour I would be mentally drained and need to put the rudder down. The Gulfstream did not demand any mental thinking at all. I think I could have closed my eyes and ended up near my destination across the river.

As I got close to Sweden Point I found myself in "the groove". I can't explain it well, nor duplicate it readily as it has only happened to me once before. My body rotation was perfect. I simply wasn't pulling at all with my arms and my back muscles were doing all the work, although it didn't seem like work at all. I paddled this way for about 10 minutes when I stopped to look back to spot the boat I heard coming up from behind. And it was gone. The rhythm that is. The feeling of not really doing any work. I tried for the rest of the trip to get everything working perfectly again but I just could not get it going. I think this will come in time.

I stopped at the marina at General Smallwood state park to eat a quick snack. I chatted with an elderly couple who told me their son and grandson were taking kayaking lessons somewhere on the upper Potomac. They headed off to explore a trail and I headed off to explore further up Mattawoman creek.

Up near Marsh Island on Indian Head, a siren was going off and I could see a red light flashing from across the water. A puff of smoke went up followed by a *BOOM*. After the explosion the siren was turned off and peace resumed. This happened about 4 times as I paddled up beyond Proctors Warf. Each time I heard the siren I stopped and turned to watch the explosion.

Further up and around the bend I passed some sort of little park just past the base in Indian Head. I thought I might try to go further as I was not feeling tired, but if I did it would mean returning the kayak during rush hour. I certainly didn't want to be caught on the beltway too late in the afternoon. So, I reluctantly turned around and headed back.

As I passed Thoroughfare Island I started thinking how I wish there was some wind for the trip back across the Potomac. I wasn't hot, since I had rolled several times to cool off, but I wanted some wind and waves to test the boat. I wouldn't be disappointed as the wind began to steadily build all the way back to the edge of the Potomac.

I was about to learn a important lesson. I've read a lot about skegs, and I thought the way they worked was to provide a thin edge to the water to keep the kayak tracking straight. If this is what you thought too, you are only partially right. About mid-river the waves were about a foot high and the wind getting stiffer. I had come this far without the skeg, but it was getting more difficult to hold a straight line. I could still easily edge the boat back in line but I was spending more and more time on edge and didn't want to do this the rest of the way across.

I decided to play with the skeg. Have you ever been doing something you weren't quite sure about when all of the sudden it all clicked? I'll try and explain what I learned today about skegs (at least as it pertains to this Gulfstream):

The boat has a slight tendency to turn into the wind. If you're paddling into the wind, you just paddle with the skeg retracted. Now suppose you want to paddle at right angles to the wind. Drop the skeg down all the way and go to it, right? NO! Deploying the skeg fully made the kayak turn downwind.

Imagine the boat at rest with the bow pointing West and the wind out of the South. If all things were equal the bow and stern would be pushed at the same rate and the boat would remain at right angles to the wind (broached). But they aren't equal and the stern is pushed slightly faster than the bow. This causes the bow to point into the wind (more accurately it causes the stern to point downwind (north in this example)).

So how do we slow down the sideways movement of the stern? Deploy the skeg! Not too much. Too much skeg and you'll slow down the stern so much the bow passes it and your bow is now running downwind. You play with the skeg and find that happy medium where the bow and stern are being pushed sideways at the same rate and bang, you're paddling at right angles to the wind with almost no corrective strokes. If you want your track to be just slightly downwind, add a little more skeg till you are pointed that way. A little upwind? Reduce the amount of skeg exposed under the boat.

In practice, once I started paddling I had to change the amount of skeg exposed by adding a little more or less from my rest position (I think it was a little more - can't remember). I suppose this is because of the forces acting on the skeg as it cut forward through the water.

I'm sure this all seems like, well, "Duh Woody" to everyone else, but I was thoroughly elated about this lesson on skegs. Although I couldn't test it, I suspect what I have sitting on the front or rear deck catching the wind will have more effect on skeg position than how hard the wind is blowing.

So the big question - What color do I want to order it in? I think Yellow on top (more like signal orange) and white on the bottom. White is supposed to show scratches less, and the orange (yellow) should be a good visible color to help keep the bass boats from plowing me under. I think I have the green light from the boss lady (her beef is with where I plan to keep it).

I learned a lot this trip:

1) Skegs don't just act like I thought they would. The amount of skeg deployed actually controls where the kayak is pointed.

2) I learned that with the proper boat it can be controlled like many people have told me it could be, by leaning. My Guillemot had me thinking I didn't know how to do it (I've put the Guillemot up on edge and paddled it in a straight line before). Today I found I could do it, as long as the boat was designed to work that way.

3) The Gulfstream is wider and a bit shorter than my Guillemot. Yet I paddled 14 miles today withtout getting the least bit tired. I suspect this is because the rudder on the Guillemot bleeds off so much energy that it takes more effort to paddle it.

4) The Gulfstream is an excellent boat. Designed by Derek Hutchinson and mass produced by Current Designs, this kayak seems to be really able to take you where you need to go. The most enthusiastic endorsement I got sent to me on the Gulfstream said " Take it out in the s*** and she'll bring you back". I think I have to agree. Good primary and secondary stability. As I become used to the boat I suspect I should be able to edge it even better.

What didn't I like about the GS? There are a few things:

1) Plastic bulkheads. I got one email saying they leaked, another saying after a lot of abuse they didn't. As long as they don't blow out (no one has told me this has happened to them) I can repair minor leaks.

2) I don't really care too much for the rubber hatch covers. They are just plain ugly. But through all my rolling today they didn't leak a single drop. They are quicker to open/close than the neoprene hood and plastic cover type.

3) I think my butt is about the biggest that can fit in the seat. The boat is wide enough that they could put in a wider seat and accommodate a few more people.

4) The back band is minimal. It provided good support for my lower back, but I found my middle back rested on the coaming. In rough water this could have bruised my back. I intend to order a back band that is a bit taller. Tightening up the band would have gotten my back off the rim but I still would have liked a little bit more back support. Adjusting the back band is impossible on the water.

5) Deck lines are minimal, but functional. I can't really say I didn't like'em, other than I thought they were just a bit ugly in their layout (functional, but plain).

A Naked Man & No Trespassing

Trip #49

11 Sep, 1999

A Naked Man

13.2 miles

MAP

Having spent some time in the Gulfstream, it was all I could do to drag myself out of bed to go paddle the Guillemot. It should be here in 2-3 weeks, and I'm already thinking about where I'll take it first.

But in the meantime, I decided to start this morning from Quantico. The forecast was 10-15 MPH and there is a good fetch of water in this area of the river to the north and south, so maybe I could play in some waves. It's dead calm about 7:30 this morning and I had looked at possibly going to Goose Bay. I'm not sure why it is called a bay, since there isn't even an indentation here. Maybe it was a bay at one time, but all the map shows now is a small stream which I hope to explore.

I head north a bit along the west shore for a while trying to decide when I want to cut across the mile and a half of open water. My destination is to the East, into the sun. I decide to keep heading north in hopes the sun will rise a bit beyond eye level before I start across.

Just north of Chapawamsic Island I spot something that looks like a house out on the water. In the low sun I can't tell for sure so I decide to investigate. It takes me on a course a little north of Goose Bay. As I near the "house" I see it is a barge anchored off shore. After paddling around the barge I head towards shore and find two more barges tied off to two steel piers. They appear to be getting ready to load these barges with sand. The two steel piers look to me like someone drove two barges ashore, sunk them and filled around the end on shore with dirt.

I've been paying more attention to my body rotation today. I'm searching for that "groove" I've had only twice before in which I just *know* everything is working as it should. Today I would not find it again, but I did notice my cruising speed is higher. Because of several stops along the way I won't be able to determine my average speed, but I felt as though it was in excess of 4 MPH.

I eventually get to the creek at Goose Bay. The creek enters the river at an extreme angle which hides it's entrance to all except those passing it at close range. I twist and wind myself back into the bay(?), but my way is soon blocked by a combination of thick green slime and a brown substance that looks like oil. Not wanting a permanent scum line on my kayak I turn around and head back out.

Back in the river I head south again until passing Sandy Point. The remains of a sunken wooden ship clue me in that I'm getting close to Mallows Bay, so I turn to head back across the river. I can see a beach on the far shore a little south of where I had planned to cross, so I decided to check it out.

The beach appeared to be used by crabbers, as there was a large pile of crab pots stacked on the shore. I turn north now and study the shore line. There are several sandy and rock cliffs in this area that look interesting to me.

Around Clifton Point I pass the stern of a boat anchored about 100 feet from shore. As I pass I look over and see a lone naked man rubbing himself down with suntan oil. At least, I assume it was some sort of suntan lotion. He seems unconcerned that I am there, and I turn my head back to study the shoreline some more. Good thing one of the kids is not with me today.

I head on back to Chapawamsic Creek and begin to load up my kayak. A young boy shows some interest and begins to ask a lot of questions. I answer and he mentions there were about 30 kayaks out on the river in a big group. I then notice that Atlantic Kayak's van is parked up from the ramp with a kayak trailer on the back. There doesn't appear to be 30 kayaks 8^) missing from the trailer. I'd later learn this was a Mallows Bay tour.

Trip #50

12 Sep, 1999

No Trespassing

10.5 miles

MAP

My 50th trip in a kayak occurred a few days after my 38th birthday. Today I'm feeling quite old as I unload the kayak at Mason Neck State park. A couple guiding a canoe trip asks if I'm headed to Kanes Creek, but I'm not. I think I'll head around "the neck" to a marshy area I went with Bill Dodge to one day. My real goal today is to again work on my body rotation while paddling. Normally, I only pay attention to how I paddle when I'm tired, but I'm finding that my level of exercise increases if I twist my upper body all the time.

I also want to practice my roll and a few other things, but that will wait until I return. It's too early and the sun has not yet risen high enough to eliminate all of the shade so I want to make as much progress while I can.

I follow the shore closely on the way out. The GPS indicates I'm running between 4 and 5 MPH. High for me, but I think I won't be able to keep it going at this pace for long. It's calm and the only ripples are the occasional bass boats dashing about.

Somehow I manage to keep up this pace for quite a while. I can feel my shoulder telling me to back off a bit, but I hang in there to see if it gets any worse. I arrive at the little creek on the far side and find a sign has been planted dead center of the mouth of the creek that states "Government Property - No Trespassing".

Argh! All this way to find I've been banned from entering! I think about beaching to stretch my legs, but all the signs for the wildlife sanctuary remind me that I have to stay away. So I head back, again focusing on my paddling.

Back near the park there is an unnamed point of land sticking out into the bay. A small jetty of rocks also sticks out a little further. The water is shallow through here and as the big boats go by they create some good size waves to play in as they roll across the shallow bottom. I decide to try and surf a few and as a good size wave comes up it throws me sideways and I see my entire bow up to my compass get sucked under water. I'm near capsize but a low brace keeps me upright. My brace was on the wrong side and I'm lucky my blade didn't catch and flip me over.

Enough fun. I paddle back to the put in and grab a snack. I shut off the GPS to preserve my track so I can calculate my distance and average speed when I return home. Without a landing this should give me a good idea of how well I did for the day.

I paddle back out from shore until my paddle no longer sticks in the mud when I poke it down. I try a pawlatta and then several rolls without the paddle extended. I miss about 30% of the time, but the pawlatta is faithful 100% of the time.

I've been reading the Sea Kayaking book written by Derek Hutchinson. In there he describes a low brace turn (low telemark turn) that I've seen several people do, but I never could figure it out myself. But after reading Derek's description my first attempt is successful in turning me 90 degrees. I try several more on each side and manage to stay upright in all but one.

I head in towards shore and execute one last low brace turn to bring me parallel to the shore line. My average speed for the trip today turns out to be a whopping 4.68 MPH! Much higher than anything else I've managed and over 10.5 miles to boot. I'm really happy with it, but my shoulder feels it just a tad. I may have to back off a little and just keep inching up the bar to get as high as I can without damaging my shoulder.

Deep in the Heart of the Bay & Back to Stump Neck

Trip # 51

18 Sep, 1999

Deep in the Heart of the Bay

12.9 miles

MAP

Joan and I were supposed to meet by the end boat ramp at Sandy Point park at 9:00 am. We would have made it too, if not for the park vehicles blocking the entrance to the park. Trees and power lines were down in the park from hurricane Floyd, and they didn't expect to reopen for a few more days.

Me being my early bird self knew it would be another hour before Joan figured this bit of useful information out. I had forgotten my cell phone at home so I couldn't call her. I started to head off for Pier 7 and just see if she showed up, but at the last second a thought flashed through my mind and I swerved off the road and just sat and waited for her.

After Joan showed up we weighed our options and headed for Galesville. By about 10 or 10:30 we were finally on the water. We were headed out for the open Chesapeake Bay. The water was calm and we really didn't have crossing the bay as a goal, but in the back of my mind I held on to a "See how we feel" after paddling out a ways.

Several miles from shore we say a large ship heading out towards the ocean. Coming North, a tug pulling a barge with a long cable chugged along. Both ships were still several miles in front of us but I wondered if we would see their wake. Joan recalled Brian's trip report where he talked about the long distance between a tug and it's barge. The red and green buoys are 3 miles apart on this section of the bay, yet both ships stayed much further towards the red buoy than the green. After getting into the channel by about a half mile, we had traveled a little over 6 miles without a break. Both of us were needing a walkabout, so we turned back for the nearest shore. Another 3 1/2 miles would have gotten us to the far shore, but at that point we would only be half way home, a little further than I wanted to paddle today.

By the time we got back to shore my butt felt glued to the seat. But I managed to walk it off while we had lunch. Back again in the boats we paddled the remaining 3 miles back to the launch site.

Trip #52

19 Sep, 1999

Back to Stump Neck

15.4 miles

MAP

I always learn something when I paddle with Bill Dodge, but he usually will wear my butt out. Today is no different as myself and 7 others were to meet at Leesylvania State Park. I got there an hour early to practice my rolling, and on popping to the surface once I could see Bill walking on the beach so I headed in. It was almost 10:00 when 7 kayaks holding 8 people struck out for Cockpit Point for our crossing to the other side of the Potomac.

A few of us took a close look at the tanker tied up at Cockpit Point. We then turned east for our crossing. Bill brought up the rear since he spent more time checking out the tanker. On the other side of the river we paddled south around the end of Stump Neck and just far enough in to get out of the wind. Everyone went ashore for a needed leg stretching except me, who stayed out in the water and rolled a bit.

When we regrouped we pushed on southward to a little creek below Goose Bay. Several folks push in to the creek and the rest of us pulled onshore to eat lunch. I had explored this creek only a few days before, and I *really* needed to get out of the kayak so I stayed on shore.

After lunch we headed north retracing our steps to get here. My goal was to keep up with the double, which had stayed far out front on the trip down. By experimenting with my strokes I got into a rhythm that soon had me out in front of the double. Not wanting to give up this efficient paddling stroke, I pressed on to see how long I could keep this up.

The only time I remember stopping other than for water was to allow a big pleasure boat to pass. The boat did not see me at all, and after passing I could see the operator was more interested in talking on his cell phone than looking where he was going.

I paddled into shore and loaded up my kayak and returned as the others came in to help them drag their boats up to their cars. The last group in was harassed by some jet skis, which ultimately led to me file a complaint with the Virginia Fish and Game and the State Park Service.

Well, the first time I wrote this story, there was a lot more detail. As I was putting on the final touches...you guessed it... the computer crashed. Several weeks have passed and my enthusiasm to re-write the story is lacking. But, it's still well worth what you paid for it...

Woody

Moonlight Paddle

Trip #53

MAP

6.7 miles

Last night was a near perfect night for a moonlight paddle. Joan and Mardie met me at Belle Haven Marina about 7:00 and we got on the water right at dark. Two women launching at the same time we did were heading out to have dinner on the water from their kayaks. After busting open a couple light sticks we were on our way south of the Marina.

The Atlantic kayak tour group was also out on the water, and we could see their lights through the trees of the marsh. We continued south in open water about a mile and then cut back into the marsh. It was high tide and the normally narrow shallow channel was no where to be found.

In the trees were some large white birds. Joan told me several times what they were, but I still forgot. It was really cool how the white from their feathers reflected off them in the moonlight.

We paddled all the way up to the bridge. Proceeding further would have meant a carry over the bridge since I doubt I would have been able to lay over far enough to pass under. We turned around and started out. We tried several times to find the "shortcut" out of the marsh, once almost stumbling on another loan kayaker who had expected she would be out there alone.

We ran into the Atlantic Kayak group who were rafted up changing batteries in their flashlights. A beaver had made his presence known by slapping the water behind them. As we headed back out of the marsh another beaver started slapping his tail in front of us.

Once we were clear of the marsh we headed south past hog island and then turned around. The trip south seemed like we were really moving along as the small wavelets moved towards us giving the feeling of speed. When we turned and headed back north with the wind it seemed as if we had started crawling, barely making any progress. But we were back at the marina all too fast.

A nice little paddle of 6.7 miles.

Sweepers and Strainers

Trip #54

Patuxent River

15 miles

MAP

The last 50 miles have seemed to drag by as I get closer and closer to 500 miles for the season. I thought for sure I would reach that this weekend, but my truck needed a few minor repairs and an oil change so I ended up 7.6 miles from crossing the big 500.

But I'll get there.

Saturday Joan and I decided to try and paddle up from Route 4 to Highway 214 on the Patuxent. Rumors have circulated that earlier in the year it was passable from Route 50 all the way to Route 4. I didn't know how far up the river was tidal, and how far up we would begin to feel the southbound current. The tide was in our favor as we launch in a rising tide about 9:15 and high tide is around noon.

Around Spyglass Island we came across a buck floating in the water covered in flies. The wind was in our favor so the swarm of green flies was the only clue we had that something had died. We would pass down the other side of the island on the way back, bypassing this view, but paying for it with our noses.

We paddled up river making pretty good time. Finding a place about an hour out to stretch our legs proved to be difficult. The soft and slippery mud finally won as we decided to take our chances anyway. The place we decided to land had all the comforts one could ask for; a crude privy, grill, covered shelter, everything except a decent bank from which to get out of our boats.

After struggling ashore and anchoring our boats to keep them from being carried away with the tide (the bank was too steep to drag them ashore) we slipped up the bank to stretch our legs. Back into the boats trying our best not to carry much mud with us, we headed north again till we found a little marshy 'pond' we could explore by carefully navigating around the rocks blocking the entrance. The pond was small and we were soon underway again north.

I noticed at this point the water was now running south. Too early for the tide to have changed, I guessed it must have been from the recent rains in the area. There were large pockets of red-winged black birds all along the river. As soon as we passed a large group and were beginning to fade from earshot, another large group would come into range. We continued north against ever increasing current. The further north we went the more often we had to maneuver around logs and sunken branches.

As we neared Queen Anne bridge, the sunken logs became fallen trees across the river. We managed to squeeze by 5 or 6 until we got to the bridge. It looked as if this bridge once carried cars, but now was reduced to an eroding foot bridge. The bridge was covered in rust and from the bottom you could see the metal getting thin in places.

North of the bridge we continued on, the current becoming faster against us and the trees becoming more and more of a challenge to get through. Just 6/10s of a mile from highway 214 we squeezed around one tree only to be completely blocked in by another 20 feet away. We would have to turn back. The water was becoming too swift to make headway and the portage around these trees did not look easy. Through the tree blocking our way it appeared there were even more trees to prevent us from reaching our goal. So we turned south and pulled ashore for lunch.

The trip south was even more challenging as the current would try to push our boats sideways as we tried to thread our way back through the narrow openings around the fallen trees. The water was not flowing fast enough to pin us, but just enough to turn us sideways if we didn't approach from the right angle. Several times Joan and I would have to back off and try again to slip through a gap, usually when we would pass through a gap on one side of the river, and have to quickly cross to the gap on the other side of the river.

We made it back in record time as the current turned again to receding tide water. But not before we were treated to several hundred honking geese as they made their way south. The wind picked up the last several miles, robing us of a completely effortless return.

The last stretch of water we passed a young child paddling solo in an Old Towne Loon. He was wearing a PFD, but still struggling away as he made his way north. Once back at the launch site we saw a couple eating lunch before launching their SOTs. A man who had returned from a paddle north was loading up his kayak. We loaded up and my mind turned towards home for the hour ride back.

The 500th mile

Trip #55

15 Miles

Map

In the middle of the Potomac I looked left to see a large ship heading my way. It was way up river and much too early to be concerned about it. I paddled on for about 10 more minutes and looked again. Still a bit far to tell for sure, but I alter course a little to make sure there will be no problems later. Another 5 minutes go by and now I can tell I need to alter course to stay out of the way of this large ship. It's big. Bigger than any ship I've seen this far up on the Potomac. I alter course again but this time the ship seems to alter course as well, putting me back on a collision course. I'm getting dangerously close and running out of options while at the same time paddling with all my might. By now I'm so close my kayak feels like it is being pulled back towards the ship by its propellers. I try my best to paddle at right angles but no matter what it seems the ship is staying on top of me. Before I know it, the ship IS on top of me and I'm being sucked under the hull by the massive propellers. The last sound I hear is my wooden boat starting to disintegrate as it is pulled full force along the bottom of the hull.

My alarm clock goes off at 6:00 a.m. and I awake with a jolt. It's all I can do to keep from shouting "SH*T!". My morning has started with a nightmare. I shake it off and drag myself out of bed. It takes me a while to get focused and on the road and in the middle of town there is a bad car wreck, which causes a detour. It's 8:15 when I finally shove off at Quantico.

The tide is running out so I'm quickly spit out of the narrow creek and into the Potomac. As I near the edge I see some small and narrow waves coming directly at me. These are wind driven from the south, but they haven't picked up much mass and are narrow from the front to the rear of the wave. This causes my kayak to seem as though it is a teeter-totter as my bow buries under every wave.

It is 5.5 miles directly to my first waypoint. But traveling in that direction takes me head on into the waves and wind. I decide to slightly quarter the waves and choose the south end of Mallows Bay as my navigation waypoint. The going is slow. And 30 minutes into the trip I've managed to only reduce the gap between me and Thorne Gut by one mile. In an hour the distance has shrunk by just over two miles. I was thinking I should shorten my trip plans since the going is so rough and my shoulder is feeling every paddle stroke.

Despite the pain in my shoulder I'm glad to see the waves. It's been quite a while since I've been able to paddle in any wind. I figure though that as I get closer to the western shore that the waves will get smaller and I'll eventually pick up speed.

Near the channel I look and see a big boat heading my way. My nightmare flashes back to my mind and I decide to sit tight while the boat passes. After also waiting for a sailboat to pass I head across the marked channel and to the south end of Mallows.

An hour and 45 minutes into the trip I've only managed to cover 4 miles. I think about heading back but instead push on. The wind is not so bad near the western shore and I think my speed is picking up. The bass boats are thicker along the shore. While out in the middle of the Potomac I had the water all to myself. Only the work boats and the occasional fisherman crossing the river ever ventured out there.

As I enter Wades Bay I decide to hug the shore and benefit from the protection from the wind. The water appears flat towards shore and as I paddle in I find out why - hydrilla has choked this end of the bay. I turn back south into more open water and just cut across the bay.

On the other side I begin looking for my first destination. Thorne Gut has to be here somewhere. If not for the insistence of my GPS, I would have never found it. It was barely the size of a small ditch. Certainly not navigable. So I beach the kayak for lunch hoping my second waypoint would prove a more interesting destination.

On the other end of the bay there are people standing on the beach milling about. I can't tell from where I am what they are doing but it looks like they are going over one of the duck blinds. After finishing up lunch I strike out for waypoint number two - The south end of Brent Marsh.

The wind has shifted from the south east to the south west which negates all advantage I should have had crossing the river. At least I'm not heading straight into the waves any more. The river is almost three and a half miles wide here and I need to get to the directly opposite shore. The tide was still running out as you can tell by my curved track on the southern end of the map.

In the middle I again thought about turning north and heading back. With the wind at my back it would be smooth sailing and peaceful with the lack of boats in the middle of the river. But again I stuck to the script since I did want to see what Brent Marsh looked like.

In the middle of the river were some sticks stuck down in the water. Along with that was a string that also went into the water and the extra amount coiled up and hung on the sticks. I checked the GPS and find I'm crossing over 500 miles as I pass this point. I briefly thought about doing a victory roll, but the prospect of having to stop and put on my paddling jacket to block the wind after getting wet didn't appeal to me.

At Brent Marsh I paddle up near what appears to be one of several islands protected by rotting wooden seawalls. As I got closer though I see these are sunken wooden ships that trees have grown up in. There are fisherman all around and I ask how the fishing is going. No one today has caught any fish. To stay in deeper water I don't go in close to the marsh. The hydrilla is too thick to bother with today. But my butt is starting to need a break so I begin looking for an easy place to land.

I pull ashore just north of Clifton Point. Here I look around the hard rocky outcroppings for fossils but find none. While getting back in the kayak I notice the water has turned shinny. The wind has stopped, and as usual robbed me of the free ride back. But I press on with persistence and finally turn into the little creek leading to the boat ramp. As I pass near the bridge a car with a kayak on top crosses on the way away from the boat ramp.

When I got home I downloaded the track into the computer. I find because of an addition error in my journal I never crossed the 500 mile mark.

My alarm clock goes off at 6:00 a.m. and I awake with a jolt. It's all I can do to keep from shouting "SH*T!". My morning has started with a nightmare...8^)

My first Mile - A Second Maiden Voyage

Trip #56

16 Oct, 1999

16.3 miles

MAP

As I started to unload the new Gulfstream on the boat ramp of Fountainhead State Park, I realized I didn't want to set the stern on the rough ramp. On the Guillemot the rudder pin is a first to touch as I lower it off the truck, protecting it's fiberglass coat from the harsh pavement. As a last minute thought, I tossed my PFD to the ground where I expected to sit the stern and lowered the back of the boat. I then went to the cockpit and hoisted her into the air and carried it to the green Astroturf.

The newly 303 covered body was slick. The Astroturf, slanted ramp, and 303 combination made for a kayak wanting to slide into the water as if raring to go whether I was aboard or not. After finding out I couldn't open the hatches because they were too slick, I took a towel and soaked up as much of the 303 as I could. I could then open the hatches and store my gear.

Joan called to tell me she was running late. This would give me a few minutes to play. I paddled off as the fog about a foot thick rose off the water to vanish into thin air. The first thing I noticed was my right handedness. I hadn't noticed it when I demo'd the boat. But here it was, and I did have to correct for it pretty often. The water was mirror flat with no wind. I paddled out a quarter of a mile and turned back for the ramp. After adjusting the foot pegs out a notch I slid back into the water and glided to the other side of the reservoir.

After a little sculling and slipping the kayak side to side, I turned to face towards the ramp, crossed my arms and leaned back. I couldn't help smile as I took in the beauty of the changing leaves, the quiet crisp air, and the beaver crossing my bow.

Joan showed up earlier than I expected so I quickly paddled back to the ramp to meet her. After loading up her boat we headed east towards the dam. The water remained calm and we quite slowly meandered our way through the reservoir. Most of the boats were using electric motors, and the rowing sculls made only a 'woosh woosh' sound. Within what seemed like no time at all the dam appeared. We were about four and a half miles from the ramp. It just didn't seem like it. We beached near the power lines for lunch.

On the bank was a small one person boat upside down. This seemed a little strange since it had Maryland registration numbers but we were in Virginia. I wrote down the registration numbers and I'll call it in on Monday to see if it is stolen.

After lunch I let Joan paddle my kayak back to the boat ramp. Again this seemed to take no time at all. I looked at my watch and knew we were putting on some distance, but the cool, windless morning and the great colors in the trees made it seem like a stroll through the park. After a short break on shore I decided to wade out up to my thighs in my Polartec Thermal Stretch farmer john. It was freakin cold! Much colder than my wetsuit. Joan mentioned that maybe the water needed to warm up inside, so I waded out again and made myself stay. After the initial rush the water did warm after a minute or two and felt ok. I surmise that the fuzzy inner fleece allows more water to enter initially so there is more water to warm than with the wetsuit. After warming up it felt much better. Not like my wetsuit, but fairly close. When I walked out of the water the garment stayed warm, but there was no wind to chill it down. The huge advantage of this garment is it's comfort while paddling. It is soft and supple, much more than my wetsuit.

We paddled off again, this time towards the fork where Bull Run Creek and the Occoquan join together. Again a beautiful trip. On past the remains of Ryan's dam, and several fishermen trying out their luck.

I noticed what appeared to be a piece of trash in a tree overhanging the water. I paddled closer expecting to see something like a Wal-Mart bag stuck in the tree, but instead found an odd looking bird. It had a red head, much like a chicken. It had a dark underside and white topside with long white tail feathers.

Despite Joan and I paddling all around and underneath it, the bird seemed not to care, so we paddled on. We arrived at the fork in the river and turned to head back. Once back at the ramp a guy was unloading his kayak. I asked him if he was a member of CPA and his response was "what is CPA?"

Earlier I had shown Joan some pieces of paper I had printed up with club info and the info for the list server. I fished one out of my wallet and handed it to the guy and we finished loading up our boats and headed home. At home I calculated 16.3 miles minimum. This would rank as my third longest in miles, yet the shortest in "mental distance".

New blood at Kanes

Trip #57

3 miles

Charmaine had written me an email after seeing a post of mine on Paddlewise. She correctly surmised I was local to Virginia and told me she was waiting on her new Folbot to be delivered. I passed along info about the CPAKayaker mail group and offered to paddle with her when her boat came in. And then I forgot about it. That is, until she wrote again and told me her kayak was in, and wondered when I would be free to paddle.

So we arranged to paddle Sunday at Mason Neck State Park. The plan was to meet at 9:00, since Joan and I wanted to watch how a folder went together. Me being the early bird that I am, left the house about 6:00. When I stopped at 7-11, my truck would not start. It appeared that the battery had gone dead. A guy who stopped off to deliver the newspapers gave me a push to get the truck started again, and I drove back home. I thought I would have to call Charmaine and Joan to tell them I wouldn't make it, but after cleaning off the battery posts with some sand paper the truck started fine so I headed out again to the park.

I still got there early, about 8:30, but not early enough to go for a quick paddle. Joan and Charmaine both showed up about 9:00 and after introductions I sat down to watch the Folbot go together. Charmaine had told me the first time she put it together it took about two hours, but yesterday she had done it in just one. At about 45 minutes she was nearly done when she noticed a mistake and had to disassemble the boat to fix it. But she still had it finished just a little over an hour.

After spending a minute or two explaining the surrounding landscape, we headed off to Kanes Creek. I explained that the Bald Eagles were a bit shy, and once they spot the boats, head deeper into the wildlife refuge. It wouldn't be long before we spotted an eagle and on cue it took off and flew back further into the park. We headed deeper and saw several Osprey and Blue Herons and managed to spot the eagle once more as it headed still deeper into the park.

On the return trip I decided I needed to practice a paddlefloat reentry in my new boat. I put on my neoprene hood, and rolled a few times. It protected my ears, but I'll need to try it again as it gets colder. The biggest shock was the water running down my back.

Finally I bailed out of the kayak and attached my paddle and float to my 'off side'. I tried a few times but couldn't get back up on the rear deck so I moved the outrigger to my 'on side' and made it up on the first try. When I first went into the water I was cold, but by the time I got back in the boat the water in my suit had warmed. The new boat is higher off the water than my Guillemot, and I'll need to practice this reentry a few more times to get the hang of it.

As I pumped out my kayak, I began to really miss the electric pump that I installed on my Guillemot. I had gotten spoiled. It eventually drained though and I borrowed Joan's sponge to mop up the final quart.

We headed back to shore for lunch and while digging out my sandwich I noticed about 3-4 tablespoons of water in the front compartment. I'll have to flood the boat at home to find out if it came in around the hatch or around the bulkhead.

Charmaine and I decided to call it a day, while Joan headed off for a longer paddle. When I went to the parking lot to get my truck, it almost didn't start, so I left it running as I loaded up. The Folbot had come apart in just a few minutes, and I left Charmaine loading her car as I headed off to buy a new battery.

Woody

Wind, But no Waves

Trip #58

Saturday, 23 Oct, 1999

14 miles

MAP

The last minute plan was to go play in the waves at Sandy Point. Winds were supposed to be out of the northwest, 20-25 MPH. A small craft advisory was in affect. As I crossed over the Potomac (about the half way point of my trip), Joan called to tell me she wouldn't make it, but that Robb Holt would meet me there at the small craft launch site. I got there early as usual and was scouting around looking for any chance of big waves, but the wind was more out of the west - southwest than I expected. The wind was blowing hard, but all the waves were small and choppy.

Robb showed up and suggested we head south to Burley Creek, which is just before the mouth of the Severn River. We loaded up and headed southwest with the wind almost in our face. The Gulfstream performed flawlessly if not downright boring in the high winds.

We stopped for a quick break just before rounding Hacket Point, but were soon underway again. We turned into the first creek but Robb realized before long this was the wrong creek. We explored it for a ways anyway before turning back. I pulled out my GPS but couldn't locate Burley Creek. As we were sitting there and I was looking for the creek, Robb mentioned how steady I was sitting in the chop while he was bouncing around. I'm not sure what caused the extra stability in these conditions; Wider beam? Deeper V hull? Flared sides?

We did finally manage to find Burley road which the creek was just to the south, but we took a little time to explore the creek we were already in. We did finally explore Burley creek though, and after heading out I swung a little wide past Possum point to line me up for a direct wind from the aft to push me back towards Hacket Point. We covered the 1.5 miles back to Hacket in record time and turned northward towards Sandy Point.

And then it started. No matter what skeg setting I used, how much I bounced on one side, how hard I swept on the left, the kayak wanted to turn towards shore. It wasn't impossible to hold on course, but it was more difficult than I expected. I compensated a bit my shifting more paddle onto my left side. Still, there was a lot of sweeping going on.

About halfway up this reach we looked back to see dark clouds and rain coming in. We hightailed it back to the launch site and loaded up, missing the rain.

Trip #59

24 Oct, 1999

13 miles

MAP

We were to meet at 9:00 just south of Colonial Beach, on Gum Bar Point. Of course I showed up early and was beginning to worry I was in the wrong place when Bill Dodge rolled up about 10 minutes to 9:00. Three others quickly appeared but we waited another 45 minutes for two no-shows before Bill called them to find them still at home. With everyone present or accounted for we struck off for Mattox Creek.

There wasn't much wind but we cruised mostly along the shore instead of cutting straight across. We all climbed out on the back side of Paynes Point for a quick break before venturing into Mattox. The creek contains lots of silty mud and little chance to get out, so we soaked up our last bit of unconfined freedom and set off to explore the creek.

The wind varied from being "in our face" to none at all further into the trees. The Gulfstream performed completely as expected with no trace of the hard one sided turns I had experienced at the end of the previous day. I spent a lot of time placing her on edge to make her turn through the twisty creek. I'm still learning how far I can place it on edge. I can submerge the first half inch of the coaming with almost no sculling support. Once I put it up on edge to turn and pulled it up to what I thought was too far. But she didn't go over and spun like a top. I was a bit shocked and didn't want to try it again in the shallow water, but it is on my list of things to explore how far she can be pushed.

There is one, annoying part of this trip. There is a nearby drag strip, and this is the *only* sound you can hear the whole time you are in the creek. If you plan to visit, find out the schedule of the track and avoid when it is in use. At some point the creek narrowed to prevent further passage and I turned on the GPS to measure the distance back to the launch site.

About half way back we stopped at the marina to have lunch and make use of the facilities. A lady helping her husband launch their boat commented to another boatman "Are we crazy for going out on a day like today?" , referring to herself and family.

"Yep" the boatman replied. I couldn't help but wonder that this fellow thought of the five kayakers before him.

We launched again and after rounding Paynes Point we were faced with a strong and gusty headwind. My kayak again started to experience directional problems of a sort. That is, until I think I figured out a work around. I had picked a point on the far shore to steer towards. I found it hard to hold that course, while at the same time trying to stay near the rest of the group. I decided to swing a little wider to get into a little bigger wave action and found the few degrees difference required little corrective strokes. I'm not sure why, but it was almost as if the boat had its own natural heading and if I just ran with it that way for a while, then turned back in a zig-zag fashion, it required much less effort. I'll have to play a little more with this to be sure though.

Back at the launch site I looked a little north and saw the white caps. I was really tempted to head out and play in them, but after this 13 mile trip I wimped out and loaded up and headed home. An overall good trip despite the drag strip. The wind was a good workout, especially the hard pull in the home stretch. It also provided me a few areas to experiment on at the skills workshop on Lake Anna next weekend!

God can cook

Trip #60

30 Oct, 1999

Distance: Not much - Doesn't matter

Brian Blankinship, along with our most gracious host and hostess David Compton and Teresa Pendleton, put together a skills workshop within the cooling pond of the Lake Anna nuclear power plant. At about 9:30 am some twenty odd kayakers began gathering in Teresa and David's back yard as if drawn to this place by some unstoppable force. It reminded me of the movie E.T. as people from all over Virginia and Maryland began to congregate and set up a small tent village.

When everyone was nearly set up, Brian called us together on the bank of the lake to make introductions. First there was the *staff*, Nick, Gar, Spence, Kevin and Brain (did I leave anyone out?). Then we all introduced ourselves, where we were from and experience levels. I was surprised at the number of "intermediate" paddlers. I deemed myself an "intermediate beginner" and even felt uncomfortable classifying myself that high. After we were done with intro's Brian referred to the surrounding scenery and stated "Can't God cook?". The trees were filled with orange, red, yellow, green and brown, and every other color in between. The water was 79 degrees, and the sky was crystal clear. My limited vocabulary prohibits me from describing such a scene properly which is why you see little of this in my trip reports. But this scene was quite fantastic, and Brian's words summed it up most accurately.

We split in two teams. The team I was assigned to started with paddling basics; the forward stroke, reverse stroke, draw stroke, sculling, and then some low and high braces. Eventually someone went over and needed to be rescued. I too ended up upside down and tried to quickly set up to roll, but I didn't set up properly and my sinus filled with water. As I came near the surface I tried to get a breath of air and got a little water instead. I decided to bail out and after spitting out half the lake I became the next person to demo a person being rescued. After emptying my kayak A.J. came up bow to stern to hold my kayak. I had my feet back in the cockpit and started to rotate in, but I rotated away from the support kayak and was soon back in the water. My PFD was riding almost above my head. I had taken off a polartec jacket earlier and didn't retighten it to fit properly. I tried my best to tighten it while in the water and eventually made it back into the kayak.

After lunch we went for a paddle. Again we divided into two groups; a faster - longer group which intended to go about 12 miles, and a shorter - slower group with about 6 - 8 miles as a goal. After spending the morning working on skills and recognizing the skills and speed of the faster group, I opted for the slower paddle. I figured I could have kept up with the faster group but didn't want to risk aggravating my shoulder on the first day. Dave and I tried to set a nice 3 MPH pace, but Spence kept reminding me I was causing the group to spread out, so we settled down to about 1.5 to 2 MPH. About a little over an hour out we stopped for a quick break and then started our return trip. It wasn't long the fast group caught up and some passed us just as Spence was starting to demo towing another kayak to A.J. Brain dropped out of the fast group to give some pointers and before long we were back at base camp.

We split into groups again with Brian, Carol, Matt, Silka, and myself taking up a kayak game much like dodge ball but played with a soft foam football. You get 2 points for hitting a person, and 1 point for hitting their boat. What a great game for practicing skills! A sideways skull, forward and reverse strokes and the ability to turn on a dime were needed skills. We didn't keep score but I'm sure I probably lost since I didn't manage to hit anyone but Silka with the football. Carol had her new Mariner kayak and was perpetually being kidded about giving her boat the first scratch.

After the game I changed into some dry clothes to get ready to go into town for dinner. Brian worked on rolls with Silka and she managed to roll up her first time! Wanting to stop while ahead the rest of the people got ready to go to dinner and we piled into cars and trucks for the 20 minute drive into town. About 20 of us herded into a small Chinese restaurant which surprisingly not only managed to seat us, but also get our food to us quickly.

Back at the lake, we all mutually agreed to call off the night paddle. It would have been really nice, but I don't think anyone wanted to change back into wet clothes after dinner. A few of us sat around the camp fire while some folks debated the proper genus of some weeds they found growing next to the fire pit. In the distance we could hear Nick playing guitar out by the dock.

The next morning we managed to get up after a restful night. The night sky had been full of stars and the morning sky was just as clear. We made it onto the water to practice more skills, primarily one on one rolling instruction. At some point in the rolling instruction, it may have been the day before, Robb snapped his Greenland paddle in half. I noticed that people with the handicap of having hair look different when wet. I must have tried to figure out who Alice was for 10 minutes while she was being baptized by Gar with his rolling instruction.

Around lunch time a small group headed off to paddle and I just practiced a few skills before packing up for the ride home. It was a fantastic time and my thanks go out to all the "staff", our host and hostess, and Brian for putting it all together. It was great meeting some new faces and seeing old ones again. And I think I'll put in my reservation now for the next skills workshop!

Hunters!

Trip #61

MAP

5.8 Miles

Saturday was a pretty benign paddle. The task at hand was to have just a short paddle around Piscataway creek and invade the Atlantic Kayak Used boat sale from the water. I had just put my kayak in the water at the end of Warf Road and was paddling across the creek to look at the ducks on the far side when Joan arrived and blew her horn. I turned around and beached to help her carry her boat to the water.

We discussed getting off the water early since Joan had a First Aid and CPR class to attend. We paddled off at an angle across the creek towards the Ft. Washington Marina. Not far from shore shotgun blasts rang out. BLAM BLAM

I turned to see a group of hunters not far down the shore dressed in camouflage milling about around a duck blind. We headed more directly towards the other side, giving as much berth to the hunters as possible. Still more shots rang out, and I only could hope that we were out of range of the bird shot.

On the other side we paddled by the Atlantic Kayak folks rushing to get their wares on display. We said hello and decided to paddle on since it would be another hour before they opened for business. Out in the Potomac I finally got to see Ft. Washington. As much as I paddle the Potomac, I've never seen the fort. Even now the Sun is in my eyes so I couldn't tell much. We head back to the marina to look at the boats.

We debated trying to teach me to get out of my kayak on the floating dock, or paddle around the beach and walk to the boat demo. Joan started to try and get out, but after looking at the difference between the dock and the water we decided to paddle to the beach. As we came around the other side of the dock, Joan mentioned it looked closer to the water on this side. I got up closer and she was right, a BIG difference between the two sides of the dock.

I decided to give it a try, and after a few pointers from Joan I managed to get on the dock without falling in. A pure miracle if you ask me. Joan pop onto the dock fairly effortlessly and we tied up our boats to the dock as if they were some sort of exotic yacht.

We milled around and saw Charmaine Ruppolt, who was there looking for a new paddle to replace her heavy Feathercraft stick. Joan and I were looking at the different seats in the Current Designs boats (I'm looking for a potential replacement for my stock Gulfstream seat - one with a bit more "beam") when Joan said something like "Woody, take a look at this". This caught the attention of a nice gentleman who asked if I was the "Woody who wrote the stories on CPA". A bit embarrassed I told Joan she needed to start calling me something else in public 8^). We chatted a bit and I then went over to look at the used paddles for sale. I ended up buying a cheap Aquabound paddle to replace my spare for $50.

After Joan picked up a few things we were back again in our boats. Getting in was much easier than getting out for some reason. Maybe gravity. We untied our boats and headed up the creek as a police boat pulled out from the marina and across the river, I guess to check out the hunters. Up the creek the water turned shallow quickly and we found ourselves constantly running aground. We probed for quite a while looking for the channel, but gave up and paddled back to the launch site. I did find a dead crab in the water and I scooped him up with my Greenland paddle and sat him on my front hatch as we paddled back to the ramp. Sort of like the equivalent of taking your dog for a ride in the car with him sticking his head out the window is what I imagined. Cold water had probably done this fellow in though so his tongue stayed in it's mouth.

It was still early for Joan's class so I suggested we try on our dry suits. After some really comical contortions we managed to slip them over our wet suits and wade out into the water. Joan suggested I squat down to burp the suit which I did. The tide had really gone out and I was soon knee deep in silt. We backed out and probed further down the creek. It was better, but soon turned to silt again before getting deep. I decided to heck with it and just leaned back. I floated there like the Stay Puff marshmallow man. I reached up and vented a little air around my neck which helped a little. Joan did the same thing and mentioned she had a hard time turning over to get back up. When I tried, I rolled over with a little effort, but now found my arms and legs up to the first joint in muck. YUCK! Luckily, it didn't stick to the fabric well.

The only cold spot was my hands. I was only wearing fingerless gloves so that was to be expected. We walked back up the shore to get in our boats to paddle a bit in the suits. I raised a leg to check the suit stretch and was shocked to see a stream of water shoot from between my legs. This of course was funny to me so I made it a point to show Joan. The seat of my suit was double layered, and the ports to vent the water trapped between the layers vented right in the crotch. Anyway, if you picture a 38 year old man squatting down so a stream of water shoots out from between his legs and then laughing about it...ummm...I guess you had to be there.

We paddled maybe 5 minutes, more to check the cut of the suits than anything else. We landed and Joan mentioned her suit had leaked at the wrist. The wrist seals a pretty good, so we were both trying to figure out how the water got in. When she took her suit off though, it became apparent that it was sweat that was beginning to pool at the wrists. That was the big difference between Joan's coated nylon suit and my Gore-Tex suit. We had only been in them for a few minutes, but I never once felt any sweat starting to build on the inside of mine.

We went through the same comical contortions to get our suits off and Joan headed to class while I backed my truck down to the water to wash the scum line off my kayak. While finishing up the last bit I looked up at the single lane road that leads up to the boat ramp, and a large deer stood across the road for a few minutes before wondering off into the woods.

Wind AND Waves!

Trip #62

10.9 miles

MAP

Great. First I look at the marine forecast and find there is a small craft advisory out for the Chesapeake Bay. This will certainly curtail our trip out to Gibson Island. I'm almost to the beltway when Joan calls to tell me she is sick and won't be able to make it. Should I still go?

I decide to go give it a look. Predictions were for 2-3 foot waves, water temp was a cool 57 degrees with the wind blowing 15-25 MPH. If it looked beyond my abilities I'd drive back towards DC and paddle the Patuxent.

At Sandy Point I looked out to find the waves out of the NW and about a foot high. They would get bigger I was sure, but I decided to give it a go. I'd turn left from the hand launched boat ramp and travel along the shoreline. If I got blown over at least I'd wash ashore if I came loose from the kayak.

After dropping my kayak on the sand and storing all my gear, I waded out to see if my wetsuit would be enough protection or if I should wear my dry suit. I'm going to put off wearing the dry suit as long as possible. The wetsuit or I should say the Polartec farmer john and jacket, were plenty for me at this water temp. The Potomac, just one day earlier, felt a good 10 degrees colder. Not sure it was that much colder, but it felt that way.

I tethered my paddle to the kayak in anticipation of the winds and pulled the kayak out beyond the small breakers and climbed in. Not many small boats out but the shipping channel appeared pretty busy. Not a day to dodge the large ships. The shore on my left was mostly protected by stone sea walls. It wasn't long the wind picked up and the waves began to grow. At about 2 feet high my progress was really slowed as I would try to paddle faster in between the occasional gusts of wind that would nearly bring me to a halt. A few miles later the waves would occasionally grow to about 3 feet.

There is a big difference between two-foot waves, and those up at three feet. The three footers were more like ocean swells and easier to deal with than the 2 footers. The shorter waves often broke across my kayak while the larger ones passed underneath. I ran across several shallow areas about 300 yards off shore that caused a lot of breaking waves. My borrowed spray skirt was taking on a little water but rather than take the risk of dumping a wave in my kayak, I kept the skirt on and didn't pump out the boat. I missed my electric pump.

At about 4 miles out I found myself directly across from Gibson Island. I figured the lee of the island would provide some protection from the waves so I crossed the channel right at the red and green channel markers. I did have to wait a few minutes at the green marker for several boats to pass, but I then sprinted across in no time at all. I searched the immediate shoreline for a place to land, but it was populated by No Trespassing signs so in the lee of Mountain Point I popped off my skirt and pumped out my kayak. I also took out my GPS and found this measly 4.3 miles had taken me two hours! The wind was indeed slowing me down. As I was playing with the GPS I noticed what appeared to be a few sunken ships on the point sticking above the water.

I paddled North another mile and a half. In the protection of the island, this seemed to only take about 5 minutes, but it really was about 30. Just near Skippers Row I beached to take a look at the other side of the road. It would be possible to carry my yak across the road, but I was now tired and decided against a circumnavigation of the island.

After lunch I paddled out into the bay to catch some wind. It wasn't at all disappointing. The waves were about 2 1/2 feet with an occasional 3 footer. With the wind/waves at my back I slowly got a better feel for the boat. My Guillemot, with my 500 miles on her, was predictable to me. The Gulfstream handled much better, but my lack of experience in her had me more nervous. Eventually though I felt like an old pro and experimented with many different angles to the following seas.

Near the Baltimore Lighthouse I decided to try and catch a wave. I paddled faster and faster until I found myself scooting down a wave face for a short distance. I tried again and again until suddenly I was moving along and *staying* on the wave. I started to wonder how I was going to get off! I looked up to find a powerboat about to cut across my bow so I laid my paddle nearly flat on the water behind me to bleed off speed. The wave then passed under and I was again moving at my normal speed. That was GREAT! But try as I may, I was unable to catch another wave again like that one.

A family in a sailboat crossed my bow. As they approached the dad shouted "One! Two! Three!" at which point they all shouted and gave me the thumbs up. I waved back and focused in on the far shore. It wasn't long and I was pulling in past the fishermen standing on the rocks. I loaded up the boat after getting out just before the short surf line and pulling the boat ashore.

Not the biggest waves I had been in, but just the right height to get the feel of my new boat. I just wish my spray skirt would hurry and get here...

Veteran's Day Paddle on a National Disgrace

Trip #63

12 miles

MAP

Only a few wrong turns getting to Anacostia Park. Once there I almost didn't recognize the boat ramp. One half of it was buried under sticks and plastic soda bottles. The other half of the ramp was clear so I backed my truck down it and unload the boat and gear.

There were several floating barriers in the water and they had managed to collect quite a bit of trash. Quite disgusting looking, but nothing compared to what I was about to encounter. Once on the water and under the Railroad Bridge the water looked like a flooded landfill. You could not paddle without banging into all sorts of floating trash. I had paddled this part of the river last March, and it was dirty then, but not like today. Today there was more trash than there was water and I spent quite some time thinking about just turning around and going home. This is not a weekend project for 20-30 environmental volunteers to clean up, this river is in seriously bad shape. It needs an environmental study to determine the source of the trash so it can be stopped at its source from washing into the river.

After two solid miles of poling through the garbage, it began to let up. It didn't go away, it just got to the point where I no longer felt like contributing to the mess by regurgitating my breakfast. I realized that by the GPS I had missed the entrance to the Kenilworth Aquatic Gardens, so I turned around to find it. I did find a breach in the river wall where my map said should take me back into the gardens, but it didn't go far. So I paddled north again for about a half mile until I came to another breach in the wall. This was the entrance, but it showed as solid land on my GPS.

It was high tide and the water within the garden was shallow. I would caution anyone doing this to do it on a rising tide, as it would be easy to get stranded if the tide is running out. There wasn't much to see from the water, this needs to be explored from shore. So I headed out again into the river and again turned north.

The wind was starting to pick up a little as I continued on under Rt. 50 and could soon see a lot of buildings ahead. The woods dropped away and a marina without any boats appeared on my right. I traveled under 1A and the water became shallow. Where the river branched I took the left fork but soon ran out of water to paddle at Rt. 1 so I turned around to head home. The water here was clearer and it was obvious this water was not tidal up at this point.

The wind started blowing hard and I found myself running at 5-6 MPH for most the way back. The wind had turned cold too. I was wishing I could just beach and walk down to my truck rather than paddle back through the trash. But the further I paddled the less trash I saw in the middle of the river. It was all being blown to the edge and into large trash rafts so thick you could probably walk on them. I stayed to the center of the river to not get caught up in the sights along the shore.

There was some guys messing with their boat back at the ramps, so I had to pull my kayak out over the half that was covered in trash. I loaded up the truck and was glad to call this trip over.

Marumsco Creek

Trip # 64

11.9 miles

MAP

Trevor had posted a message to the CPA list asking if there were any trips planned for Sunday. Of course, I didn't decide where to go till 8:30 p.m. the night before, but I posted back to him letting him know that Joan Spinner and I would be launching from Mason Neck about 8:30 the following morning. I checked the computer before I left the next day for the weather (possible small craft advisory in the afternoon!) and saw a response from Trevor that he would be there.

The recorded history of Mason Neck began around 1755 with the construction of the nearby Gunston Hall, home of George Mason. Mason was the author of the Virginia Bill of Rights, predecessor of the United States Bill of Rights.

During the 1800s and early 1900s, logging was the principle land use of what is now part of the wildlife refuge. Roads were cut and much of the mature pine and hardwood timber removed. This elimination of nest trees severely reduced the area bald eagle population.

By the 1960s, timber had grown back but residential development posed a new threat. Local residents worked with the Nature Conservancy to protect the land. In 1969, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service purchased 845 acres from the Conservancy and the Mason Neck National Wildlife Refuge was established. Today the refuge spans almost 2300 acres.

I breezed through the front gate a few minutes before 8:00am, the official opening time of the park. After unloading the boat Trevor drove up and after introductions we unloaded his CLC Chesapeake 17LT. An absolutely beautiful boat. Joan appeared a little after 8:30 and we were on the water right around 9:00.

I had given Trevor a land overview the best I could from the shore, and before shoving off I suggested we paddle out to Conrad Island to cross the deep water channel. There were not many boats out today but I figured because of a light fog it might be safer to cross the channel at its narrowest point. When we got to the Island there was little or no fog, and in just a few paddle strokes we were across the 50 - 60 foot wide channel.

We now turned south west towards Deephole Point. Both Joan and Trevor mentioned how it was much easier to paddle into the wind. The wind was out of the south west and was blowing pretty good. Having never paddled with Trevor and knowing his skill level I told him to be sure and let us know if the wind/waves made him uncomfortable and we could find another way back. Trevor handled the waves like a pro. The waves never got above about a foot, but they often broke across our boats and were choppy.

I'm having a hard time getting my brain to adjust the skeg properly. My brain wants to drop the skeg based on how big the waves are, where I should drop it down based on how hard the wind is blowing. I keep having to catch myself working too hard at keeping the boat straight in shorter waves, and forcing myself to add more skeg exposure. I'll learn eventually.

Trevor had told me he had not installed a front hatch on his boat because he had heard the boat was prone to have water wash up the front deck. If there was a hatch cover, it would spray water in your face. I could see that was correct as the water often washed partially up his deck before shedding off to the sides.

We rounded Deephole Point and again had the waves coming in from our port side. This trip was short, and we soon found our way into the mouth of Marumsco Creek. We paddled into this marshy creek just a short bit and landed for a leg stretch. I swung around a sharp bend of a sandy little point to land. This back side of the point had just one drawback. It had a sharp drop off. My kayak was leaning against the sand on my right, and I stepped out to the left into waist deep water. Trevor managed to get out and Joan beached on the other side of the point which had a shallow taper into the water.

When we decided to get back on the water, I entered my kayak as if entering from a dock, sliding into the cockpit with the paddle behind my back. It actually worked well! I was surprised and stored that little trick away for my next steep drop off landing.

As we headed back into the marsh, I had a hard time finding the channel. As a matter of fact, I rarely found the channel and ended up paddling over shallow flats. I had been in this creek only once before in July, and the Lilly pads helped mark the channel back then. There was no such help this time for me, but Joan and Trevor seemed to manage much better. At least they knew NOT to follow me.

The ducks, geese and sea gulls filled this marsh to capacity. We had even seen a bald eagle a little earlier. Before long though we were stopped from any further progress by shallow water. Even though we were a mile into the creek, it had seemed like such a short distance I was sure I had gone further into the creek the last time. We turned and started to paddle out and Joan spotted a deer up on the hill as we turned around.

We paddled out of the creek doing a much better job of finding the channel (which means, I followed Joan and Trevor). At the mouth of the creek we headed south across Featherstone Shores and into Farm Creek. This creek is really only passable at high tide and we were entered just at the peak. Again more birds, mostly geese which flushed and scared everything else away. We beached once more for a pit stop and a bite to eat. As we were standing there, the wind changed. Not in direction, but in temperature. It was pretty weird and was if the cold wind was suddenly being blown through a heater. I thought of shedding my Polartec jacket but left it on because of the water temp.

We headed back out towards our launch site, cutting straight across the Occuquan Bay. The wind pushed us along fairly well and I kept looking behind looking for storm clouds. The temperature change was just too weird, and I was surprised we weren't sitting in the middle of a thunderstorm. Near the far side of the bay Joan and I warned Trevor not to get too close to the little point of land that juts out from shore. The deep water channel runs right by there and the waves often grow quickly as they rush up the shallow peninsula. After waiting for some boats to cross by in the channel we crossed ourselves. We did begin to spread out a bit so instead of making a long target in the channel I dropped back with Joan so there would only be two smaller targets. I think we should have discussed staying closer together before attempting the crossing. Not too bad of an error on a slow day like today, but if this were summer we may have had a problem. As the unofficial trip leader this error rested on my shoulders and I made note not to let it happen again. The channel is not well marked and I should have made everyone aware we were crossing it.

Back at the park we loaded up out boats. I helped a guy with a Folbot and sailing rig lift his kayak up onto his car. Four ladies unloaded their kayaks as I finished up lashing down my kayak. I think Joan warned them of the potential small craft advisory. Another great day on the water.

The 600th Mile

Trip #65

6. 3 miles

MAP

It was pure coincidence my 600th mile came during the paddle after the annual CPA meeting. A fitting spot as any I suppose. I don't get to paddle often with the folks out this way, so when I'm out here I view it as a special treat for me to paddle with them.

During the meeting I learned there were 500+ members in CPA. There were 25 or 30 at the meeting. In the events I've attended in the last year, rarely have I seen more than 20 attend. The majority were repeat faces. My thoughts have pondered where the other 400+ paddlers are the last few days.

I almost always ask folks when I see them loading or unloading their boats if they belong to CPA. I've never met another member that way.

The meeting broke up after Joy volunteered me for something. I'm not sure what I agreed to, but I guess I'll figure it out or hope no one else remembers either. Being the socially inept introvert I quickly beat feet for Pier 7 while everyone milled around chatting for a few minutes.

At Pier 7 I unloaded my kayak and carried my stuff down to the water. I put on some new booties. Last week I had stepped on a thorn that went right through the sole of the booties I had. The new soles were thicker and I felt would do a better job of protecting my latex socks on my dry suit. I then walked out almost waist deep to see how cold the water was. Cold, but not horribly so. My suit quickly became comfortable after the initial flood of cold water.

When Greg and Jenny got there and put on their dry suit, I started to second guess if I should put mine on or not. I really don't want to get into that beast any sooner than I have to, so the dry suit stayed in the truck. I guess I should put it on and get used to it. What good is it if I don't wear it?

I think there were 7 or 8 of us that launched from Pier 7. We headed southeast for a few miles. The sun was getting low and I spent most of my time looking across the river on the north side to keep the glare down. When we got directly across the river from Persimmon Point, Brian got us all lined up in parallel to cross the channel. After waiting on a few boats we shot across.

We paddled into Harness creek a short way. I stopped to pull my GPS out and turn it on to measure the trip back, and when I looked up the water games had began! This was the same game played down at the skills workshop at Lake Anna. Now I really regretted not having my dry suit on. I was wearing the Polartec suit and knew if I started to play I would get dunked, and I had no desire to drive home an hour and a half wet.

Greg and Jenny had these cool little fuzzy rubber (?) caps that Velcro'd under the chin. The nice thing is that after rolling they could unfasten the chin portion and push it up out of the way, but still wear it like a hat. It sure looked a lot more comfortable than my neoprene hood. Jenny didn't seem to have any problems with water getting in by her glasses, which is a big plus for me.

After play time was over we paddled back along the north shore, crossing back over just before the marina. The sun was lower still and it got dark about the same time I drove off for home.

600 miles. Wow. Seems like a lot to me. At the same time, I don't think I have 600 miles worth of experience. I think I should be further along in my skills development since I see little difference in how I paddle and how someone with 3 months experience paddles. Yet I see a whole ocean of difference between myself and the more skilled paddlers of CPA. Next season I may spend more time stretching my limits. Maybe I'll spend more time *in* the water and trying to get more comfortable with wearing the kayak. Right now I feel like I've come up to a wall and my skills progression has halted and I'm not sure what it is going to take to break through...

Woody

Skills Practice

Trip #66

0 miles

I was only out for a few hours today, but I feel as tired as if on an all day expedition. My skills have been stagnating and I needed to focus on just skill building and put the mile counter away for a while. So after putting some new fan belts on my truck, I headed off for Leeslyvania State Park. There was a chance of afternoon small craft advisory which should kick up some excitement. The waves wouldn't get large, maybe a foot and a half at its peak.

Hopefully this would be enough to toss in some instability to my practice without becoming dangerous. I would be out there alone today, but staying one hundred yards or so offshore. After carrying the kayak and "stuff" down to the water, I made one last trip to the truck to put on my dry suit.

Rather than recount things the way I normally do in my trip reports, I think I'll arrange this one in a "lessons learned" format. Here goes:

1) When walking the boat out past the six - twelve inch waves that were breaking on shore, NEVER allow your fingers to wrap around the coaming lip and the outer portion of the kayak (the part of the lip the sprayskirt wraps around). I've got a nice purple bruise building between the base of one fingernail and the first knuckle from where my fingers got locked into that area just as a wave tried to pick up me and the kayak.

2) Even with my neoprene hood on and my dry suit, taking that first dunking is a big step. But once I've gone under and come back up, subsequent dunkings are not nearly as dreaded.

3) Big lesson for the day: I was too chicken to try the balanced brace without a spotter. The hand/arm/paddle positioning seemed too awkward to try alone. Greg Stamer had sent me a link to a page by Brian Day that showed the different types of Greenland bracing. On this page was also a sculling brace and the statement "If you do it right, your boat will remain on its side while you are sculling. If you do it wrong, the boat will flop upside-down, driving your body toward the bottom and spoiling the brace. "

http://www.paddlers.com/references/refgreenland.htm

I found this interesting since I always tried sculling where my body was arched like a 'J' away from the water. As I continued to lower myself towards the water I would reach the point of no return and the boat would drive me under. Today I tried to drive my upper body into the water first, while trying to keep my kayak upright. I'll be danged if that didn't work. I soon found myself floating in the water face up with an extended paddle sculling to keep me at the surface. Of course, this worked only on the side that I have an on-side roll. I really need to work on the offside roll...

This also seemed to work in the 1 to 1.5 foot waves as the boat and I just slid over them while on my side. With an extended paddle my sculling was slower. With hands in normal paddling position the sculling motion was much more rapid. As the day progressed it took less and less effort to keep me on the surface, but it was still tiring and I could only manage it for a minute or two.

I found I could right myself either with a hip snap, or allow the boat to finish going over and set up for a roll.

4) I spent some time with bracing in an upright position. I find it difficult to do a low brace with a Greenland paddle. A high brace works better, but I had to train myself to open the hand on the side away from the brace to let the paddle pivot to where the blade was flat on the water. I could then turn the brace into a scull. I seemed to be able to do this on both sides fairly well, but a lot more practice is needed to make this an automatic reaction.

5) My second, third, and fourth wave surfing lessons came today. Man what fun! I got into several sets of big waves as I paddled hard to get up to speed. Before I knew it I was racing down the face of a wave, faster than the wave itself. Each time my bow would catch up and literally submerge into the back side of the wave in front of me. It felt as if the bow was being sucked under and after the front hatch would disappear under the wave the kayak would slow down and pop back to the surface. Cool. Once up to speed I did feel unstable as I tried to lean one way and then another to try and stay perpendicular to the wave. I should have capsized at this point on purpose just to try and work through this nervousness.

6) My glasses fogged immediately each time I rolled up out of the water. The wind was warm and thick with moisture and the difference in temperature between the Potomac and air was drastic. I stopped on the way home back at Auto Zone where I picked up my fan belts and bought some RainX anti-fog stuff (only $2 for a big bottle). You're not supposed to use it on plastic, but it didn't seem to hurt my Military issue BC sunglasses. I'll follow up and post how well it works.

7) I kept my nose clips on the entire time I was practicing today. It adds a lot to my sense of security knowing I won't have to deal with the water in my sinuses. On the other hand, I found I sometimes got winded, and the tight fit of my dry suit neck would invoke a gag reflex. The suit doesn't feel all that tight in the neck, but just the thought that something is pressing against it all the time is something I will have to get accustomed to. When this happened I found that removing the nose clips helped my sanity (and breathing) return to normal.

Not sure what is in store for tomorrow. There is a paddle up in the Baltimore Harbor, but a bit late in the morning for this early bird. I may run up there early and paddle it anyway. I'd like to practice some more but my shoulder is feeling the strain of today. Need to stay away from the deer hunters tomorrow though...

Baltimore Harbor

Trip #67

12.6 miles

MAP

John was putting on a trip to Baltimore Harbor. The idea appealed to me, but they wouldn't arrive till 10:00 am. I like to do the bulk of my paddling in the early morning before the boaters awake so I decided to go at it alone.

I arrived at the harbor about 8:00 and started to unload the yak. I started to take a last minute bathroom break, but finding a man asleep on the floor in a sleeping bag, I decided not to disturb him. A man got out of some sort of commercial truck and said "If I had my kayak, I'd go with you." We chatted for a while and I noticed he walked with a strong limp. He told me he did most of his paddling in the harbor at night. Going out after dark and paddling for five or six hours. He told me about the harbor and places not to go near.

As we chatted a man in a home built dory unloaded and launched. I watched him row out into the channel and stop for a while. The boat seemed fast. The man with the limp mentioned he wanted to buy a dory and do away with his kayak because he had no hips. Out in the water I saw a small craft with a big screen cage looking device on the front. I asked the limping man what it was and he told me it picked up trash from the water. He told me to stay away from the storm drains as the rain the night before had flushed a lot of trash into the harbor and these little boats would be scooping it up.

I launched into the water and turned right, heading for the inner harbor. I turned on my vhf radio and set it to scan some preset channels. Most of the chatter this morning was between the fishermen trying to find the fish.

The wind was blowing pretty good, but there were only tiny waves. This trip out I got a good handle on adjusting the skeg to the wind since there were no waves to sway my judgement. Along my right there were lots of docks with many boats tied up behind them in several marinas. I was glad the weather has turned cold enough there aren't many boaters on the water any more. If this were summer, this is one place I would not want to paddle.

I saw some docks that from a distance looked like they had taken a beating over the years. As I got closer I could see they were charred from a fire. An old railroad building had burned with the dock. I pass Fells Point on my right. Between 1730 and 1763 the shipbuilding industry grew wildly as did wharves, warehouses, saloons, dance halls, and flop houses for the sailors (A recent local history speculates that this "notorious hook of land" may have been the origin of the term "hooker").

Again on the right is a large, cream-colored older building with a big sign proclaiming it to be the "City Pier." This pier is currently home base and precinct house for the TV series "Homicide: Life on the Street."

After passing a few more piers I came to the frigate USS Constellation. A tall wooden sailing ship armed to the brim with cannons and sister ship to the USS Constitution. Beside her was the Pride of Baltimore II, a long narrow sailing vessel. Not far away is the submarine Torsk, the last US sub to leave the Pacific after World War II.

After looking the ships over I turned and headed back. I crossed over to the far side past the Domino sugar plant and headed around Fort McHenry, the birthplace to our national anthem. I circled around and paddled up to Winans Cove before deciding to turn around and head back. With the wind at my back I made it to the fort in no time, and chose to cross the channel at the red and green bouys. Back at the launch site I ate lunch and seeing no signs of the late morning kayak group except for their empty cars, I got back on the water to go find them.

Earlier in the morning I had been listening to the tug boat operators get ready to push a ship out to the bay. I finally figured out which ship they were talking about as it started moving out of the slip to the left of the launch site. I also knew from listening they would be bringing in another ship to replace it before long.

I paddled back towards the inner harbor but about the time I got even with the Domino plant I saw tiny kayaks on the far side. I cut across the channel but I was far behind and didn't catch them until they had started back across to the launch site. John was paddling a double with only himself in it. It looked like a chore to paddle since the front end was out of the water. An Atlantis was keeping him company and out front I could see Joan's red boat and 'Team Titanic.'

Back on shore we chatted for a bit and a big red ship started coming in under the command of two big tug boats. They were backing it into the slip that was just vacated. I loaded up and headed home, passing the 'landward' side of the slip as the tugs were pushing the ship firmly against the dock.

Keeping cool - Today had been an easy pace. I had worn my dry suit and also a neoprene hood until the sun came out in full force. I took the hood off to cool off and occasionally trolled my hands in the water as well. I never felt too warm and I became used to the constriction around my neck from the dry suit. The water was too nasty for me to roll to stay cool. The air had the slight stench of rotten eggs. Not real strong, but enough to notice.

I felt stable and more confident today. Maybe because of the skills practice from the day before. I also found getting in and out of the kayak harder with the dry suit on as it is a bit snug and makes me feel even fatter. At one point in the trip I had some bunched up clothes at my waist that I thought would cut me in half until I wiggled enough to flatten them out.

Greenland sculling brace

Trip #68

6 miles

I didn't get up early, about 7:00am. I was on the water about 8:30, which is pretty late for me. Leesylvania State Park is where I ended up today for some more skills practice. It was near low tide so I paddled out a few hundred yards to get out far enough my paddle wouldn't hit bottom. I put on my neoprene hood and set up to roll.

The pain was almost immediate. As my head went under water my eyes began to hurt and it quickly started to spread inward toward the center of my brain. The water had gotten colder during the week and was now cold enough to cause me an instant ice cream headache.

I rolled back up and sat there with my eyes closed, hoping they would quickly warm up. After a few seconds the pain had gone and I sat there pondering if I wanted to go through with today's practice. I decided to go for it, but spend the bulk of my time practicing a Greenland sculling brace.

Over again, but this time not all the way. Chuck Sutherland had called me during the week and given me some things to try. I managed to scull for a few seconds but my paddle was slowly loosing ground and sinking towards the bottom. I gave in and allowed the boat to rotate me under water and I set up to roll back up. The headache was instantly back and I quickly popped to the surface. Again I waited for my eyes to warm up before doing anything else.

When my eyes were ready, I tipped again, this time allowing for a steeper blade angle. My paddle climbed to the top of the water and stayed there. The sweep speed, mostly because of the steep blade angle, was quite slow. My back was arched towards the water and the back deck as much as possible. I laid there slowly sculling and looking at the sky. When it came time to get back up, it was almost as simple as moving my back onto the rear deck of the kayak and sitting up.

Sure, it SOUNDS easy, but it still was a significant effort on my part and after about 30-40 minutes of practice I was tired and feeling a little unstable when upright. I decided to call off practice before I got too tired and paddled to [it's a secret] creek. I had been in this creek before but had never found the channel to explore it far. Now at low tide, I decided to give it another shot.

Down the left hand side of the creek since I knew there was deep water for a little ways. Being low tide I could now easily make out the channel and found it when it made a hard right hand turn and headed north across the marsh. Normally, this marsh would be under a foot or so of water and difficult to find the channel, but today it was obvious. The channel turned again, this time to the west and I followed along deeper and deeper. I had seen this marsh from the road, but never seen a channel through it. But at the moment, sitting here in the kayak I wondered how I could have missed it.

Geese, sea gulls, ducks and red winged black birds were filling this marsh. I passed a few hunting blinds, but luckily they were empty. I paddled further until I could hear the sound of rushing water. The water was coming down what looked to be concrete stairs leading back up to some sort of water treatment facility. At least I'm guessing that is what it was, but I didn't see any big tanks and the water didn't smell.

I decided to float up to where the water was coming into the creek. This little "bay" was about twice the size of my kayak and the wind was gently pushing me in that direction.

Then I saw a bass. Not a big one, but a large mouth bass none the less. He ran out of the little bay and under my kayak back towards the creek. The I saw another, and another, and then 15 to 20 more! Most were small, but there were a few that would run a good 4-6 pounds. They were all trapped between me and the bay and their only escape was to swim directly under me as the wind kept pushing me in their direction.

This wasn't the last of them. The bass were getting generally bigger and now I was seeing some big goldfish also (Coy?). Some were solid orange, some were brown and orange, and some were just brown. These were fairly good size fish also, maybe going a few pounds. Then I saw some I didn't recognize. Kind of dark and spotted, and taller and narrower than pan fish. Maybe crappie, but REAL BIG ones if they were. I saw a few pan fish and several more waves of bass.

In all, in a space of about 30 feet, I had seen well over 100 fish. They were enjoying the warm runoff from the plant up the hill. As I backed out of the little cove I could see the fish working their way back in. Being a fisherman myself, I was mainly interested in the size of the bass, and saw several that would probably push 5-6 pounds. Not lunkers, but really nice size fish.

I paddled up the creek a short way to where it split. I followed one branch and then another until they got too small to turn around so I backed out. On the return trip I just had to check out the fish again. Man, that was a lot of fish in such a small area. The smallest was at least as long as my hand. I saw some swimming further out in the creek this time too.

I paddled back to the park and again practiced a sculling brace on my side. Bit by bit it is getting better and requiring less effort to keep me above water. I found I could go from a completely inverted position, scull up to where my face was above water, then simply rotate up the rest of the way. Cool (in more ways than one).

I paddled to shore to pack up and go home. I wondered to myself if a face mask would help during these practice sessions to keep my eyes from getting cold (and hurting). My eyeglasses are going to be a big hindrance in keeping water away from my eyes...

Eagle Watching

Trip #69

8.5 miles

MAP

Some pictures are priceless. If I had a camera with me, I could have snapped one of those pictures today.

Bill and Phil put together a trip for today out of Ft Belvoir. This was an eagle sight seeing trip as they have had good luck seeing eagles in this area.

I was first one at the launch site and I was just debating on whether or not to do some rolling practice when the others started showing up. Let me see if I can get the names right: Alice, Trevor, Greg, Jenny, Mark, Phil, Bill, and myself. I think I got them correct. Greg suited up and got on the water first and started rolling and sculling. This of course caused me to have to go out too.

While giving me some pointers I saw Jenny lean ALL the way back on her rear deck. I told Greg if I could do that it would be much easier to do these rolls. Then Greg did it too. I made up an excuse that my rear coaming was too high and Greg told me to take my butt out of the seat. What? "Brace against your foot pegs and lift your butt out of the seat and lay on the back deck."

Well, it worked, and took away one of my few remaining excuses for poor rolling and Greenland sculling. I need all the excuses I can get. Actually they were working even better today than yesterday. The water also did not cause the ice cream headache like it did yesterday. The water felt warmer, but still pretty cold.

We headed southeast along the shore. As the self proclaimed slowest paddler of the group, I took lead. I have to admit, I was a bit worried about being too slow. The dry suit, spending time rolling before we paddled and a neck seal that allowed me to only turn about 1/3 the way around to look back made me wonder if I'd be able to keep up a pace that everyone could tolerate as not being too slow.

As we paddled, I would veer every once in a while to scoop up some odd shaped debris floating in the water. These were large snail shells. I could have sworn when I picked them up that there was a snail, or at least part of a snail, inside. But when I got home I found them to be empty. Of course, I guess they could be in the cab of my truck. I should know in just a day or two...

We paused only to look at eagles and to get a drink. At first I stayed near shore, inside a long debris line a few hundred yards off shore. But the debris field got closer and closer to shore so I swerved out to take an outside track. This proved to be a good move since I now had a much better view of the high bank along the left side and could see several eagles flying around.

We had looped around and were now headed northwest into Dogue Creek. The creek at its mouth was wide, but also shallow. The channel through the center was narrow. The creek squeezed down to be small, and just when I thought it was becoming unnavigable a small marina popped up on the left. We paddled on crossing under 2 bridges before the creek became blocked right by the replica of Washington's grist mill. As a farmer, George Washington operated this grist mill on Dogue Run. There he ground wheat and corn into flour and meal. After years of use and different owners, the mill fell into ruin. In the 1930s the mill was rebuilt with materials and machinery from a similar mill of the period.

We turned around and headed out. When the creek widened we found a nice juicy muddy spot to pull over and have lunch. After lunch the wind had picked up and was starting to kick up some waves. At one point I notice Alice stopped paddling to get a drink as was getting blown backwards about as fast as we were paddling forward. At some point we passed a bunch of Navy troop transports of some type. Maybe 8 or 10. They made an effective sea wall as the waves reflecting off of them were causing quite a stir. We managed to make it through unscathed, and a few (all?) folks went out and surfed a few waves.

We made it back and I rolled a few times to test my ability after the paddle. When we stopped for lunch I had noticed the GPS had lost track of the satellites. When we beached it read that we had traveled 8.5 miles, but part of the track did not log and after filling in the gaps I found it to be 9.4 miles.

Jenny showed me a balanced brace. That is pretty cool. Maybe I'll eventually work up to that after I get my spine replaced by a double jointed one.

After beaching I tried to give Trevor some rolling instruction. I have to say I'm a better student than a teacher as I just managed to get him wet. Oh well, if nothing else I think I turned him into a pool session convert... Greg sailed off in his kayak just as the wind was dying down.

As we loaded up a lady pulled up in a SUV and pulled her kayak out of the inside. I heard her mention that she was going to be showing some new people the ropes about kayaking. I tried to tell if she was wearing a wet suit or just long biking pants but I never could tell. Her crew showed up - two Swifty kayaks and one kayak a bit larger. The Swifty's were flat on the bottom, and powered by a teenager and grandma, while the larger kayak looked to be a big young adult maybe in his twenties.

There wasn't a sprayskirt among them, and I was concerned since we had just come through some fairly big waves. There was no flotation in the kayaks. The three "newbies" were all wearing cotton, with the big guy wearing shorts. The person there to teach the newbies had paddled off before everyone else got into their kayaks and paddled out a couple hundred yards while the rest hurried to catch up. The two swifty drivers wore PFDs and jumped in their kayak on shore and pushed their way off the sand (didn't want to get their tennis shoes wet). The guy in the larger kayak attempted to put his on, then for some reason gave up and strapped it firmly to his rear hatch. I saw him tug it several times to make sure it wouldn't come loose.

This brings me to the priceless picture. I so much wish I had a camera with me today. I think I would have asked the four kayakers to pose for a picture. Then we could have done a "What's wrong with this photo" contest to see who could find all the things wrong. I found it disconcerting I didn't have the courage to speak up and found it hard to drive away after they had left. Even now as I sit here and type this I wonder if they made it back...

Kayak Fishing

Trip #70

6 miles

Well, I thought I'd go back to the spot with all the fish and try my hand at kayak fishing. A while back I wanted to try, but a small craft advisory beckoned me out into the rough water to play. As I listened to the wind howl last night, I teetered between going fishing and going out to Sandy Point to play in the waves.

After getting up I thought about not going anywhere at all and tried to go back to sleep. But there was no way so I headed off for Leesylvania to fish. I stowed my tackle box inside my cockpit between my feet up by the foot pegs. The wind didn't appear strong, but as I headed out into the water and turned up Neabsco creek, the wind picked up considerably. I had forgotten the beach on the park is pretty protected from northeast winds and makes a good sheltered place to piddle around. The creek on the other hand was pretty windy, and I hugged the shore to take advantage of the natural buffer provided by the high shore.

I paddled the 3 miles up the creek through muddy water (it had rained the day before) and found almost no fish in the 'spot'. But I tried to fish anyhow and managed to catch two small throwbacks.

It was windy and difficult to hold position. I could stow my paddle fairly easily, but in a kayak there are about a billion things a hook can catch on. I was worried mostly about my dry suit, but deck lines and my sprayskirt seemed to be the hook magnets. I also found that in my cockpit between my feet is not the place to stow the tackle box. I had to hoist one leg out of the cockpit to get at my lures, so the box rode between my legs for the ride back.

Deciding to try again another day I headed back towards the park. A tugboat was docking a barge at the marina. I passed a hundred feet or so behind the tug and encountered quite a chop and muddy water. A large paddlewheel boat was docked in the marina.

Off shore of the park I practiced my newly learned Greenland brace several times. I had a headache when I launched this morning, and the cold water was making it worse, so I headed for home.

Pomonkey Creek

Trip #71

Dec 12, 1999

15.1 miles

MAP

Water Temp: 46 degrees

Early as usual I had my kayak packed and my dry suit on, and was sitting on my tail gate just waiting...and waiting...and waiting. A guy strolling the shore said, "Bit too cold fer that, ain't it?" I told him it was just the way I like it - no boats.

Joan and Mardi rolled in and I pulled my dry suit all the way on and parked my truck. I headed into the water while they got ready. Before long we were underway across Gunston Cove and over to Gunston Manor. We headed further south to a beach next to a nice house. The spiral staircase wrapped around the giant Christmas tree in the front window. While stretching Mardi noticed an eagle sitting in the tree by the shore eating something.

After a few minutes the eagle flew off, and so did we. After I fiddled with my map compass for a while I just looked across the river and said "We're going over there."

So "over there" we headed. No boats in sight except for one barge that came by long after we crossed the channel. Pomonkey creek looked to be a bay with a tiny creek entrance in the rear. Great. The creek looked like it would be too small to explore. But in the back of the bay, after passing through a narrow gap, the creek opened back up.

We paddled further into the creek as some guys motored up to a duck blind with their dogs. No need to worry since today is Sunday and there isn't any hunting on Sunday.

Once beyond the hunters we worked our way slowly forward. The creek was filled with ducks and other waterfowl. White swans were even there. We probably flushed several hundred birds as we moved through slowly. Mardi and Joan knew the names of them all, but the swans and mallards were all that I could name.

We got into some mud and it made forward progress difficult. I was about to give up when I saw another duck blind further up the creek. There must be a channel. I pushed on and had to pull myself through the mud. I finally broke through to a channel. Mardi followed and Joan behind her. Luckily, I said, it was already low tide and if we had gotten stuck we would have shortly floated off.

A shot rang out. Isn't there no hunting on Sunday?

Now firmly in the channel, we continued north, flushing birds at every turn. The creek continued to narrow and we passed several more duck blinds before we found we could go no further. We turned around and after a short distance we stopped for lunch.

Mardi was going to get in the water in her wet suit when we returned, so our chat turned to self-rescues in cold water. Mardi said she expected a self-rescue to take 10 minutes, which I was surprised about. I've never timed myself, but I didn't think it would take anywhere near 10 minutes. But 10 minutes served as a good reference point for Mardi to see if she could stand the water for that long.

We head back after lunch. While passing the place where we had gotten stuck in the mud, we noticed that area was now six inches above water. It hadn't been low tide when we came through, but high tide! The good news was that the channel was now obvious, and we had little trouble getting out. We crossed the Potomac again and beached beside the nice house for our last rest break.

The final leg of the trip seemed to take forever. The sun was getting low on the horizon and the grey building on the far side we were heading for just didn't seem to get any closer. We eventually made it back, just in time since I was pretty tired. I tried a few Greenland braces to see just how tired and I managed to get back up each time.

Joan and Mardi loaded up their stuff and then got ready for Mardi's grand entry into the water. I wish I had a video camera for this part. Joan warmed up the Jeep and then tethered Mardi to a line so we could haul her out if needed.

Mardi and Joan inched into the water while I became the official timekeeper. At about 6 minutes Mardi had made it out a little past her waist and finally floated with her hands tucked in her PFD. It looked and sounded quite painful, but Mardi insisted on staying the full 10 minutes. Joan made note that Mardi was staying quite still and not flushing water around as if trying to get back in her boat.

After getting out Mardi changed into some dry clothes and we finished loading up for the trip home.

Racing Dusk

Trip #72

20.7 Miles

MAP

Water temp: 44 degrees

I could have given this trip many titles. "The 20 miler", "Injury on the water", "Stuck in Mud - Round 2", any of the several things I thought about on the last 3 mile leg of the journey.

I was supposed to launch at 7:45. But after getting delayed looking for (and not finding) my GPS battery cable, I didn't get to the park till about 7:25. I would later find the cable before getting on the water, so plotting the on-water distance was still a go. After spending some time trying to find an open bathroom at Leesylvania State Park, I managed to pull away from shore about 8:05. Before leaving, a park ranger out walking his dog and myself had a discussion about kayaks as I was putting the final touches on my packing. "Staying close to shore?", he said. "Nope, crossing the river." "What, about 2 miles of open water?" "Right around three", I returned. "Choppy out there." "Yup, just the way I like it."

"Just be careful since it is much bigger out there in the middle"

I had some time to make up in order to get to General Smallwood State Park before 9:15, my agreed upon time to meet Joan and Mardi. After getting up to speed I flipped my paddle over to use the flat side as the power face and dug in. Having to work hard as the wind was kicking up some one foot waves that kept slapping me broadside, and I wasn't sure how long it would take to cover the four miles to Gen. Smallwood Park. An empty barge passed a few miles in front of me, and I noticed as I finally entered the channel that he made a left turn and headed in towards the Occoquan.

Except for a few fishing boats entering and exiting Mattawoman creek, the barge would be the only boat I would see for a while. As I rounded the tip of Indian Head and headed for the park, I could see Joan's red boat sitting on the ground, and her white Jeep. I beached at about 9:10, with a whole five minutes to spare. Just in time as my shoulder was beginning to ache from the hard paddling.

I'm not sure why, but it takes these two forever to load up and get underway, so even with them getting there early, we didn't get on the water until a few minutes before 10:00. I mentioned to Joan and Mardi that I needed to turn around where ever we were at noon, in order to make sure I got back to Leesylvania and loaded up before dusk. I had never done a 20 mile trip before, and thought I may be reduced down to just poking along after a while.

Joan was trying a new boat - a fiberglass Dagger Meridian. The skeg cable had been damaged so it had been removed awaiting a new one, but Joan was trying it out for fit and function on this trip.

We paddled hard into the wind. The last time I was here was my birthday and I thought I recalled we would end up out of the wind and behind some trees after about a mile. Four miles later we were close.

As we got to the end of the Indian Head explosives area, I mentioned to Joan that it seemed like the last time I was here I had to make a sharp left turn. This big bay looked deep enough though so we tried to cut across it. Before long we were in thick mud. At times I could look down and see as my kayak pushed through it would push the mud above the water. This is the second time in just a week that I've managed to get us stuck in a mud field. We each took separate routes out but I started following Mardi towards what appeared to be a channel. After what seemed forever we broke through and we paddled back down the creek to wait for Joan, who was taking a different route.

Once Joan was free, we headed up the creek again, stopping to stretch our legs at Indian Head City Park. We then paddled another two miles until we finally started seeing some birds. I had suggested this trip as a potential birding trip and we had seen few up until this point. But in the last half-mile of our journey we finally started seeing birds of significant quantity. We even spotted an eagle staying low near the water and out of the high trees.

After turning around to head back, I noticed it was a half-hour beyond my 'must turn around' time. Mardi also mentioned she had pulled a muscle polling through the mud and would have to paddle back at a slower pace. We took it easy to within a mile of the City Park and stopped for a quick lunch.

A couple had stopped as well, and had built a fire to cook pepperoni on. We gratefully shared their fire and warmed our hands as we ate lunch. It was colder on shore than in the boats so we hurried up and got back on the water.

This looks like a good point in the story to talk (again) about cold hands. I was wearing some polartec look alike type of gloves with a synthetic liner inside. These gloves soaked up a lot of water and I found my hands became cold shortly after I would make a fist to squeeze out any water. I surmised that squeezing out the water only made room for fresh, colder water. On shore I again squeezed out the excess water and found my hands got cold after a few minutes. I'm not sure what this means, but it is a noteworthy observation.

As we paddled slowly towards the City Park, Mardi insisted Joan and I paddle on so I wouldn't be caught in the dark. Joan and I decided that Joan would paddle with Mardi since she was injured, and I would head back on my own. I would paddle the next 9 miles without stopping.

As I got near General Smallwood State Park, I tried to decide if I should pull in for a short break before crossing the Potomac. Since Smallwood was a half-mile out of the way, I decided to press on. The sun was sinking and Leesylvania closes at dusk. So here I was, me and the kayak, against the impending onset of darkness. I was equipped with lights so there were no worries there, but I didn't want to have to go explain to the park ranger why he needed to open the gate to let me out. Or worse, I could be reported missing. If it looked like I wouldn't make it I would dig out my cell phone and have my wife call the park to fill them in. At this point, the only thing I was sure of is that at some point it would get dark.

I paddled the one-mile out to the tip of Indian Head. There were now three miles between Leesylvania and me. Time hack - Good, I had enough time to get back before sunset. But on such a gloomy overcast day, would dusk come before sunset? I would later discover that parts of my trip up to this point had exceeded 8 miles per hour. Attribute this to a strong tailwind, and not any burst of strength.

The wind was now coming in from my right side, along with the waves. The one-foot wave forecast was a bit low. Waves were often a foot and a half. No big deal, I had dealt with worse. Just in case, I stopped to put on my neoprene hood. Until I had started my dedicated skills practice a few weeks ago, this stuff made me nervous. But today I was confident and well within my skill set.

Before making it out to the tip of Indian Head, I had heard a barge and tug on the radio winding their way through parts unknown. I heard them talk about clearing channel markers with less than eight feet to spare and the wind trying to blow the barge sideways. Now I could see the barge as it followed the narrow channel to the south of Mason Neck. The channel runs east-west at that point and once getting into the main part of the Potomac the barge would turn and head my way.

Should I venture out into the channel? Should I stay and let it pass? If I stayed would this delay me from making it to the park before dark? Should I go for it and radio the barge to let them know I was there?

I decided to power hard across the channel. If the barge entered the main channel on the Potomac before I got across I would radio them as to my location. I kept my eye constantly on the barge as I crossed and since the waves were coming from this side it helped me maintain my balance by watching this side.

The barge was moving slower than I had anticipated, and I easily made it beyond the green buoy before the barge swung into the main channel. It would be smooth sailing from now till shore. There was 20 miles in my muscles, although it felt like more because of the need to push hard about thirteen of those miles. But I would win the race against dusk this time.

I wonder, as I was loading up my kayak, if anyone tried to guess why I had that grin on my face? I had battled challenging conditions, fought off shoulder pain and made record speed. I was prepared for what I faced and took each minor challenge in stride. I had finally recognized that my abilities had far exceeded what I was capable of just one short year ago. I hadn't paddled in gale force winds or monstrous waves, but I had faced some challenges that only two or three weeks ago would have made me nervous. The dedicated skills practice was paying off. Near the end of my first year I had finally completed my first twenty-mile paddle.

My thoughts turned to Joan and Mardi. How well had they faired? I was wishing I had launched from the same place as they so I could have stayed with them for the trip back.

Next Sunday, if things work out, I'll make my last trip for the year. I don't have anything special planned. A simple five mile retrace of my first trip a year ago. I'll finish the year with about 680 miles under my belt. I've been lucky this year being able to get out as much as I have. But I've learned that it is quality, not quantity that matters. My second year's pace will be somewhat slowed in comparison as I carefully choose those conditions which extend my abilities.

The end (of year one)

Trip #73

Water Temp: 36 degrees f

'Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except me.

It was supposed to end the way it began. A short 5-mile paddle from Leesylvania State Park to retrace the path of my maiden voyage. Things never go the way I plan, and as I unloaded the kayak I realized conditions are not in my favor. My path would take me north, with the wind. This would mean a long and hard paddle against the wind on the way back. As I launched through the small but persistent waves crashing on the beach, I knew it would be too difficult and I would have to change my plans for my final paddle of the year. A little surfing and bracing practice and I'm ready to go home. The wind is biting through three layers of gloves. This is not how it was supposed to end. I try to beach and capsize as I'm getting out of the kayak. My kayak now filled with water and sand. It is time to go home.

When I decided to journalize my first year kayaking, I never gave much thought to how much real work this would take. As I look back I'm glad I did it. I'm just as glad it's over. Journalizing has allowed me to "re-live" many of the trips again, and recall events that would have surely been forgotten in the recesses of my brain. But it takes a lot of time to put experiences to paper.

I remember my first trip well. Going in circles and hoping no one would see. Being in water too cold to survive for any length of time if I had capsized. Barely getting my kayak back on my truck after paddling just 5 miles. So proud of the wood strip kayak I had built.

I remember my first open water crossing. Middle of February in water still too cold for my attire. More than a bit nervous as I crossed 3 miles of open water. Happy enough to have made it across alive.

I certainly recall the first time I paddled with another human being. The first trip of many with my new friend Joan. The first trip with a rudder on my wood kayak. Not finding the Island we had set off to find.

I think of the homeless in their shanties along the Anacostia River. Meeting Mardi and enjoying her enthusiasm for the wild. I'll never forget taking my kids for their first paddle. Or them asking later "Dad, can I go kayaking with you tomorrow?" Seeing the wooden ship graveyard at Mallows Bay or struggling in my attempts to learn how to roll. The baby ducks and geese as they hatched in the spring.

I remember with great appreciation my first CPA trip and Greg Welker giving me the help I needed to finally accomplish my roll. Bill Dodge and his love of local history. I remember this trip as the first time I became concerned about the wellbeing of another kayaker, and suddenly appreciated the strengths, knowledge, and support of a group.

I try to forget that time out in the Chesapeake where I was out beyond what my skill level should have allowed. But remember the experience I gained and the extension of my abilities. I recollect a second trip with the poise of a more experienced paddler. I remember going out with a brand new kayaker on his first trip and having the confidence I could get him back in his boat when he capsized. I remember the awesome display of fireworks from the cockpit of my kayak.

How could I possibly forget that magical first ocean paddle, and paddling with dolphins? And the day when I paddled the boat that would replace my wood kayak? My first moonlight paddle, my 500th mile?

I recall each smiling face and the enjoyable personas of everyone I've met. The outstanding fellowship and skills workshop of the warm waters of Lake Anna during the fall color change. The big city harbor, working on skills and improving my abilities. The multitude and diversity of online advice.

Experiencing majestic eagles flying along the bluffs with seven other people near my side. The quiet deafening of rain. The trepidation in every trip. The solitude and inner reflection of paddling alone.

These are some of the things I remember from my first year of kayaking. The recorded beginning of my newest journey. As I enter year two, I won't continue to write about every trip, but I will write about the special ones.

To those who sit where I sat a year ago, my advice is "just do it", but learn to do it safely. Journalize this special time so you can look back on it as I have today. And share those adventures to encourage the ones that follow you. To those who have already traveled down my road, I say "Thanks for teaching me and getting me here in one piece."

As I put the final words to this first year, I can't help feeling a little sad that it is over. I find it hard to stop typing, knowing that when I sign my name it is officially complete. Like growing older it happened all too quickly.

Peace,