My First

It rained the entire trip to Leesylvania. But by the time I arrived it was just the occasional drip. Overcast with just the hint of a fog. The car top launch was closed, so I headed to the boat ramp and got a parking space up front.

A short paddle today, but my first for the year. Heading north to Farm Creek the water was glass smooth and felt a little thick. The kayak moved sluggishly through the water.

It was a short trip into the creek. The water was down so low that it was impossible to go beyond the pilings that cross the creek a short distance back.

After turning back out of the creek we headed to Freestone Point and explored the rocks up close. Many were undercut and appeared to be balanced on end on a pedestal. I'm often amazed at the interesting detail along the shore when we just stop and look. Just around the point a red fox scampered his way across the rocks and back in to the trees. The first time I've seen one here although I've heard others talk about them.

The paddle back to the launch was quiet and peaceful. Eating lunch by the water as the sun came out and colored my face a light pink. It was good to be on the water again...

Woody

Up River

The song birds now wake me up each morning. As my eyes adjust from the sleep I look through my bedroom doorway past my living room and out at the lake. I smile.

Although I have been here for a month and a half, I haven't had a chance to get out on the lake to paddle with the exception of a short down river run to the dam, but I was looking forward to an up stream paddle as the dwellings appeared to thin out in that direction.

The 'lake' as it is called, is really the Occoquan Creek that has had it's flow interrupted by a dam a few miles down stream from where I live. But it has no resemblance to a lake at all as it twists and winds its way through Prince William County never getting more than a few dozen paddle strokes across.

The work day dragged on Friday as I waited for the time to pass so I could take my first adventure upstream. But once home it seemed like moments before I was changed and stepping in the mud to get in my kayak.

I backed away from shore and drew a deep breath. It felt good - the sunshine on my arms and face. It was at this moment I threw off the chill of winter and felt like I was truly embedded in spring.

There was a slight current heading upstream from the recent heavy rains. I could feel my right shoulder complain of the lack of paddling over the last several months.

Before long the houses fell away and I was alone on the creek. Paddling around each bend and feeling the slight breeze hit me from different angles. I passed ducks and geese, and even was entertained for a few minutes by a beaver making his way away from me.

A jet ski passed me at low speed, but a low fuel warning went off as they passed and the father and son pulled over to the bank to refuel.

I noticed a small log floating in the water and was thinking how it reminded me of an alligator tail. As I looked it slowly sank. It was alive, but I have no idea what it was. Possibly the back of a large turtle.

I turned around. I had been paddling into the sun for a while and without any sunscreen on I didn't want to burn. The jet ski, now refueled, continued on its way up the creek.

I noticed something fuzzy on the water. A giant ball of something. As I got close it suddenly ran at me across the water at high speed. I panicked and jolted as it ran right up to my cockpit until I realized it was a ball of fishing line. My paddle had snagged a submerged piece of line pulling the ball directly to me.

I saw what may have been a golden eagle. Much larger than a hawk, and a golden brown. It fled deeper into the woods as I paddled by. I've been surprised by all the wildlife I've seen in the last 6 weeks: squirrels, red tail hawks, deer, pileated woodpeckers, geese, mallards. As I sit here typing this a hawk flew across the water carrying a snake. Often in the early morning I see a lone bald eagle patrol the creek.

Before long I've returned home. I turn the kayak upside down against a tree and trudge up the hill to rinse off my water shoes before going inside. In a few moments it is dusk, and the song birds bring my day to a close.

Woody

It is the Memories that I keep.

I haven't posted much this year, but I would be remiss in not acknowledging the the hand off of my first kayak.

The Guillemot was there on my first trip and took me on my very first Bill Dodge trip. She went with me the first day I paddled with my kids, and was there the day Greg Welker taught me how to roll.

My Guillemot seemed more submarine than kayak at times as she speared through every wave no matter how small. Even the most experienced kayaker couldn't paddle her far without the rudder. She loved to turn.

Excluding a few trips in Japan, she saw me come closer to harm than any of my other kayaks and brought me home safely. But before I had 50 trips under my belt I felt my skills had outgrown her and was looking to move on.

She rested quietly under a tarp for many years, coming out for a short period as my daughter moved up from her Necky Gannet. But for the last 5 years she languished under the tarp.

In the winter of 1998 I spent every spare moment after work and all day Saturday's and Sunday's placing cedar strips of wood next to each other until finally coating her with fiberglass and epoxy.

And on Jan 1st 1999 she made her (and mine) maiden voyage. I was lucky to live through that day.

I wish I could have paddled her once more. But it was a tight fit back when I weighed 165lbs. There is no way I could fit in the boat any longer.

The boat consumed so many hours in her assembly and brought so much pleasure over the years that it became invaluable to me. But she was wasting away under that blue tarp, so today I gave her away.

In the end it isn't the wood and fiberglass where the value lay, but in the memories that I keep.

Woody

Pictures

August

The crickets sound like sleigh bells as they sing through the night. So August feels like Christmas when I close my eyes. I'm seconds from sleeping as it crosses my mind. That everything changes and this is my time

Nina Gordon

It has been frustrating living so close to water knowing there is about 30 feet of chest deep mud between the firm shore and water deep enough to float a kayak.

Several plans over the spring were hatched, and almost as quickly they had to be shelved as first several plans to lengthen a dock were up ended by a flood that ripped the existing dock away.

Another plan was tested to build a 'ditch' through the mud to shore in order to launch near firm ground. But as summer came in the heat dried up the ditch.

The sun did create a 3-4" crust capable of supporting the weight of a walking human carrying a boat. It was still a messy ordeal to get into the water, but it was reachable, and another plan was tried to build a portable walkway over the mud.

So far, the walkway has worked well. The ability to roll the walkway up and off the mud when the rains come has worked as designed. The water is now within reach and the kayaking will commence...

Pictures

Woody