Rants and Revelations

I did this paddle again, from Browncroft Avenue up to the point where Baycreek puts in for the Ellison Park shuttle. (Actually there is a pretty hefty rapid just upstream from that put-in so I doubt I’ll ever get upstream from there.) I’ve done it before, such as when I wrote about it last August in Rants and Revelations » Today’s paddle. It’s over 90 degrees out today, and the prospect of a shady stream seemed like a great idea.

I’m a little concerned because the little parking spot I park at had new “NO TRESPASSING” signs. The parking spot is in front of a small fenced off area that fences off a small brick structure that belongs to the Monroe Water Authority. I can’t imagine that a service truck from the Monroe Water Authority is going to show up at 4:30pm on a Thursday before a long weekend.

The stream was running extremely fast and high today. In previous paddles, there have been places that required me to push along the bottom and even to get out and drag - those places were deep enough to keep paddling, deeply in some places, and shallowly in the place I’ve had to get out and drag before. It was hard work, and I’m actually surprised I made it all the way to the turn-around point. I felt a bit Damiano Cunego today - in today’s stage of the Giro D’Italia, he kept sliding off the back of the leading group, but catching back up to it again and staying within contact to finish a pretty decent 5th. Or maybe I was more like Mickaël Buffaz who yesterday while on a long solo break-away actually climbed off his bike and tearfully begged his coach to let him quit, but recovered and pedalled well for the rest of the race until he was eventually caught near the end. And I would paddle hard and get tired, then stop for a swig of water, and be ready to paddle some more. Of course, I had the knowledge that it was going to get way easier after I reached the turn-around point.

The wild life was pretty sparse today. A lot of ducks, a pair of grey catbirds, a pair of goldfinches bathing in the stream, mourning doves, swallows. I didn’t see any geese on the way up, but by the time I got back there were a couple of pairs near where I put in, including one that had at least 11 fairly large down covered babies. There were a lot of people out walking their dogs, and I nearly had to repel boarders in the main “dog park” part of Ellison Park.

It was a great paddle, but I worked too hard, and my elbows and shoulders are feeling it.

I went up the left branch of the creek after the weir, up to Old Browncroft Blvd. 4.4 miles round trip. The air was a little below 70 degrees and the water still a bit cold, and I wore my wet suit with no shirt underneath, and my PFD. The PFD isn’t very good, and it rides up above my fat stomach and ends up rubbing against my jaw as I paddle. The wet suit rubs a bit under the arms but I’m pretty sure it would be fine if I wore a t-shirt.

I tried hard to paddle with good technique, but I don’t think I did a very good job. My elbows are quite sore now. When I got to the turn around point, my left shoulder and right fore-arm were sore and I thought I’d have to take it easy on the way home, but with the current behind me I actually ended up doing some good hard paddling and I wasn’t sore when I got home.

If you look at the Google Maps Pedometer map on the link above, you’ll see that I went into a large area of open water. I think of it as “the lake”, but it’s not really one. The shores of “the lake” provide a lot of mud flats, and on the flats there were dozens of sandpipers. There seemed to be two types of them, some really tiny ones about the size of a goldfinch, and some about half way between that and a killdeer, but I wouldn’t swear to that. I also saw some highly aggressive red wing blackbirds - some attacking each other, and some chasing off some small falcon-form birds like a Merlin or a Kestrel. I guess the females are coming soon. This area also attracts vultures, which is not very encouraging when you’re struggling, and they were out today.

Speaking of birds, what is it about Great Blue Herons that make them so stupid? They see a boat coming upstream, so they “escape” by flying up further upstream, only to have to fly off again 5 minutes later as you get closer. Why is it so hard for them to figure out that they just have to fly around behind you? Bird brains!

On the trip back, I discovered a “gaggle” of young girls in kayaks harassing a swan. There were about 8 or 9 of them, and they had the swan surrounded and were sort of chasing it around. The poor thing had its wings up in a threat display, but there were too many for it to attack or get away from. I didn’t see an obvious leader, so I yelled at them to leave the damn swan alone before they killed it, and paddled on home. When I got to Bay Creek, I asked about this group and the guy working there said that they were supposed to be with an instructor, and he’d speak to them when they got back.

Last year’s first paddle of the season was March 31st. This year’s was May 10th. Ok, granted the spring was much later this year, but I still see it as a sign of how disorganized I’ve been this spring.

The air temp was in the high 70s, and the water temp was cool to the touch. I just traded in the wet suit that I got for Christmas for one that goes around my huge gut, and so I was terribly over dressed in a wet suit and polar weave long sleeved shirt. I brought along my iPod shuffle but as I parked the car I could hear the sounds coming from the marsh and decided to leave it behind.

The water was smooth as glass, and I didn’t feel any current at all. I was paddling without a skeg - I always heard that using a skeg on smooth water was a crutch, but I wanted a boat that took some growing into and it took me a while to get to this point, so I was happy that I seem to have outgrown it.

The marsh is in full spring mode. The reeds have all been mashed down over the winter, leaving just a few cat tails sticking up. A lot of those cat tails had male red wing blackbirds singing out their territory and keeping a wary eye on the other males. I don’t think the females have arrived yet.

Down in the mashed down reeds, lots of geese were nesting, although I didn’t see any goslings. At one point there is a log in the middle of the stream, and on it there were two goose eggs on top of the log, and five or six other eggs down in a crook in the log. No goose anywhere near by, so I wonder if the goose got frustrated with its eggs rolling away and abandoned the nest.

I only saw one swan, not surprisingly in exact same place I’ve seen swans before, and many pairs of ducks. Up near the wier, I came across a Great Blue Heron. By keeping my paddles down so that they wouldn’t be sillohuetted against the sky (I normally have a high paddling style) I was able to ghost by without him flying away.

Other bird life included an American Goldfinch and another yellow bird about the same size, but without any black. I’m not sure, but I think I saw some red in it as well. I also could see a float plane doing take offs and landings on the bay - at first I thought it was Mike’s plane, but it appeared to have a huge tail that marked it as a Maule.

Near the weir, I also saw a small mustiled, somewhere in size between a chipmunk and a red squirrel but longer, swimming across the stream. As it climbed out on the bank, I could see it was black or very dark brown. I’m guessing it was a mink. It was definitely thinner than a muskrat.

As I reached the turn around point, I started reflecting on what a wonderful little oasis this is. The marsh is surrounded on both banks by lovely woods, what I still think of as “orienteering woods” - the sort of trees that you could really see yourself running through at good speed. Yeah, behind the sounds of the red wing blackbirds and other wildlife, you could hear traffic noise and the occassional siren, but you could shut that out and make believe you were in a real wilderness. It’s no Algonquin park, but it’s beautiful and it’s here.

According to Google Maps Pedometer, I paddled 3 miles today. Not a bad start to the season.

The temperature was forecast to go up to 63 degrees this afternoon. I thought I’d make one last attempt to get out for a final kayak trip and put it away. But when the peak temperature arrived, so did heavy rain and thunderstorms. A realistic assement of my clothing and ability followed, and I decided that the risk of getting hypothermia on a river that nobody else is using was just too high, and I called it off.

The temperature is going to be in the low 50s tomorrow, and down into the 40s all weekend, so I think this is it.

I think I’m going to put a “farmer john” style wet suit and a spray skirt on my Christmas list. Oh, and a paddle float so I can self rescue.

When I came out of work on Thursday, even though the sun was down my car thermometer said it was an unseasonably warm 60 degrees F. The next morning, I took a quick glance at the weather widget on my Powerbook’s Dashboard, and it said that it was going up to 65. And thus a half-baked plan was born. I quickly put my kayak on my roof rack, which has been left on my car just in case such a day happened.

The intention was to sneak out for a few hours around lunch time and enjoy one last paddle for the year. Unfortunately reality interferred. It turns out that I’d read the weather widget before it had updated, and Friday was actually only going to get up into the mid 50s. Still maybe do-able. But unfortunately I got hellishly busy at work on Friday, and didn’t manage to slip out. Today was warmer, but raining, but still a remote possibility, but I was even busier at work. So I didn’t get out today either. And tomorrow it’s going to be a high of 43F, which would be cold even in a wet suit which I don’t have. Doesn’t look like it’s going up again until Thursday. I guess I’m going to give up and take the kayak off the roof.

Man, if I don’t get off this overtime treadmill soon I’m going to kill myself. Or somebody else.

I put in at Browncroft, and paddled upstream. The stream was running pretty fast because of recent rains. Unlike last weekend, when there was only one place where I had to sprint my hardest to get through some fast water, this week there were three places like that. Because of that, I only managed to make it upstream for 35 minutes before I pooped out. And it only took me 15 minutes to get back down. But on the plus side, the high water meant there was no place where the kayak bottomed out and got stuck like last weekend.

I went for a paddle today. For a change, I put in at Browncroft Avenue and went upstream. I was hoping to get up to the place where the Elison Park shuttle puts in, but I actually fell short by about 20 feet.

I chose this put-in, because that part of the creek is more interesting than the lower bit - it’s narrow, it’s twisty, it gets shallow and then deeper, fast and then slow, and most of it is covered with trees. There is more wild-life, but paradoxically enough, there is also more human activity - these pleasant tree lined banks go through the middle of picnic areas that seem to be in constant use in the summer. Some of them are family picnics and private groups, but there was also this gigantic party with large barbeque grills set up and loud blaring rap music.

Last week those trees had made it impossible to use my GPS with the “built-in” antenna, but today I decided to try the external antenna. It made a bit difference - I didn’t see the GPS complain about lost signal at all, except under the bridge over Browncroft Avenue. The strange thing is that when it lost the signal that early in the paddle, it decided I must be driving and suddenly I saw it showing me having an average speed of around 80 mph. I reset everything as soon as I came out from under the bridge. It worked great. It shows that I paddled a distance of 4.7 miles (as opposed to Google Maps Pedometer, which says 4.6) at an average of 3.3 mph. On the way upstream, I found that on the sections where I could paddle fast, I could get it up to around 3.9 mph, but my average speed was around 3.0 mph. When I turned around, I was disappointed to find that if I pushed it hard, I could only get up to around 5.4mph, but I was so tired that most of the time I was only paddling around 3.5 or 4.0. I think that means the stream goes about 1.5mph, or maybe it goes faster and I was just more tired than I think.

On the way up, I bottomed out several times, and one time I got stuck so bad that after backing up and retrying 3 or 4 different routes, I ended up getting out of the boat, walking forward about half a boat length, and getting back in. Also, there was a tree across most of the stream fairly early on and I had to paddle as fast as I could and I just barely got through it. And when I was within sight of the place where the shuttle puts in, I could see some people in white water boats playing, but I got into a bit of fast moving water that I just couldn’t seem to paddle faster than. Since I was almost where I’d planned to turn around anyway, and the presence of the white water boats made me think the next rapid would be even faster, I turned around.

There was a fair amount of wildlife around - I saw lots of ducks, including some who were pure white. One duck kept flying down river and landing right in front of me, until I got close enough and then it would fly down river again. After a few times, I found a bit of river that was wide enough that I could pass him without activating his flight reflex. I saw several Little Green Herons, including two together in a tree. And there was a Kingfisher heading downstream, but I couldn’t find that Bruce Cockburn song that reminds me of on the iPod Shuffle. Also saw a couple of American Goldfinches.

Paddling downstream is a lot more fun than paddling upstream. On the way upstream, I tried different depths of skeg - I thought that with more skeg the kayak wouldn’t get caught by the current and turned. Great in theory, but I found that unless I was paddling pretty fast, the current got the front turned quite a bit before the skeg got into the fast water and stopped the turn. I actually had to do a back sweep in a few places to get around corners. Coming downstream is a lot more fun that way - you can use the way the current catches the upstream part of the kayak to kick you around corners, and that’s cool.

I decided to do the Ellison Park Shuttle again, this time without Vicki. The weather was perfect, and because of that there were a lot of people out. While I was waiting for the shuttle to leave, a large group left including a woman with a dog in her kayak. The dog had on a life jacket, which is just as well because they weren’t more than 20 feet from the dock when the dog decided to jump out, and the woman had no idea how to get the dog back in. By the time we left she was coming back to the dock with the dog swimming along side. I have no idea whether they got sorted out or not.

On the shuttle with me there were two tandem kayaks, two canoes with two people in them, and one other solo kayak, none of them looking very experienced. I helped the driver get them launched, and left after them. By the time I caught up to them (at the next bend), they were all over the river and pointing in random directions. Two women in one of the canoes rammed me as they spun around and flailed at the water, bringing back some bad memories from when I hurt my wrist last year. I hope they got settled down and pointing in the right direction eventually, because there were some snares later on.

I brought my GPS along as an experiment. The manual says it’s waterproof and floats so I thought that I’d be safe. The idea was to get a better idea of the real length of the course, and also the speed I maintain. But it was kind of a waste - during the twisty part at the top of the course, it kept losing signal, often for long stretches. So distance was even less accurate than my previous attempt using the Google Maps Pedometer.

The river was pretty high after the rain, and moving pretty fast. But the recent storms also left some traps for the unwary. There was a downed tree that blocked most of the river leaving a very fast passage along one side. And then not too much later just past Browncroft Avenue there was another tree that had fallen all the way across, but it’s actually not in the water but above it. There was a group coming upstream under it when I got there, and I was able to also duck under it in one part.

There wasn’t a lot of wildlife out today unless you count hordes of inexperienced paddlers. I saw kingfishers in the twisty wooded bit at the top, and some barn swallows under the bridges, and a few ducks, but that’s about it. I didn’t see the usual swans or geese.

Back at Baycreek, there were a couple of guys paddling around with Greenland paddles and kayaks. That looks like something I’d like to try out some time. I’ve heard they’re better on your elbows and shoulders.

Vicki and I decided to try the Ellison Park Shuttle today. We’ve paddled up and back on Irondequoit Creek many times, and we thought it would be fun to try a trip where you just go with the current the whole way.

I’ve made a Google Maps Pedometer map of the route, but I had to guess where the route actually started, so the 4.4 miles it shows might be off by plus or minus half a mile.

I thoroughly enjoyed it, but Vicki had a lot more trouble with it than I did. I’ve been paddling that kayak and that creek a lot more than Vicki has, and I’ve been paddling for decades. Vicki kept finding the current turning her sideways and crashing into the bank. I tried to explain about the way the current kicks out the stern once the boat gets a little bit sideways. I tried to explain about countering the correction before the boat even gets straight otherwise it will swing through and you’ll end up overcorrecting. I tried to explain about leaning and weight shift. But basically, I can’t explain it because I’ve just practiced it until it’s second nature, and I don’t even know what I’m doing. I just know that watching her, I seem to be doing 1/4 the work that she is. I guess it’s a matter of practice.

The top part of the creek is nice - it’s covered over with trees, and we watched a couple of Kingfishers leap frog each other down the creek. The baby ducks and geese were quite huge - hard to tell from the adults until you get close. Vicki saw an absolutely huge snapping turtle near the weir, but I didn’t see it. Down near Bay Creek we saw a couple of swans with nearly grown babies. And one crazy swan that was chasing geese. Somebody at Bay Creek says that swan seems to spend all this time chasing geese. Strange.

When it comes to flying, I listen to that inner voice. You know, the one that whispers “do you really want to do this?” I’ve cancelled trips based on nothing more than an uneasy feeling - trips that I wanted to make. And I’ve had the feeling afterwards afterwards “hey, I could have flown that, dammit why did I cancel?” But I continue to listen to the voice, because the consequences of getting it wrong are so obviously bad.

But today that voice whispered, and I didn’t listen.
(more…)

I went paddling today. This time I didn’t have anybody with me to moderate my paddling, so of course I went out too fast and went too far. I got to the point where Vicki and I turned back on the weekend, and it only took me about 20 minutes (Vicki and I took about an hour there and back). Just past there the creek doesn’t seem to get any narrower, but it gets very shallow except for a deep channel on the outside of curves, so the current gets very strong. Also, it gets pretty twisty with overhanging trees upstream from there, so you spend a lot of time pausing to read the river and sweeping on one side or the other.

That’s where I noticed something that I’d mentioned last year some time - sometimes when I’m going around the inside of a corner where it gets shallow, my wake will hit the bank and bounce back and push my stern out, helping me around the corner. Also on straightish sections, the boat seems to hunt around for the deep part - it’s hard to figure out exactly what’s going, but I think the wake is bouncing off the bottom or something.

There were a fair number of people out on the river, including three racing canoes hammering downstream in close formation. It was just that sort of day where you had to leave work early and enjoy it. As well as the canoes and kayaks, I saw my first swan of the season, plus it appears that the female redwing blackbirds have finally come to join their males. I also saw a couple of nests in the reeds - sort of basket-like and up high. I think they must be last year’s.

According to the Google Maps Pedometer, I went 4.3 miles, and it took me about an hour and five minutes. It took me about 35 minutes to get up to Browncroft Ave and 30 minutes to get back. I guess that shows how much I overdid it - in spite of the strong current I couldn’t go downstream much faster than I went up.

One strange thing - last time I paddled, I found a lump of dried blood on the side of my left leg and a small scab. My legs get a bit numb when I’m paddling, so it’s easy to imagine me cutting myself without noticing. This time, same thing. Dried blood in the same place, and some on the floor of the cockpit. I can’t tell if I re-cut myself or re-opened the same wound. I looked very hard to find something I could have cut myself on in the cockpit, and I can’t find it. I’m going to have to remember to put on a bandaid next time.

My elbows are throbbing now, but I’ve taken some Alieve and I’m hoping it will get better.

This is my first real weekend off in nearly three months. Last weekend didn’t count because I was sick, although I spent half of today napping and reading in bed, so it’s not like it’s any different when I’m well… But it looks like the crisis is mostly over, and I might be able to start keeping regular hours again. It will be nice to come home in the evening and have time for more than eating and going to bed.

Vicki and I took advantage of the glorious sun and went for a paddle on Irondequoit Creek. My second of the season, Vicki’s first. The water was WAY higher than it had been for my first paddle, but surprisingly the current wasn’t too strong. Vicki’s favourite kayak, a Hurricane Tempo, was just sitting there on the dock. On the other dock, there was a carbon fibre racing canoe with a carbon fibre racing paddle in it. Oh, how I wish I had the knees and elbows to give that one a spin around the block! We couldn’t find any unoccupied staff around - one guy was building new canoe racks, and somebody else was showing some people around the kayak sale racks. So Vicki signed the form and waiver, and grabbed the Tempo. But first, some guy there was rather perturbed that she was taking it - it seems that he had just returned from renting it, and had wandered off to find somebody to help him put it away and let him pay. We assured him that we were renting it, and he should just relax and enjoy the fact that he didn’t have to put it away.

While this was going on, a guy who’d been standing around our dock not saying or doing anything went over to the other dock and took the racing canoe, heading downstream to the bay.

We went up to the weir and a little bit further - exactly the same place Rob and I turned around last time. The weir was a total non-event with the river so high. Except my hat blew off and I had to go back and get it. Coming down, we crossed the weir just as the guy in the carbon canoe was coming up. I said something complementary about his canoe, and he told me that according to his GPS he was making 5.5 mph upstream. That’s pretty impressive, but not exactly world championship speed. He asked me if I’d ever though about racing, which of course I have, and he told me about a race he organizes on the Genessee river, with an amateur 3 mile race and a pro 10 mile race. I’d love to give the 3 mile race a shot. Unfortunately I didn’t get most of the details, but he said he was going to be putting flyers in the Bay Creek shop in the next couple of weeks. I suggested he also post it to the flowpaddlers.org chat forum.

It was a fun little paddle, and my elbows only hurt a little. Last time I was given some suggestions about seating position to stop my legs from falling asleep, and it helped a little but not entirely.

Last fall, I bought a decal to decorate my kayak. It arrived soon after my wrist went into a cast, so it was late in the season before I put it on. It was a sunny day, about 55 degrees out. The instructions said to wait until it was 60 degrees out, but I dragged the kayak out to the sun and thought that would be good enough. It wasn’t - the paper got all wrinkled up. But I decided to leave it to see if it got any better.

In the spring, when I brought the kayak out for the first paddle, the paper actually had flattened out. But I couldn’t seem to get the paper off without pulling off the vinyl. But yesterday I managed to get the paper off - it turns out that the isn’t any vinyl under the paper around the edges, only where the black stuff is. For some stupid reason I expected clear vinyl with ink, not just black vinyl. A few little chunks of vinyl came off, but on the whole I think it looks pretty good.

It’s 80 degrees out, and so Rob and I snuck out from work at lunch time and went for a paddle. We didn’t go too far, just up past the weir. But it was lovely. The weir was in full flow, and we had an audience of people who were hiking down a trail in Ellison Park who stopped to watch. So we had to make it, and it was touch and go for a while there - Rob didn’t line up with the outflow at all, so when he hit the V it of course dragged him immediately across and he banged into one of the uprights on the weir. I lined up and paddled with short fast strokes and made it up, but almost buried one side of the cockpit when I did it. Rob watched what I did and copied it successfully.

My kayak was sitting on the floor of the garage all winter because one day in the fall I took it down to try to install a decal on it, and was too lazy to put it back up. Consequently there was a neat little row of bird seed along the foot peg rails when I lifted it onto the roof rack. And I can’t seem to get the backing paper off the decal without removing the vinyl, either.

Along the way, there were a lot of pairs of Canada Geese out, mostly with the female hidden down in the weeds and the male at the edge of the free-flowing water making threatening noises and gestures as we paddled by. At one point, there was a single goose in some flotsam with his whole head and neck down on the surface of the water. At first I thought he was dead, but he turned to watch me was I paddled past. I’ve never seen that before. There were also lots of turtles, and a couple of male redwing blackbirds. The water was clear and fast and VERY cold.

Lifting my kayak and Rob’s kayak on and off the roof racks, I started wondering what it would cost to trade up to a lighter kayak. There are things I love about my kayak, and a couple of things I don’t love, but the only thing I hate is that is weighs around 70 pounds. I was talking to one of the salesmen at Bay Creek, and he says they don’t make the Skerry in fibreglas any more except as a special order. But they have the ‘glas Pintail, which is pretty similar but a little lower volume. Since I’m unlikely to be camping in the kayak, that might do. Given the price difference between what I could reasonably expect to sell the Skerry for and this, it might be doable after a few more weeks of overtime. If I don’t die from the stress first.

For the record, what I love about my Skerray:

• Handles beautifully. With the skeg up, I can spin it, with the skeg down I can track straight in a quartering breeze.
• Fast and responsive. It rewards your effort.
• The snug fitting cockpit gives you tons of control - the kayak feels like an extension of you.
• Looks nice. The grey colour isn’t harsh or glaring.

Things that I don’t hate, but don’t love about my Skerray:

• The cockpit. While it’s nice that my thighs go naturally into the thigh braces and the sides of the seat press into my hips to snug me in, it’s a right bitch getting into and out of the boat. I haven’t tried a wet exit yet, and I’m a little worried how hard it would be. They have two Pintails at Bay Creek, and one of them has a keyhole cockpit - if it means easier ingress and egress without giving up the snug feel, I’m all for that.
• The skeg sometimes makes an sloshing sound as it hits the sides of the skeg box when I’m paddling hard with it down. It sounds like somebody sneaking up behind me until I realize what it is.
• I don’t know if it’s the seat or the way I’m sitting, but my legs go numb after an hour in the boat. I read that some people put a rolled up towel under their knees to help that, but with the snugness of my cockpit I don’t want another impediment to getting out in a hurry. Somebody at Bay Creek today said to try rolling my butt forward a bit to take pressure off the sciatic nerve. I’ll try that next time.

Look at this: A hydrofoil kayak!

I so want to try one of these things.