December 30, 2007- Rising River 31 to 83 - 1150 CFS to 1600 CFS - 2 hours, 15 minutes - 14 Wilderness solo sit-on-top

The 2007 drought has made kayaking a rarity and you take it when you can get it. We've had 24 hours of thunderstorms and downpour, so I headed to the camp and wrapped myself in rain gear. I called a few folks, e-mailed a few, but had no takers on a run in the heavy rain with fairly chilly temperatures. One polite e-mail reply suggested I had a mental problem kayaking in thunderstorms. Topie put me in at 1:00 p.m. and the first hour of the run was in steady rain and it was quite beautiful. I saw at least 100 ducks and 2 blue herons. One lovestruck couple actually floated within 15 yards of me for about 10 minutes and I began hoping they would not mate because any ducklings of that pair would have zero survival instinct-- gator snacks. An hour and a half into the run, "Tony's Rapids" were underwater, but turbulent; The 2nd and 3rd set were stirred up enough to see slight rises of white water from 300 yards away. "Big Mama" was gone at this CFS level. I was at 84 by 3:15. Topie picked me up and we spent an hour in the pines, ending on the bluff of the river at a corner marker tree that has faded names that were carved into it several decades ago.

Acorns, Acorns - December 2, 2007 - CFS 125-105 - Landing to Iron Bridge - Big Paul and Max - 8 Miles - 3 Hours, 20 Minutes

Today I kayaked with Paul Sr. ("Big Paul") who is a forester with 30 years of experience. "Woodies" or Wood Ducks are abundant on the river. You see them 50 yards down river and they scatter into flight as you approach. I never would have connected it, but Paul explained that the ducks were congregating in areas where acorns were dropping from the oak trees. The acorns are so abundant they "ploosh" into the water from the trees. (Yesterday I kayaked with Billy M., and there were times during lulls in conversation when it sounded like mini-missiles were hitting the water all around us). Paul says he and other foresters believe that the bumper acorn cropsmay be a consequence of the drought. (Pecan trees are also producing very well). The lack of rain may put the trees into a state of alarm that causes them to drop more seed than ever to the ground. He also mentioned that acorns are so plentiful in the woods that the deer are not coming to the green patches because there is no pressure to find food. It reminded me how many times this year I've heard people talking about acorns. Two friends of mine with metal roofs have said they had a hard time sleeping at night. My dog was barking non-stop recently at night and I walked out and finally decided that it was the acrons hitting the roof of the tin shed behind our house, it was such a racket. The roads are tanin-staned in our neighborhood. It sounds like pop guns if you drive down a dirt road slowly with windows down. Enough of acorns. We also saw an Otter that was fishing like a porpoise coming up and down, and the Otter had no care for us paddling by; a Kingfisher we pushed down the river for several miles. Overcast and 70 degrees in December, warm enough that we drove back to the camphouse with the windows down. Another day in paradise.

September 8, 2007 - Coosa River Challenge

On September 8, 2007, my daughter Harper, age 10, became the youngest person to ever complete the annual Coosa River Challenge in Wetumpka, Alabama. She finished the event in 5 hours and 45 minutes. Harper ran 5 miles, biked 8 miles through the woods on a mountain bike, rappelled 300 feet down a cliff, and kayaked 6 miles. We trained for the event for several months. We started out the event in last place, but I told her our position would change. A couple of hours into the event, there were stunned bucks in their 20’s and 30’s pulling their bikes over to let a 10 year old girl pass them on the trail.

Thanksgiving Day 2007 - The 9th Ward in New Orleans

October 2007 - 1st Falls S/84 - Against the Current - 230 CFS - Video

October 2007 - On the River Road Again after a May to October drought - N7 to Camp Landing - 220 CFS

Every morning I check the CFS river level ("cubic feet per second" of flow) on the computer. It's measured every 15 minutes. That measurement reveals what faces the river will show me. At 50 CFS south of the camp landing there will be rock exposures and vortex rapids that are a treat; at 100 CFS the vortex is gone. It's all been gone here recently. It's been a long drought. Throughout the summer the river set new drought lows in 61 years of record-keeping. Kayaking was out of the question. Grass was growing where shoals had been; Deep spots had become fishing bonanzas if you could figure out a way to get to them. It was depressing to drive down to the river bank and imagine the water disappearing and the river bed simply becoming a long, sunken tree line. Then, last week, several days of gulley-washing, flood-flashing rains hit the area and the river rose to over 300 CFS. A great weekend for kayaking. In about 2 weeks the colors will dazzle for in small window of time, and by Thanksgiving the color will be gone. Strike while the iron is hot. (Earl, Chase, Miranda, Zebbie, Harper, Walt, Topie, Max)

October 2007 - A Native American's tool? - Shark's Teeth - 210 CFS

We stopped at a sandbank in a bend to stretch, and Earl found this stone, which had the same perfectly round divot on both sides. Earl speculated the divots were human made; that perhaps this was the fire-stone of a Native American, for rubbing a stick into to create sparks to yield a fire. There are plenty of folks in this area that collect prehistoric shark's teeth from the river banks.

October 2007 - We saw a Bald Eagle - or was it an Osprey? - 210 CFS

Earl and I saw a Bald Eagle, or its sister, The Osprey, fly across the river and land high in a pine tree. The telltale sign is that largeness of the bird with a white head, which is what we were looking at. The Osprey, or sea eagle, is a large bird of prey that is commonly seen circling above lakes, rivers, streams and ponds, or perched on dead trees (also known as "snags") or telephone poles. It is almost the size of an eagle and is dark brown with a white head and a brown mask from the eyes down to the cheeks. It also has a white and brown breast and underside. The osprey has large talons that allow it to "fish" by diving down and gripping onto fish. Additionally, the skin of the osprey's feet is rough and prickly, helping the bird maintain its grip on a slippery fish. After catching a fish, the osprey returns to its perch to eat or feed its young. Paul, the owner of the camphouse, and a forester, has seen bald eagles in the county on the river directly south of us. Another friend of mine who practically lives on the river bank every weekend, spends his time on a screened in porch above a run of rapids. He says that there is a "sucker" fish in the river, similar to a mullet, which jumps up-rapids during a certain time of the year, and that he has watched Ospreys come down and take the fish out of the water in their talons, sometimes snatching fish so large that the Ospreys have difficulty rising back up over the treeline to return to their nest. I did not take the photograph above, but it is what the bird looked like in the treetop. It's easy to see how the Bald Eagle and Osprey could be confused when spotted from a distance. The photograph is of an Osprey.

October 2007 - Ignorance is Bliss - River Foam - Root Beer Float - 210 CFS

I've never thought much on river foam. But this weekend the river was particularly foamy, especially after rapids. My friend Earl commented, "You have a lot of phosphates in this river; I could wash my clothes in it." My heart sank a little because I had never associated river foam with pollution. I've read water studies on this river and it is pretty good. We speculated that the long drought has left the farmlands surrounding the river unwashed and that this abundance of foam was a sign of 6 months of farm land fertilizers running into the valley. My friend Earl is usually right, but here I hope he is wrong. I found this at another paddler's web site: "River foam is a sure sign of a rising river, you see it on almost any river during the rise, the faster the rise the more foam. It isn't necessarily pollutants: I've seen foam on pristine Rocky Mountain rivers during their rise, and Mark Twain talks about it as a cub pilot in Life of the Mississippi (in the days you could dip your cup into the river water for a refreshing drink). I can only describe foam from personal experience. It seems to emerge from the sandbars as the rising river eats them up. I've always assumed it to be phosphates and sulfates, and other detergent-like substances left in the sandbars from previous river stages. But that is pure conjecture. It appears during the rise, and then disappears when the river crests, or begins to fall again. . .On the Mississippi it often looks like dirty whipped cream. I sometimes joke with my clients: Do you want some root beer float? as we paddle through a slick of it, our passage muffled by the sickly plopping of it as it slides off our paddles and clings to the side of our canoes. Kids are fascinated by it. Adults are usually repulsed."

Drought - CFS 5.5 - lowest river levels in 61 years

The USDA has been measuring the flow of the river for 61 years and it has never been lower in August, so there has been no kayaking this summer. On average the CFS should be around 250 at this point in August, which is plenty of water for a nice run anywhere on the river. It is at 5. It would mean dragging boats through river bed in 100 degree temperatures.

Is it a "Flame Azalea" or something else? Double click the photo for detail.

Photographs rarely do justice in conveying the color seen by the natural eye. This flower grows on the banks in the spring. It looks somewhat like a coral honeysuckle, but the coral honeysuckle is a vine and not a bush. I think it is a "flame azalea." I found this statement in searching on the internet: "When I was a child the local people called flame azalea "honeysuckle", probably because of the shape and color of the flowers. There are many variations of this native species, with different colors and patterns of the flowers according to variety and perhaps location. This article at the Potomac Valley Chapter of the American Rhododendron Society web site explains many of the varieties of native flame azalea that have been found in the Blue Ridge Mountains and offers some reasons for the variation in color. Although native flame azalea is sensitive and grows best in conditions present in the mountains, there are many hybrid varieties that are adaptable to more varied environments.Unlike the larger rhododendron that grows abundantly along the Blue Ridge Parkway and other mountain roads, flame azalea is a little less common, sheltering in the under story of a mostly hardwood forest in our region. The sight of this glorious yellow or orange blooming shrub, standing eight feet tall against the soft greens of a spring forest, is a special treasure to enjoy along with the other wonders of the Blue Ridge Mountains."

Life is good - 600 CFS water

There is a natural comfort in sitting in front of a fire. It must be in our blood to feel comforted by it. It's only in the last 100 or so years that electricity began lighting homes. Before that we lit a fire or sat in the darkness and the cold. Floating down a river gives me the same feeling as sitting by a fire.

April 15, 2007 - A home or hunting camp to several generations and more to come

Several generations of a family have lived in or enjoyed this home as a hunting camp retreat. The family lived on the land before the road was paved and I expect the same family will be enjoying this spot in 100 years. In the hall there is a photograph of the man that built the house, a farmer, standing in the field shown in this photograph. In the photograph, the man is standing beside corn that appears to be 15 feet tall. The local agricultural service learned of the corn and came out to document the farmer's success. The great-grandsons of that man are now grown young men enjoying the same land. Folks like us are just passing through and are lucky to get to use the house. It's a great place to get away from phones, computers, and to switch from reading Blackberries to eating real ones. There is a television there but I cannot remember the children ever wanting to turn it on because they're always having more fun outside. The camphouse has a pond a stone's throw into the woods behind the house. It's one of those ponds where a child with a cane pole and a cricket or worm throws in the hook and can watch the fish gather around it. The child will always pull up a fish nearly immediately. An adult with 4 small children at the pond has a job on his hands getting the fish off the hooks, persuading the child that the fish needs to be thrown back in ("because it's too small" - "okay, but you are going to eat it tonight if you keep it" - "it wants to go back to its family"), and baiting the hook while the other children are pulling in fish at the same time.

Sunrise at camp - May 12, 2005 - photo by daily photographer Earl U.

My friend Earl U. works long hours and I have not known him very well outside of the business context until this past weekend. Earl brought his son, Chase, up for an overnight trip, and he and my son Walt hit it off. We sat by a fire the night before the run watching the two boys play in this field and shooting BB guns at cans. Earl has a great habit of taking photographs every day. It reminds me of the Indian saying, "That which is not remembered, returns to the Whispering Winds." The next morning he rose to watch the sun come up, and took this photograph at dawn. We live in a fairly flat area of the country and vistas like this are uncommon; but valleys are what make rivers, and the second layer of fog depicted here almost near the horizon, is rising over the river path (double click the photo to see more distinctly the river bed line of fog). Earl and I did a pretty good job of passing the test of not talking about our jobs. We did talk about our young sons and the kind of world they will inherit. Twenty years ago, a person warning of "global warming" would have been considered a Chicken-Little. Now there is no reasonable debate about the effect. Thirty years ago, a person who predicted that millions of Americans would pay a dollar or more a day for bottled water, out of fear of the tap water, also would have been considered an alarmist. But here we are. And while the immediate focus of limited resources may be oil and gas prices, the challenge for our children's lives may very well be access to the more fundamental component of which 70% of the earth and an even greater percentage of human bodies must be made--clean water. A few weeks after my camping trip with Earl U., I had a friend, Rick F., who scoffed at the water-scarcity concern. He said water is not going anywhere. No more or less of it is being made. It's just a matter of having the technology to clean it, and he says that such technology already exists and that it will only become more efficient and less expensive to clean water. I hope he's right. (My 10 year old daughter, out of the mouth of babes, said recently: "It makes no sense. Three-quarters of the earth is water. There is fire in the middle of the earth. Why doesn't the water put out the fire?")

May 12, 2007 - 84 CFS - Video of Channel - Camp to Iron Bridge

This video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSl7qf25kW8&mode=user&search= by Earl U. gives a glimpse of the fun when the river is low and all of it flows into a narrow channel. It looks like a slow ride from this angle but in the water itself it was an undeniable force and a lot of fun.

May 5, 2007 - Camp to Iron Bridge - 120 CFS - The 4 a.m. Go-To Guy, Pete

Pete will get up at 4 a.m. for a road trip and a kayak trip when, maybe, a few other folks might politely turn down the offer. He's a former runner who once ran 8 miles by himself and then happened upon a friend who was about to run 12, so he joined him and ended up at 20 miles without huffing or puffing about it. When our 3 & 1/2 year old son was in the hospital in 2004 for three weeks, Pete came by the hospital regularly. He could make our little boy laugh when he was weak and unable to eat.

Flowers on wet limestone - May 5, 2007 - 120 CFS

April 29, 2007 - Mike approaches the falls below 84 - 200 CFS

April 29, 2007 - Mike at dawn - 200 CFS - 7 to Camp

Mike got up at 4:30 a.m. for a run. Mike and I were in the river while the steam was rising and at one point we saw small vortexes of steam whisping from the river upward. A Pileated Woodpecker flew over the river during the run. Three hours of conversation with Mike is a good way to spend a Sunday morning. He's got a great sense of humor that doesn't translate well on paper ("I wonder what happened to the rest of that guy," he said, looking at a hat that flood waters had lodged high in a tree) and he has a lot of stories to tell. Mike ran a marathon once and finished in about 4:30 when his longest training run had been 12 miles. After this river run he was headed back to town to continue working on some type of floating island that he is building for the ducks at his pond, so they can survive the local wolves.

April 29, 2007 - It's blackberry picking time

Paul's fence line, near the river.

Tributary stream two car-widths wide and swiftly flowing - between the iron bridge and Bottle Creek - April 28, 2007

I saw this creek running beneath a bridge and stopped to walk down it (it was only knee deep) about 1/4 of a mile. It's kayakable. Here the sun is shining on the Cypress leaves and the Mountain Laurel flowers on the bank. It had both white and pink Mountain Laurels and an old Maytag dishwasher someone had thrown off the bridge into the water.

Turtleback Slide - 200 CFS - April 28, 2007

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its lovliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. (John Keats)

Autumn Ferns and trickle-in streams - R. Nix - 50 CFS - Camp to Iron Bridge

The river is a great place for relaxed conversation and R. Nix knows the art of story-telling and listening. But when passing a trickle-in stream, the conversation often fades away to awe at the amazing beauty of undefiled wilderness. Click on the photo for a better view.

Autumn drought beauty - 50 CFS - Camp to Iron Bridge

A week after this photo was taken, I returned to this spot on the river, eager to see it again. But the water had risen from 50 CFS to 100 CFS, and the channel had disappeared under smooth-flowing water. The ever changing level of the river gives beauty and takes it away. Another 50 CFS day will come this summer, and I hope to be sitting in a chair where I am standing in this photo, watching kids (and eventually adults) slide into this channel.

Autumn drought beauty - 50 CFS - Camp to Iron Bridge

The river was far below normal, revealing new topography. Click on the photo and check out the strange starfish like river bed. This is my friend R. Nix. This is the one time of the year that B. Melton will go to the river, and I'm hoping this photo will make him resolve to not miss a trip come November.

Fall 2006 - Experienced River Runner, The Walt-Man.

The main man Walt. Walt's knees have felt the need to breathe more freely out of every pair of pants he has.

Holly and Harper warm and dry

Harper is a fish. She was swimming in this water (briefly) in March, when most of the leaves were still buds on the trees. On this day she stayed dry.

It's a dog's life.

My dog Sopchoppy saw two deer on the banks this morning and got stirred up. She is named after a river in Florida.

Tyler on Easter Sunday 2007 - less than 300 CFS

On Easter morning, Tyler and I set out early in near freezing weather. Tyler had fallen into the river the day before (photo here) from a less stable sit-on-top, and the more I thought about it, the worse I felt. The next day I put him in a more stable sit-in kayak, and it suited him, because after an hour he was asking what kayak I thought would be right for him. I said he looked pretty comfortable in the boat he was sitting in, a 16 foot tandem, an Old Town Loon, with a rudder. It's an easy boat to navigate by oneself or with another rider up front. In swifter water you can drop the rudder and drive it with the foot pedals and pretty much forget paddling. Here Tyler has settled into the river state of mind.

What is this wild flower? It grows on bushes all along the banks.

It's not a wild azalea ("bush honeysuckle"). It's leaves are more like a Camellia. Double click on the photo and the flowers are cup-like. In late April-early May, there is a time when these cupped flowers fall into the river and float along beside the canoes and kayaks. We later learned: "The Mountain Laurel is perhaps the most beautiful of native American shrubs. Mountain Laurel, a Wildflower, is also the state flower of Connecticut. The Mountain Laurel plant was originally brought to Europe as an ornamental plant during the 18th century. Mountain Laurel is widely grown for its attractive flowers."

Richard and Tyler in cold water - If the weather has not reached 90 degrees, take extra clothes.

Paul Jr. is the one in the yellow boat, in dry pants, laughing. (click on photo to enlarge) The water was less than 70 degrees, which feels like ice compared to the coolness of a 70 degree room temperature. Cold water robs the body's heat 32 times faster than cold air. 99 times out of a 100, an extra change of clothes stuffed into a garbage bag, in a backpack, will go unused. But the 1 time it has to be used will make all the difference. Unfortunately this was that "1 time" out of 99. I felt bad about it because I had not told them to bring an extra set of clothes. Tyler and Richard had to paddle another 20 minutes, but that's a long time when you're soaking wet in cold wind. If we had been 2 hours out from a landing it would have been pretty miserable for them.

Sunday, April 15, 2007: 600 CFS 84 to Camp - Bo and Max

Bo crossing the shoals, which are submerged at 600 CFS. The run is done in less than two hours. The tributary streams which are usually enjoyed as small waterfalls dropping out of the woods are also submerged. This is the morning after a tornado. There are moderate sized trees sheared off along the banks. Winds continue at 20 - 30 MPH on this morning, making the trees alive and noisy throughout the run, but the river banks are high enough that the wind does not affect navigating the boats.

Wooden cog teeth - the old grindstone mill

Double click on the photo to see better detail.

To understand how the millstone or grindstone mechanics worked, click here.

Friday April 6, 2007: 450 CFS, Iron Bridge to Bottle Creek - Paul Sr, Desi, Desi Jr, Michael, Harper, Topie, Walt, Max

This 2.5 to 3.5 hour run includes the old mill. The mill damn has has withstood the engineering test of time. Its concrete bears shell fossils from the ancient river bed materials that were used to create the blocks of concrete. Year after year, decade after decade, the mill creek behind the dam becomes swollen with floodwaters from hurricanes, thunderstorms, and spring rains. The dam holds it all back. Today at 450 CFS, the mill creek between the dam and river is waist deep. The creek behind the dam is too deep for small children, but Desi, Sr. and Max pass the 4 children over the creek and we climb up to the grindstone at the top of the bank alongside the mill. This mill that provided grindstone to process the grains and corn for a long gone community. Double click the dam photo or the cog teeth photo for a detailed view. Rapids just past the mill are not difficult at 450 CFS. Harper, age 9, solos. Later we stop for lunch on the left bank at a point where the river bends sharp right and, on the left bank of that bend, there is a creek that flows over a cypress knees. Paul Sr finds a full deer skull with antlers that becomes the hood ornament for the canoe trailer. Paul believes the deer may have been fatally wounded by a hunter and instinctively ran toward the river, and died beside it. Wild azaleas are in full bloom. This river run has no development except the mill. Not one house. Not one deck. Once past the mill, you see what the Native Americans saw 1000 years ago.

So it goes: RIP - Kurt Vonnegut, 1922-2007

When the last living thing
has died on account of us,
how poetical it would be
if Earth could say,
in a voice floating up
perhaps
from the floor
of the Grand Canyon,
“It is done.”
People did not like it here.

April 14, 2007, 5:30 a.m. 100 CFS. 84 to Camp. Bo calls the turkeys.

Bo and Max put in at 5:30 a.m. Bo is a turkey hunter, and while we have no guns, he tells me that turkey hunting is not about the kill. It is about the hunt, and he can hunt them without a gun. Just into the run, in slight dawn light, we startle several several turkeys roosting in the limbs above the river. Bo has been calling turkeys since he was a young boy. He would go into his bedroom and practice for hours. He explains that the process of calling a turkey is an addictive sport because it is a reversal of nature. In nature a "Tom" or male turkey gobbles out and waits for the hens to come to him to mate. The turkey hunter reverses this process. He entices the Tom to seek out the hen. I am not a hunter. I killed my first deer with a Ford Taurus at the age of 30 plus. But I am interested in the stories of turkey hunters because their enthusiasm is infectious. My friend Melton, who is not with us this morning because he is undoubtedly somewhere in the woods calling turkeys, becomes weary at the end of hunting season becasue he says he cannot stop himself from rising each morning at 5 a.m. and heading out into the woods. On this windy morning, Bo has not raised a gobble out of a Tom, and he begins to question the credibility of any Tom that would not respond to a hen as good-looking as the hen sound he is making. Finally a turkey gobbles. Bo is done calling. Later into the run, a large turkey flies out of a pine tree which towers above the river. The bird is so big it seems unnatural that it can fly. These animals are majestic. Benjamin Franklin recommended that the turkey be made the national symbol, but the eagle was chosen instead (read Franklin's letter to his daughter by clicking here).

Easter 2007, 7 a.m., 32 degrees: 250 CFS - 84 to Camp Landing

Tyler passes through the falls in a 16 foot tandem without difficulty, in middle of left half of river. Max and his dog are in another 16 foot tandem. This water level exposes many sandstone banks and tributary creeks. We see two deer, a beaver, two baby ducks less than fist size, and a Blue Heron. Wild azaleas are in full bloom.

April 7, 2007: 350 CFS - North Camp to 84 - Optimum Wild Azaleas ("Bush Honeysuckle")

Paul Jr., Tyler, and Robert have never been kayaking. Still, this territory is nothing new to them; they have been hunting on the banks of this river since they were boys, and now they are college students studying forestry. They are up at 4:30 a.m. calling turkeys in the woods. They return to the camphouse at 8:00 a.m. and allow themselves to be talked into a river run with assurances that they will not get wet. This is an early morning run, and it is wintery cold. The rapids are tame at 350 CFS, and Tyler and Robert make it through all three sets on a tandam Sea Kayak without any problem. Then they enter nearly dead calm, deep water, relax, and do not see the keel of the boat rising up slightly on submered log. In slow motion they roll over into the cold water. They are good sports while Paul Jr. compliments them on their paddling skills. The wild azaleas (bush honeysuckle) are in full bloom. In a week these flowers will lose color and wilt.

Mill Creek south of Iron Bridge

April 19, 2007: 950 CFS - North Camp to 84 Bridge - Kingfisher bird

A turtle is laying her eggs in a hole dug in the sandy backwoods road leading down to the landing. The river flowers are abundant. Two ducks fly upriver over us, darting outside the river path to avoid flying over us, then back into the river path. A Blue Heron flies out of the edge of the rapids. A Kingfisher flies upriver. A larger animal is crackling through the leaves on the bank. It is finally warm enough (near 90 degrees) for the turtles to sun on the river logs. The rapids on this run at 950 CFS slosh some water into the 16 foot tandems during a middle approach to the last set of rapids. A small jon boat is headed up river and it is Derek F., John M. and a friend. The jon boat is unable to navigate the rapids. In warmer swimming water, this 950 CFS level will be ideal for small children on sit-on-tops or tubes. Later in the summer we should tow tubes by kayaks down to the rapids, then allow the kids to tube through them.