It was one of those beautiful days that beckons paddlers to the water, the siren cry can be heard from hundreds of miles away. One of those days that it doesn't matter how far you have to go to get into "The Wet". It's time to 'boat up' and get paddling. Mind you, I've been a few times this year, since things finally thawed after the winter that wouldn't end, but, I wanted to go someplace that I hadn't been a hundred times, so, with 'Scott' on 'Penny', I headed for Elk's Neck State Park in Maryland, and very nice put in at Rogue's Harbor at the end of the Elk River and leads right into Chesapeake Bay. Along the way, at the tip of the headland that divides the Elk from the Chesapeake is Turkey Point and it's famous lighthouse.
The only "hassle" of launching from Rogue's Harbor is that the ramps are usually tied up by power boats, meaning paddlers need to launch from the adjacent beach. All well and good, right? Well, yeah, but, it's over a hill and a sidewalk that leads down to the dock. A mere 50 yards away, but, with a fully loaded kayak on your shoulder, it can feel like 5 miles! If you have a kayak trolley (wheels) to move your kayak over land, BRING IT! It will make your life infinitely easier, even if you have to take it back to your car once your on the beach.
I pushed out off the beach and was immediately surprised at just how still the water was. I had put in from this spot before and negotiated the current coming down the river, spilling out into the bay. Riding the slight bumps as I moved closer to the tip of the headland, and the swells in the Chesapeake. This was not one of those days. The water was smooth as glass with barely a ripple that was not made by my kayak.
I proceeded down towards Turkey Point, angling out away from the coastline in order to make sure I could see the lighthouse. Too close to shore and you will not be at a proper angle to see it, as it is set back of the rapidly eroding point. We had flooding wind and rain just a couple days prior and the effect was noticeable. The dirt cliffs facing the bay were freshly washed and there was driftwood everywhere, as if a tree had exploded over the water. I found myself steering around some of the larger pieces, while the smaller ones just bobbed up and down. Good thing they were around, or I would have been the only thing breaking the surface tension of the water. The bay was empty, I was alone and found myself soaking in the solitude and the sounds of the birds around me including a small group of Least Terns,
who had decided that the buoys along the way were good resting spots, their yellow beaks glowing in the sunshine. I enjoyed seeing them and watching their aerobatics punctuated by their head long crashes into the water and coming up with a small fish. It has long amazed me how so many of the sea-going birds can plummet at full speed into the water, grab a fish and come up again none the worse for wear. The larger the bird the more impressive the splash and the outcome as well.I was thoroughly enjoying my paddle, the solitude, the water, my kayak and the occasional avian companion when one of the banes of my life now, and my paddling decided to rear it's ugly head. I get uncontrollable (and so far, undiagnosable) severe muscle cramps. Sometimes in my hands, which one doctor said was a form of 'Writer's Cramp' because my hands distort painfully when it hits. It can also hit in my legs, thighs and/or calves and wherever it occurs, it is really painful. I had planned on
I've been told time and again that I am "pushing my luck" paddling alone with the muscle spasms....heck, paddling alone itself. But, I belong in my kayak.....I belong on the water. I take every precaution I can. Spot Personal tracker with emergency service, VHF radio, cell phone in dry bag, a chart so I know where I can take out in an emergency. I am not going to stop paddling.....I will not go quietly into that good night. All in all, it was a beautiful day and wonderful way to spend it.
