I have met Linda* exactly once in person, but for the second year running she has loaned me her Bull Run Marina launch pass over the winter. Bull Run Marina is this odd sort of arrangement - it's a public launch, but you have to pay an annual fee to use it. It's not staffed, so your annual fee gets you a parking pass and a key which works the padlock (after a fashion - the lock is finicky) to a gated entrance. Having the Bull Run key is probably the closest I'll ever come to the gated community lifestyle.
My usual kayaking crew hasn't been that active lately, so on one of the first warm days I headed down to the marina by myself. I always feel like something of a freak suiting up there in all my cold weather gear. Most of the ramp users are fishermen, who don't wear cold weather gear, and the few kayakers I've run into in the cold months either don't know or don't care about cold water safety. I've gotten some odd looks as I wrestle myself into my full dry suit, spray skirt and PFD.
My dry suit is almost, but not quite, impossible to get into solo. It zips across the back, which keeps the zipper out of the way while paddling, but in order to zip it you have to be able to reach behind your back and pull this hard to pull waterproof zipper across from one shoulder to the other. Over the years I've figured out a technique that works, attaching a string to the zipper, reducing the depth of the contortions required and giving myself a little more leverage. Only once have I run into real trouble, when the fabric of the shirt I was wearing underneath got caught in the zipper and I thought I was going to have to give up and drive somewhere to have someone free me from dry suit - but eventually I got the zipper unjammed. It's much easier with a friend to help!
Anyway, the marina sits right where the Occoquan Reservoir, which is never more than about 1/4 mile wide, narrows down further into Bull Run, so if you head to the right when launching it's very protected paddling in narrow, often shallow water. Given the cold water conditions, that's where I went.
On my first outing I was totally freaking myself out about how I was out there by myself in cold (40-ish degree) water. It was a little breezy - nothing significant, but enough to make me worry with every little wind riffle on the water. I kept very close to shore in case of capsize. Paddling close to shore carries its own risks of entanglement with plants, fishing lines, and so on, but it seemed the right thing to do.
The second trip was much more comfortable. For one thing, I was paddling the Tempest 165 rather than the 170 - paddling a sports car rather than a barge. Secondly, it wasn't my first time out, and thirdly, the water was warmer (50-ish) and therefore less dangerous, coupled with really nice air temps.
Neither outing was particularly far (4.3 miles the first time, 5.5 the second) or fast (a hair over 3 MPH both times), but it was really nice to get out on the water again. Plus, the second trip did have an amazing wildlife highlight! As always, I saw great blue herons, kingfishers, geese, and ducks. The turtles were starting to show themselves as well. But on the way out, as I paddled I suddenly heard a big splash by the bank and saw a trail of bubbles left by something swimming away underwater - probably an otter or beaver. I made a note to check that area on the way back, and when I did, sure enough, I spotted a big beaver right about in the same spot. Not only that, it was a very mellow beaver who did not mind paparazzi. Expecting just a fleeting glimpse before he took off, I grabbed my camera as deftly as I could, trying to be slow and smooth so as not to spook the animal, but also fast enough to get a picture before the animal inevitably disappeared, and squeezed off a couple of "see that smudge in the lower right? It's a beaver!" photos. Since it turned out it wasn't going anywhere, I then crept a little closer to get a better look/photo. And a little closer. And a little closer, snapping pix all the way. And, boy, this beaver was totally cool with it. I stopped at a point where I didn't want to get closer because I don't really like to get in the face of the wildlife, but take a look at the picture - shot with my little waterproof point and shoot and barely cropped - and you'll realize I was pretty close. The two of us sat and checked each other out for quite a while before he finally got sick of my ugly mug and swam away. It was a very, very cool experience, and I grinned ear to ear all the way back.
Back at the marina, the ramp was as crowded as I've ever seen it - which meant about six people milling around. This being the fishing boat crowd, of course no masks were in evidence, but we were outside and I didn't have to get near anyone else so it was OK.
Wildlife adventures close to home are awesome.
*Not her real name.
