I drove down a nearly empty Rte 66 early on Sunday, breaking through patches of fog, the sun dragging itself up from the horizon, seemingly as tired as myself. But today was going to be a fun day, the yearly tradition of myself, Emily and Margie meeting up to paddle at Pohick Bay. Big Red was still at home. I'd attempted to patch a small leak but my poor back, still recovering from Friday's weeding marathon, would not bend adequately for me to seal the leak and load the boat onto the car. So I'd be hiring a boat today. I also left my camera at home. Last year I had tipped out of my boat and dunked my nearly new compact Canon camera, which had never worked since then. Today would be iPhone photos only.
Emily and I both rented our kayaks and began paddling along the shoreline to meet Margie and load our boats with provisions for the day. This was my first time using a sit-on kayak, rather than one with a cockpit, and I wasn't initially keen on the prospect, but I had to admit after a while that it was actually quite comfortable. Plenty of leg and wiggle room, and easy to reach storage bays which I could strap a cooler on plus still have room up front for drinks and my waterproof bag.
The weed was thick on the water. We spoke with a couple who had been here the previous day at the same time, who were dismayed with the hard paddling. Apparently yesterday there had been hardly any weed. It was as if overnight someone had hauled in a lengthy blanket of weed to cover as much of the water as possible. Every paddle that dipped into the water came up with a clump of heavy greenery trailing down; it was a good workout. A turnout of terns sat on a rotten branch poking up through the weed, ospreys were nesting in dead tree tops, none of them interested in the man made wooden platforms that had been recently erected, egrets stood silent and tall, brilliant white against the lush greens. Through the course of the day, we spotted grey and green herons hurriedly flapping away from us, a bald eagle soaring directly above in an azure sky, and flocks of red wing blackbirds chattering loudly as they rustled through the tall reeds.
We were pleased to make it past the point where we stopped for the whole day last year, about 15 mins from the beach, and slowed to admire the tall rice grass and pickerel flowering among the lily pads. I love the pickerel plant with its beautiful veined leaves and butterfly attracting blooms. Because they'd made a memorable impression after seeing them here, I had bought a plant last year for my own pond at home.
Just around the corner I spotted a water snake coiled on a shaded patch of damp mud. He glared at me in disgust for a few seconds and then proceeded to slide off, rather haughtily I thought, into the water to find a more private spot. The sun was beating down and Margie thought it was about time for a beverage. Emily and I hooted in agreement so we moored up under a shady tree on the edge of the creek.
We sat for hours under our tree, chatting, eating and drinking. Emily attempted to get out of her boat and ended up tipping over completely. Like last year her car keys dropped to the creek floor, but were retrieved safely. I joined her in the water, it felt wonderful, a slow cool current brushing against our legs. A small handful of people passed by but for most of the day we had our little spot to ourselves, only disturbed by two industrious otters who were building a nest, swimming back and forth to a bank close by with their mouths full of twigs. The clouds were huge, fluffy and gleaming white, yet I noticed some were becoming grey as they drifted over, and as more time passed passed they turned dark grey and hung lower. I'd heard what I thought was thunder a few times earlier yet we'd dismissed it as the nearby military base running an exercise or a distant quarry setting off explosives. The weather had been bright and glorious then but now it was changing, the sun constantly ducking behind metal grey clouds. We welcomed the break from the hot sun and decided to paddle more upstream.
We'd only paddled for a few minutes before the rain came down. Softly at first but soon a crescendo of water droplets pounding the creek, creating huge bubbles that floated and burst as they passed. It was exhilarating and refreshing. We were wet already from being in the water earlier so this was now fun. Thunder crashed overhead and apprehension set in when we saw a few lightning strikes. After about 20 minutes or so we decided to turn back since really, this wasn't safe to be out here on the water with lightning.
We battled through the weed, not seeing a single soul out in kayaks, we had the place to ourselves. A rainbow crested the lake while rain continued to fall ahead of us. But on the bank it was dry. Emily's boat looked like a floating skip, I had to laugh, yet these sit-on kayaks have plenty of room and were great for maneuvering. The storm had passed by the time we'd got Margie's boat on her car and returned our hired ones. A beautiful sunset had turned the sky to peach, banishing the angry clouds and painting them blush. Time to sit on a bench for another beverage and admire our surroundings before the long drive home.
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