First Kayak Trip of the Year

This winter started out harshly. The "bomb cyclone" in January treated us to single digit temperatures coupled with strong winds. This makes the recent thaw - temps in the 40's and 50's (not to mention a few days with temps in the 70's!) - feel really like springtime. The river, frozen solid six weeks ago, started to reach the 50's as well. It was time to go kayaking!

Dressed for biking during the "bomb cyclone" super cold weather. I look ready for the planet Hoth.

Unfortunately, no one was available to go paddling last Saturday and it was a rainy day besides, so I didn't go. I awoke Sunday still burning with paddling fever, but the morning was rainy and chilly - not pleasant weather. Fortunately, the rain abated mid-day and I headed out on my own to go paddling.

Getting ready to launch

Yes, yes, you should never paddle solo, particularly in wintertime. Yes, yes, a person with my medical conditions probably shouldn't paddle solo. But life is a balance of risk and reward. After all, last summer I came closer than I expect to being shot while doing the seemingly safe activity of playing music at a festival. Today it almost happened again - someone opened fire outside the White House a mere ten minutes after I passed by on my bicycle. The lesson I draw from this is that you shouldn't be afraid to live your life - risk can find you at any time and place, so why cower from it?

First, I loaded the kayak onto the car and spent some time measuring how tall the car was with the kayak on it. I'm curious to see if I can fit into the garage at work with the kayak on the car. My method required the use of a level and, needless to say, my level was mysteriously missing (I'm betting David has it) but fortunately I have a backup. In fact, my backup level is a thing of beauty - an old wooden level inherited from my father's toolkit. The highest point on the kayak measured 6' 2". Now, to see how tall the garage is ...

I launched from Columbia Island. After going through the extreme contortions required to zip my dry suit unassisted (whose idea was it to put the zipper across the back?!) I launched and headed up the Boundary Channel. The channel is a few hundred feet wide at its widest and is extremely protected - I figured it was the safest route for me to take. Well, then again, it's pretty isolated. While I was unlikely to run into problems from wind or waves there, was never far from shore, and for most of it I could probably walk to shore if I capsized, if anything had happened back there who knows how long it would have been before anyone found me.

The days of rain combined with high tide put plenty of water in the river and the channel, which dries out at low tide, had plenty of water in it. The lowest spot, which is frequently barely navigable, had several feet of water depth. No problem. As a note, conditions were quite different a week later after our crazy windstorm. When I biked down the Mount Vernon Trail on my way to Kitty's Sushi Roll ride I was amazed at how the persistent Northwest wind had blown the water out of the river. The outermost spans of Memorial bridge were dry. The southern tip of Roosevelt Island extended half-way to Memorial Bridge. Rocks I had never seen before poked up above the surface. A little farther downriver it even made the news. But no problem today. Variability of conditions is one reason I never get tired of kayaking the same stretch of the river.

I basically did the Thursday night Pirates of Georgetown paddle, going up around Roosevelt Island. My only time on the river proper was coming back down the east side of Roosevelt; however, conditions were glassy calm and so I wasn't very concerned. Once down at the bottom of the island I ducked back into the protected waters of the Boundary Channel. Because it's usually navigable only at high tide it's rare to be able to take it both out and back.

It felt great to be back on the water!