by John Snitzer
My paddling adventure started this morning with discovering a torpid southern flying squirrel in my basket of cold-weather paddling gear. Life in the woods I guess. There is lots of good flying squirrel info available online if you are interested.
I've never thought of the Beaufort scale before while whitewater paddling. But the crossing over to the VA side was more like blue water sailing than kayaking. We had whitecaps and waves to two feet. I think 6 on the scale of 12, fresh breeze, with wave height reduced by the limited fetch. Note that kayaks are more bothered by wind and waves than wooden sailing ships from the early 1800s.
Inadvertently, we split up, with two of us running Seneca Breaks and two on the traditional route. Paddling in high wind (forecast at 15-20 gusting to 40) was an experience. Just sitting still, the wind would push my boat down river faster than I could walk on land. Catching eddies was a challenge--turning into the wind immediately got you shoved hard downstream and catching the breeze with a paddle blade could flip you over.
We flushed a flock of Canada Geese. They flew just slightly left of directly upstream into the wind and vectored directly south towards the Virginia shore. It was an excellent demonstration of ferrying angle across stiff current.
All paddled elegantly. A beautiful afternoon under a dramatic sky.
Minority Report by Alf Cooley
"Inadvertently we split up" is a kind way of putting it. While attempting to stay just to the left of the eye of the wind, I was blown downstream as I had not got halfway to Trump's huge flag and had to choose a route down over the rubble Dam No. 2. Not many choices there, but I wriggled down shallow passages until grounding out and having to exit my kayak to continue. I heard a whistle, and John was coming to my aid. We paddled with difficulty (shallows, wind) to the Maryland side to sponge out my boat, and then continued down the Breaks, as John describes. We met Barb and Miki, at the bottom of the Breaks and returned via the C&O Canal, the only halfway normal part of this trip. Upwind, though some respite could be found by hugging the towpath bank.
In our/my defense for being out in such weather, we encountered two other groups of CCA kayakers doing the same - four returning just as we were putting in, another two just after.
In other words, "elegantly" must be in the eye of the (generous) beholder.