#SundayPaddle: Almost to the River Raisin

I sit here writing this post with my bare feet up in a recliner with Neosporin on the cuts on my feet. They sting. It really was a good day, though, with some panic thrown in.

To understand how I got here, I’ll start from the beginning. The last time we camped at Sterling State Park in late August, I put my kayak in at the boat ramp and then paddled through the lagoons and down the canal next to the campground. Bill was going to meet me on the beach where the canal met Lake Erie. I paddled past a campsite with a path down the canal. OMG! Later that day we walked down to see which campsite it was, and the friendly camper occupying it let us walk to the water to check it out. When we got home, I booked it for this weekend.

Heaven!

So today after breakfast, we pulled my boat down the path to the water. The riverbank is pretty much all clay (this will be important later) so I threw my flip flops in the boat to avoid getting them stuck, I got in and Bill pushed me off.

I paddle down the canal to the first lagoon, which I’d been before. I was met with continual splashes, all around me. Fish jumping, everywhere, and from what I can see, big fish. One of them jumped right in front of me and thumped the bottom of my boat. I had my GoPro camera recording, but it didn’t capture everything up close.

Speaking of GoPro, I was over the top excited to try out The Handler, a floating hand grip to record underwater footage.

I’ve been holding my Hero Session underwater in death grip, terrified that I’d lose it. However, once I was out on the water, it was too murky to see anything. I continued today to just record from the clip on my life vest.

Today I paddled down the canal leading beyond the lagoon to the south, a section I hadn’t been before. I hung a left in between some dead trees to check out another body of water, by the Ford Raisin River Warehouse. The water was as smooth as glass!

I paddled to the far end to a railroad trestle, and sat for a while soaking up the sun on this cloudless day.  I thought I heard a whistle, and waited to see if a train would come by. None came. Not sure where I was exactly, I opened Google Maps to satellite view and took a screen shot. I got up close to the trestle, and saw that there was space on either side to paddle under it, but beyond it was another bridge that was way too low. Or the water was too high. So that was the end of the line for me.

While I was there, I did grab this cool photo of dead tree that ironically resembles a fish!

On my way back, I scooped up a few floating beer cans and a Styrofoam cup.  No sooner than I got the cans in the boat that it’s inhabitant, a HUGE spider, started crawling towards me. I grabbed my paddle and neutralized the threat. This is what I get for being a good Samaritan?  For the love of God.

Onward.  I’m now looking for a good spot to pull over. Across the lake and through the dead tree passage, I spot an open area with a gravel path leading down to the water. I approach it, and it’s rocky. And slippery. And there is clay.

I carefully get out of my boat after paddling parallel to the shoreline. I pull it up the steep, rocky embankment and continue up the hill.

I reach the top and hear a rumble. To my horror, I turn back and see my boat slide down the embankment with such force that by the time I make it back down the slope, my boat is at least 15 feet from shore, in the middle of the canal.

Nice.

I have my paddle, life vest, GoPro and sunglasses.  My shoes and phone are in the boat. No one is around. No boats, no kayakers, no one on the water who could push it back to me.  $#$%@!@#$

I take off my FitBit, toss it into the grass next to my sunglasses, and go in. I carefully step across the underwater rocks, barefoot, because my shoes are in the boat. It drops off fast and soon I am swimming out to my runaway boat in water over my head. My feet are stinging. Great.

Grabbing the handle on the bow, I tow it back to shore and once again, pull it up the embankment. I must now reach the rest of my gear that I left on shore with one hand while holding on to the boat with the other, and then carefully get back in without another disaster.

I gather up everything and settle back. Blood is running from cuts on both my feet that I don’t even remember getting. I’m reminded of a time, at this same park 35 years ago, that I cut my foot badly on the shoreline at our old campsite. My foot slid in the slippery clay, against a buried rock. Man, did it bleed.

So now I’m back in my boat, pouring bottled water from my cooler over my feet, and taking in what just happened. Good God. I’m very thankful, however, that there wasn’t really a current.

I’m about twenty minutes from camp when Bill texts me and asks if I checked the weather. I check my phone and the radar looks clear. Until about ten minutes into the return trip when I hear thunder. I look back onto dark clouds. Ugh.

I make it back to camp in plenty of time. In looking at the screen shot I took, I learn that I was on the other side of the train trestle from the River Raisin, near the turning basin. How awesome would it have been to see a freighter up close!

After dinner I went back out for just a short time while the sun set. The lake was much calmer than the last time and I went out just a bit farther to see what was on the other side of the tree lined canal.  Sandy beaches, but the red flags in the water told me to put it in reverse.

Back down the canal I went one last time for the day (it was so peaceful, I did not want to come in just yet!) and came upon a flock of white birds that looked to be suspended over the water. This wasn’t a section I had paddled through today, so there must have been a fallen tree that they were perched on.

Rather than instigate an Alfred Hitchcock moment, I turned around and headed back to camp, as I was losing daylight.

I had a great day on the water, despite the band aids and slight panic attack.

🙂