Mattawoman Furlough Day

If life gives you lemons, make lemonade. If you wind up furloughed because the Federal government is shut down, GO PADDLING!

I worked the first week of the current government shut down, then the second week was almost unrelentingly rainy and dismal, so when Monday of week three dawned warm and sunny I had no choice but to throw my boat onto the car and head for the water. One consequence of the shutdown is that the urban Potomac marinas, being National Park Service concessions, are all closed and so I had an incentive (a requirement really) to go further afield. I had scoped out Allen's Fresh Run at the head of the Wicomico River but the description of the access was that it was down a rutted, unpaved road and given all the rain we've had I was a little concerned with making it down that road. Instead I went with Plan B instead: a trip up Mattawoman Creek from General Smallwood Park (named after Maryland's fourth governor and the highest ranking Marylander in the Continental Army - not to digress into Virginia/Maryland rivalries but we Virginians can lay claim to a somewhat higher ranking revolutionary officer, one George Washington).

Smallwood Park was pretty well deserted when I arrived at 9 AM. Other than a few fishermen there didn't seem to be soul there. The front gate was unmanned and open, leaving me to puzzle how much to pay. Was I "Out of State" ($5) or "Boat Launch" ($10)? Most places don't charge the boat launch fee for car-top boats and so I decided to go with the five bucks, which I placed in the little envelope provided and deposited into the slot.

It was so empty that I got a parking spot right at the boat launch (of which there were four). I loaded my gear and launched and it was only after paddling a bit that I realized that I had left behind the chart I had downloaded, printed and carefully sealed in a Ziploc bag. Well, no matter. It's pretty hard to get lost in a creek and I had a GPS receiver and, with my phone, a backup GPS. Still, I paid careful attention to landmarks to as I headed out.

I could tell it was autumn by the behavior of the birds. They're starting to cluster together and fly in formation, preparing to migrate. The birds on the creek are not as blasé about humans as the ones in the city and I flushed quite a few as I paddled, particularly when I detoured into a field of lotus plants which I discovered the birds use as a resting/hiding place. Each type of bird has its own personality. Canada geese make a lot of noise honking and beating the water with their wings as they take off en masse. Ducks pop up almost vertically like "jump jets", beating their wings madly to gain altitude and speed before flying away in clusters. Herons and egrets are more solitary and their flight seems to take almost no effort at all. Their low cry is more of a grumble at being disturbed than any sign of real agitation of distress. The creek had a huge heron and egret population - I don't think I've ever seen so many. Seagulls are just whiners, though their flight is natural and relaxed. I didn't see any ospreys, which is just as well - even the seagulls think ospreys are whiners. I did see one mature bald eagle circling overhead.

Into the lotus field

  I hadn't launched from Smallwood State Park before and so somehow I had it in my head that I hadn't paddled Mattawoman Creek. I realized I was wrong when I got to the Mattingly Avenue Park landing at Indian Head and instantly recognized as a place we had stopped on a Meetup paddle out of Leesylvania Park in 2012. On that trip we had turned around at that point and so the upper part of the creek really was new to me (to the best of my recollection). Past the landing the creek narrows down. This is really the prettiest part of the trip. My original goal had been to follow the winding creek all the way to the Rt. 224 bridge, but about 6 miles in I decided that it was time to turn around, in part because I figured 12 miles was going to be enough for me for the day and because I didn't want to disturb some fisherman a little further up. These guys had been really considerate as they passed me on their way into the creek, slowing down to a crawl to avoid a wake and so I was kindly disposed towards them. On my drive home I noticed a "Kayak Launch" sign at the intersection of Livingston and Hawthorne Roads (Rts. 224 and 225), which would be the very end of the waterway. I'll have to try paddling from that end some time.

On the way back down the creek I made a quick stop at the Mattingly Avenue landing for a bathroom break and a snack (I ate some almonds and half the Powerbar I had received as swag from supporting the Nation's Triathlon). I sat on the dock for a bit and watched a school of minnows swim, refilled my water bottle from my reserve supply then continued on my way. The day had started cloudy - the remnants of the prior week's bad weather - but over the day the clouds were breaking up. It was sunny as I headed out and pleasantly warm with just a touch of a cool breeze. When a dragonfly landed on my foredeck I scrambled for my camera to get a picture, but it turned out I didn't have to rush. This guy loved the attention and obligingly posed for quite a few photos. He rode with me for fifteen minutes or so before taking off.

My camera-loving dragonfly friend

The last bit of a kayak outing is always in my mind a bit of drudgery, as I usually get impatient to be back once I start to get near the put-in. As I got within a mile or so of the end of my trip I spiced things up a little by sprinting back to the park. As I approached the boat ramp I noticed that the same fishermen were there as when I set out. I guess fishing is a patience game - I had been gone 3 1/2 hours.

After loading the kayak onto the car I relaxed for a bit by the water, eating the other half of my Powerbar and a banana, then headed for home.