Early Morning November Run

Having signed up yesterday for a Thanksgiving 5K run, I figured I should go out and try and run that distance. Over the past year I have my emphasis to other forms of exercise, so now running is just an occasional thing.

The neighborhood has a lingering aroma of Halloween. The cool morning air is punctuated with the smell of burnt pumpkin, emanating from the hundreds of jack-o-lanterns left over from last night's Halloween festivities. The air is just cool enough to make my breath visible, and the sky is clear and blue.

As I hit the trail I break into my usual leisurely running pace. I'm used to being passed not only by stronger athletes but also by toddlers taking their first steps, three-legged dogs, and, in the Springtime, energetic caterpillars. But I plug along.

Soon I come up on Ralph the Dentist. He's a walker and so is much slower than I am - I like that. He's ready with his usual gruff, gregarious "Good morning!" I don't know if Ralph is actually a dentist. In fact, I don't even know if his name is Ralph. I've never spoken with the man except to exchange greetings on the trail. His name and occupation were supplied to me by another of the W&OD trail regulars. I also saw Andi the Gazelle. I have actually spoken with Andi once - we met at a party hosted by a former CIA analyst (true!). I call her "the Gazelle" because she has a very fluid running style, as if gravity affects her a little bit less than it does the rest of us.

As I ran I also noticed the seasonal changes - leaves turning brown, Virginia Creeper dying back, and so on.

The run went without a hitch, as I expected it would. As usual, near the end I started bargaining with myself as to where to finish up. It's a fairly steep uphill climb from the trail to my house, some of which I do at a walking pace as a cool down. The variable is where to transition from running to walking. There's the bridge to the trail, the spot where I get to the sidewalk, the first and second cross streets. The lazy part of me always argues for the shortest run - just to the bridge. Today I overcame that lazy voice and ran as far as the first cross street - my usual compromise stopping part. A successful 5K - I didn't time it, though.

Pirates of Georgetown Halloween

I'm trying to figure out what year the Pirates of Georgetown Halloween party tradition started. The earliest pictures I have are from 2003, but I have fuzzy memories that it may have started a year or two earlier. In any case, it has become an annual tradition which attracts kayakers not just from the Georgetown group but from the entire Chesapeake Paddlers Association. The party is always bittersweet - as fun as it is to hit the water in costume, it also marks the end of the club-sanctioned Thursday evening paddling season. There are people at the party who I won't see again until April. Without question it marks the end of languid evenings by the river. Soon the staff at Jack's will tow the docks away for the year, leaving only the small winter dock. Those of us who go out over the Winter are facing the cold months ahead - months of freezing hands and uncomfortable dry suits.

But for tonight, all is well. There are rubber duckies floating in a pool of duck blood (which turns out to be red wine). There's pizza, veggies, snack foods and there are desserts galore. I stay away from the giant cupcakes but hopelessly overdo it on someones home-baked oatmeal raisin cookies. I stick to Diet Coke as my beverage, so my only buzz is from sugar.

Before I know it, hours have passed and it's time to hit the road. The gravel crunches under the wheels as I pull out of the parking lot. I know I'll keep seeing some of the gang - on the water, at the pool, in the neighborhood - but I'll be watching the NOAA water temperature web page, waiting for the Potomac to once again warm up as Spring approaches.

Hemlock Park with Ted

Ted and I took advantage of a beautiful Autumn day to take a geocaching hike in Hemlock Overlook regional park. Hemlock is the only one I had never visited of the chain of parks along the Occoquon River. That's because its primary use is as an outdoor eduction facility (jointly run by the parks authority and a local university). It turns out that in addition to that stuff there are hiking trails that are open to the public. So we headed out to do some hiking and find some geocaches.

One thing about caching is that it can take you far off the trail and get you pretty completely spun around. Even with two GPS receivers in hand, after two caches we had no idea of where the trail was anymore, but we quasi-backtracked and eventually found ourselves on a trail that led down to and along the banks of the river. It rained like crazy yesterday and so the trails, while not muddy, were a little slippery. Ted, as usual, was hiking in Crocs and had no problems negotiating the trail (he was also channeling some strange teenage Rambo vibe, with a camo bandanna, neck shade, etc.). I, wearing low hikers, came pretty close to sliding down into the river on one steep section of trail.

Yesterday's rain was a welcome anomaly. It's been a pretty dry Fall, which has the unfortunate impact of lessening the intensity of the Fall colors. It was still pretty amazing out in the woods, though. This time of year is pretty striking around here.

Alas, eventually we had to head for home. The economy being what it is we decided to forgo the burgers which beckoned to us from Fuddruckers. Instead we just grabbed a couple of Diet Cokes from the trunk of the car (a good deal at Target, but I keep forgetting to bring them into the house) and headed home.

Last Full paddle of the regular Pirates season

One of the things I love about kayaking is the feel of the seasons changing. Unfortunately, in Fall this also means the end of the officially sanctioned weekly paddling groups (there are people who go out all Winter, but those people are crazy - that reminds me, I have to dig out my Winter paddling gloves). The "Pirates of Georgetown" group's season always ends with a Halloween party on the docks, including paddling in costume along the Georgetown waterfront. A hearty potluck beckons back at the boathouse, and so the Halloween trip is usually pretty short. So, the week before Halloween is the last full scale outing.

It was near high tide when we set out and so we decided to brave the Boundary Channel, a thin, twisty stretch of water that runs between Columbia Island and Virginia. The channel is impassable except near high tide. It also has a surprisingly remote feeling, bounded as it is by highways and the Pentagon. I've seen wood ducks happily nesting back there. A challenge to navigate during the day, the channel is really quite a trip in total darkness. But we followed each others marker lights and all made it through without incident.

After we got off the water it was Chipotle as usual. punctuated by one of our group being punched by an aggressive homeless guy on a bridge over the C&O canal. No harm done, and the presence of Tom in the group (Tom is about 6' 5" and, while a really nice guy, can present a pretty intimidating mien when he needs to be) prevented any further problems.

Bikur Cholim on the Bay

A couple of days ago I was a recipient of an email from a friend who was organizing a kayak trip out to Thomas Point Lighthouse in the middle of the Chesapeake Bay. In and of itself this was nothing unusual, as this particular friend frequently organizes challenging paddles around the Bay. What was different this time, though his email didn't mention it, was that his cancer had returned in a big way. The unmentioned (though known to most of us) motivation for this trip was to provide an opportunity for him to do something he loved while on a break from chemo.

Now, I was doubtful that someone in his condition could do anything like the fourteen miles of open water paddling that this trip would entail. I had no doubt, though, that he wanted his friends' support. This was a prime, if out of the ordinary, chance to perform the mitzvah (moral and spiritual obligation) of Bikur Cholim, or visiting the sick. As one web site describes it:

Bikur cholim is a term encompassing a wide range of activities performed by an individual or a group to provide comfort and support to people who are ill, homebound, isolated and/or otherwise in distress. The Bible tells us that human beings are created in the image of God and instructs us to aspire to be like God by emulating God’s ways. God visits Abraham while he was recuperating after being circumcised (Genesis 17:26-18:1). The Talmud (Biblical Commentary) teaches us that 'As He visited the sick, so shall you visit the sick…' [http://www.bikurcholimcc.org/whatisbc.html]

As it happened, the weather dealt us a challenging time. I awoke this morning to find that a small craft advisory was in effect for the bay due to high winds. Usually I'll cancel my plans in weather like this. This time, however, I loaded the kayak on the car and headed out, figuring that at least we'd all gather together and support our friend - and weather forecasts can turn our to be wrong.

I arrived at about 8:30 AM and from the sheltered vantage point of the put-in at Galesville, MD, conditions didn't seem bad at all - maybe the forecast would turn out to be wrong. Eleven of us showed up, and we decided to make a go of it, figuring we could always detour out of the wind into shelter in one of the rivers along the Chesapeake. We launched a little after 9 AM, heading up North towards Annapolis. Well, as soon as we rounded the corner out of the Galesville cove, the wind hit us full force. Blowing about a steady 25 MPH, with stronger gusts. We turned north as planned, straight into it. I've got to say that while it's difficult, I love paddling into the wind. The feel of the oncoming waves lifting the bow of the kayak and slapping it back down on the trough of the wave is exhilarating. As we struggled upwind it quickly became clear that it would be crazy to even attempt Thomas Point. Our friend quickly became fatigued and turned back, escorted by one of the other paddlers for safety. The remaining nine of us continued our struggle up the bay with a goal of reaching the Rhode River. It's about two miles from the put-in to the mouth of the Rhode, a trip that would take a group no more than 30 minutes on a calm day. Today it took more than twice that long. We turned into the Rhode looking for relief from the weather. Once in the river the waves calmed down, but the wind was even more fierce than on the bay. The river seemed to be channeling the wind right at us. So, after slogging along for maybe another mile we decided to turn back.

Paddling with a strong wind at your back is completely different that paddling into the wind. Gone is the repeated hammering and refreshing spray as you plow through waves. In its place is the weird feeling of being carried along on the waves - kayak surfing. The speed of being propelled by the waves is cool. Unfortunately, with it comes a loss of control - as the waves hit you they try and spin your kayak around, and it's constant work to stay on course. At one point the waves turned me 90 degrees from the direction I wanted to paddle and I struggled to get pointed back the right way. With each stroke I'd turn a little, and with each wave I'd turn back. Finally, I got in a good groove of riding the waves and rocketed back to the launch - I was the first one back.

We all got off the water invigorated from the challenging conditions. The two paddlers who had turned back early were still there, and after packing our gear away we all broke out our food and settled down at some picnic tables. As I mentioned, the launch point is sheltered from the wind, and it had warmed up considerably by the time we got back. We had a pleasant and leisurely lunch, all said warm goodbyes to our host, then headed for home.

Tashlich kayaking

It's not every day that G-d commands you to go kayaking. Well, by the most strict interpretations there's not any day when kayaking is a commandment. But every once in a while an opportunity comes along wherein you can twist the interpretation of religious practice such that it can involve kayaking. And that's why I love the Jewish holiday of Rosh Hashonah. One of the traditional customs of this holiday is Tashlich.

Tashlich is a ritual casting off of sins. In its most commonly practiced form people walk to a spot with flowing water, say a prayer, and symbolically throw their sins into the water to be carried away. The practice has its basis in an interpretation of Micah 7:18-20, which states, “He will cast off our sins into the depths of the seas.” While it's not 100% certain when observance of this custom started, the prophet Nehemiah mentions that on Rosh Hashonah “All the Jews gathered as one in the street that is in front of the gate of water.” Like many Jewish practices, there are many variations on the practice. For example, some Jews cast bits of bread on the water and watch them be carried away. Other groups say that the bread custom is completely forbidden, since (among other reasons) carrying the bread to the water is forbidden work on a holiday such as Rosh Hashonah. Such is the glory of a decentralized religion like Judaism.

Anyway, readers who stayed awake through the preceding paragraph may have noticed mention of a mitzvah involving proximity to flowing water. Note that performance of this mitzvah does not require that you stay on the bank of the water. In fact, what better way to feel the swirling push and pull of sins being cast off than to actually perform Tashlich out on the water?

At this morning's worship service I had the honor of being on the be'imah (pulpit) along with other board members and David, the temple president. As we waited for the service to begin I raised my idea with David. I had to admit I had a pretty good idea of what his opinion on the subject would be, seeing as how he had his Wilderness Systems Tsunami kayak already loaded onto the roof of his car. We conferred and agreed that a kayak is indeed a fine platform from which to perform the Tashlich ritual. Such is the glory of the Reform branch of Judaism. So, right after services I headed home, switched from tallit to Tevas, threw the boat on the car, and headed for Columbia Island Marina. Unfortunately, David wasn't going to be able to go out until later in the afternoon and so we couldn't observe this custom together.

It was mid-tide when I launched and so I knew the Boundary Channel would be impassible. I therefore headed out to the Potomac. As I headed upriver I was surprised to find a fairly strong wind at my back. With the help of this possibly divine wind I made it up to Roosevelt Island in no time at all. There, in the lee of the island I was able to pause and take out a few bits of bread and my printouts. I put the bread on the deck, read the traditional passages from Micah and Psalms 33, flipped the kayak over to release the bread into the water, then rolled back up. Despite the rabbinic suggestion in Pirke Avot to “Turn it and turn it again”, I did not do any more rolls – the water's starting to get kind of cold!

After completing the Tashlich ritual I continued upriver, figuring I'd stop by Jack's Boathouse to wish a L'Shanah Tovah (Happy New Year) to Paul, one of the proprietors. Unfortunately, there was no one down at the docks when I got there and so I continued on. About the time I left Jack's the wind picked up some more and it started getting darker. The weather forecast had included “Scattered Thunderstorms” and so I figured I should hightail it back to the put-in. I headed back down river, having fun banging through the slight chop on the way down. Fortunately the thunderstorm never arrived. In fact, by the time I got back to the marina it was sunny again.

I loaded the kayak back on the car, had a traditional Rosh Hashonah lunch of an energy bar and a Coke Zero at a picnic table by the water, then headed home with a purified spirit.

Nation's Triathlon

One of the things kayakers get called upon to do is to support swimmers who are participating in events usch as triathlons or long open water swims. Kayaks can be up close to the swimmers as they don't pose a threat or obstacle to swimmers the way powerboats would. Swim support kayakers perform several functions, including herding swimmers who stray from the course, serving as a rest stop for swimmers who need a break and, occasionally, serving to tow swimmers out to rescue boats waiting outside the course. Of course, along the way we shout encouragement as well.

Today I volunteered at the Nation's Traithlon, a swim/bike/run event held right in DC. The mayor of DC, a fitness buff, participated, though I couldn't tell him from the rest of the swimmers. The event started with the swim leg, and the first wave started at 7:30 AM, so we kayakers had to be on the water early. We met up at Columbia Island Marina before dawn and paddled across to the starting line on the DC side (I know, technically Columbia Island is "the DC side as well) as the sun came up. We then spread out to cover the whole course. The course was roughly box-shaped. I took up position near the first turn. This is a challenging spot, as it is the first point at which the swimmers have to change course and a lot of swimmers miss it.

The swimmers launch in waves. Each wave wears a different colored swim cap. I'm not sure what the official puprose of this is, but from the kayakers' perspective it makes it pretty easy to spot the people who are falling behind their wave. I generally keep a closer watch on those people. There were some swimmers who I *never* thought would make it to the end, including one guy who was just floating on his back, slowly stroking with his arms - no kicking at all. But he made it, as did a number of the other slow-and-steady types.

All in all it was fun, as such events usually are. It was a beautiful day out on the water, we were close to home, and Dave B. was good enough to provide a truck bed full of donuts - enough to feed the paddlers both before and after the race. Plus I had the nice surprise of meeting up with the President of my temple, David L. I had known David was a paddler but he's not part of the Georgetown group and so I didn't expect to see him. It turns out, though that he knew someone who was competing in the Tri and so he volunteered. He and I bump into each other not only at temple board meetings, but also at all sorts of other places: on the water, at the yoga studio, ...

More images here.