Spring into Activity

Summer is here, at last, the rains have subsided and the air is getting warmer. As we climb into the back half of June, I find myself wondering - jimi-nee, is it really over three months since I blogged anything?

Previously, on Kayak Cowgirl:

The pool programs finished up. For the second year running I've taught at the winter pool program operated in Dobbs Ferry by Matt Kane at Prime Paddlesports. I had a good range of students, from beginners to improvers, working on everything from basic forward and turning strokes to re-discovering their roll. I came to look forward to those Sunday drives up the parkways, with one or more boats on my car.

I paddled on a very windy day with Kayak Dov in Jamaica Bay, in March. I don't have any photos handy but, I recall Dov saying he wasn't looking for conditions, but rather wanted to scout the area for an IDW he was teaching. We arrived on a day with F5-F6 winds, overcast, and a very strong ebb tide rushing past Bennett Field. We took a look-sea and decided, "hey, why not?" It was a fun, if robust paddle.

April was kind of a wash. Literally. It rained a lot, (shocking, I know), and was windy, and overcast, and just generally not a pleasant month for paddling. According to my paddling log, I got out once, with some friends out of Inwood to Mitsuwa market..

Then in May, Mister Cowgirl and I took a holiday to Scotland, the isle of Skye, where we paddled with a certain famous sea kayaking coach . . .but that will be a bit before I finish writing. Over the two days we paddled, we played in a tidal strait called Kylerhea, and paddled around some skerries near Armadale.

Yours Truly, so happy to help carry boats.

Posing on the water near Armadale ferry.

Literally just happy to be here! Near the Glenelg ferry.

The ferry in that last was fascinating to the Mister and myself. The paddling was quite nice too! And yes, I got some tips from the famous sea kayaking coach.

It's been non-stop since then.

At the "Sebago Season Opener" interclub racing event Memorial Day Weekend, I placed first in the Womens 100m! Third in the 400m and 800m. This was all in a field of three.

Ribbons for All!

What can I say, I'm a sprinter. Though, actually, in past events I've usually done best in the 400 - the 100 warms me up, and the 800 I just peter out on the return leg.

Then there was a whitewater trip with Mister Cowgirl and friends. We paddled the upper and lower Esopus, near Phoenicia, New York. These are Class II rapids, with a couple of Class III features along the way. I paddled the lower half last year; this year, I did the whole thing.

Kayak and Mister Cowgirl, together on the trail.

My WW Canoe friend LB, finishing some rapids.

A Bald Eagle.

The weekend after that, I took some boats out to Long Island to demonstrate. Rebel Kayaks. These are performance boats in the Greenland style - popular with rollers and other traditional skills enthusiasts. Kayak Dov sells them in NewYork and New Jersey.

The Paddle Wagon with a Husky on top.

Plus, I got to paddle a bit in a Long Island harbor and catch up a group calling themselves "Small Craft Advisory" .Rough water and surf enthusiasts!

Finally, just last weekend, I taught a class at Lake Sebago, hauling four boats there and back, borrowing two more, and teaching a great group of beginners some of the fundamentals of paddling, bracing, and incident management.

Ducklings, all in a row.

So, now you're caught up! I promise to write more about my trip to Scotland, which several people have asked about. I expect to paddle whitewater again this weekend (June 23) as well. And, for sure, the summer really gets into gear by July, starting with the Hudson Valley Paddlesports Symposium July 6-8.

Mixing it Up

A friend of mine passed along a good deal on a whitewater boat recently, including matching spraydeck and a one-piece paddle, slightly feathered. I had to drive a bit out of my way to pick it up, and suffered a biblical deluge of rain on the way home, but I did get the boat, a Liquid Logic Remix 59.

I've only done white water paddling a couple of times. The first, a few years ago, when I was first starting to paddle a bit more seriously and learned a friend at work was into kayaking - but only whitewater. He invited me along to do a stretch of the Lehigh near Jim Thorpe, with a class he was assisting with, and it was eye-opening.

Moderately Terrifying is the way I would have put it at the time. I paddled like a sea kayaking - charging through and over waves, trying hard to resist the instinct the edge to the outside of turns, rather than to edge downstream. In whitewater, always edge downstream.

A couple of years ago I started dating a paddler, one who does whitewater, and in short order learned we had mutual friends, including two women who paddle whitewater canoe. So, once again in a borrowed boat, I paddled part of the upper Delaware river, this time with a few more years overall paddling experience, including some time in big, dynamic water.

The very weekend I bought the Remix, my friend LB was taking another group down that same stretch of water on the Delaware. As white water goes, it's pretty easy, with a couple of interesting pieces, but mostly just a steady flow of water to practice boat control in. We drove up past Port Jervis and lower the boats to the water's edge, and in short order, we were off.

Ready on Deck.

Most of the Delaware looks like this here.

LB paddling her canoe.

But parts of it get a little perky.

Fellow instructor C paddling his canoe.

As we proceeded, we stopped and played around various rocks and wave trains. There is a spot that has a drop with a funnel next to it, and we practiced eddy work there.

Further down, there's the "Mongaup Wave", where the Mongaup river roars in almost perpendicular to the Delaware, and rather steeply, with a tall cliffside opposite. Where the waters converge is a long and strong wave train, with narrow eddies along the side. We played there for a bit. The Remix surfed well against the waves, but it was hard to attain against them.

We did have one mishap, easily recovered. One of the newer paddlers lost her balance against a rock and fell in, but was easily recovered in the next eddy. While that was going on, LB and I took turns surfing a small wave a little ways down.

Smiles.

At the end, we were supposed to rendezvous with a group that had done the Mongaup run, but there was some confusion about where to meet. They're suppose to come here, each group thought, at their respective take-outs. Eventually two emissaries from the other group arrived, right as we were about to head to them.

The Remix is a fun boat to paddle. I even took a roll in it at the end - not as graceful in a sea kayak, but do-able. I need to practice more. It's super-stable and very snug. The spraydeck is a bit tight, but hopefully it will stretch out a bit the more I use it.

Winter Bluebird Day

Mr. Cowgirl's new drysuit came in, and we were itching to try it out on the water. Fortunately, yours truly had been organizing a day trip for that very weekend, and so we set out early in the morning for the Inwood Canoe Club.

Our plan was to head out to North Brother Island, or Randalls Island if we were running late.
No one else could make it, so it was just the two of us, and after kitting and fitting, we set out: up the Hudson to Spuyten Duyvil, down the Harlem, through the Bronx Kill, then out around the Brothers.

Passing Fort Washington.

A cooler hat near Swindlers Cove.

A curious structure atop a barge.

There were several signs of new construction along the Harlem, in particular the waterfront of Roberto Clemente Park and, in the South Bronx, new buildings and the refurbishing of old buildings.

In just under two hours, we arrived at the Bronx Kill, turning left to head down it, and saw a newly-built, not-occupied building on the Bronx side, and a fancy pile driver on Randals Island.

Pilin' for what?

The eastern end of the Bronx Kill is one of my favorite waterborne views in the city. I've been here at sunrise, watching pink clouds turn to orange and then yellow, and on overcast days when the entire world might as well be the sea between Queens and the Bronx. Even on a day like today, however, sunny and bright, the breadth of the view was amazing.

Mr. Cowgirl takes in the view.

What lies beyond?

We had a quick snack of cashews and raisins, as we took in the traffic.

First, there was a large barge being pushed southbound to the gate (Hell Gate, that it - we were just north of it). Then we saw a small barge emerge from the gate and head, curiously, between the Brothers - an unusual route because it's narrow and about a third as deep as the main channel around North Brother Island.

But then, we saw an even more interesting sight, and overheard a securite on the radio: a Rheinauer tug pushing a barge up from the gate, with another tug right by it. About half a mile behind it was another barge.

We decided to head north along the Bronx shore, wait for these two vessels to pass, and then look to make our crossing where we wouldn't be in a blind corner.

Ships go in.

Ships come out.

But then, we saw what the first two tugs were up to. The captain announced he'd make a "left wheel" about 400 yards, and what he meant was that we was making a U-turn between North Brother and the Bronx, and his fellow tug acted to push the vessel sideways.

This kinda made sense because, while we were close to slack tide, there was still some current, and for a barge to be pushed from one end would have made a very difficult turn-in-place. So, the second barge pushed from the side, helping her pivot to face south, and then get pushed into place in order to dock along the Bronx shore.

As this was starting to happen, I radioed the skipper, paraphrased as follows:

KC: Rheinauer, Rheinauer, this is Kayak Two just south of you, across from the Brothers. Capain, do you need us to move?
Tug: Who is this, Kayak Two?
KC: Yep Kakak Two. Near the Bronx Kill.
Tug: I don't see you.
KC: [waves paddle]
Tug: Oh, there you are. No you're not in my way, but that one coming from your right is headed there.
KC: OK, thanks. Over and out.

"We're crossing now," I said. I put out a short securite just to let everyone know our intentions, and we headed towards North Brother, the first tugs making their little turn maneuver, and the other one I'd spotted adjusting course clearly to its port - that is, towards where we had just left and not where we were.

I don't mean to belabor radio communications, but when they work they can save a lot of grief and uncertainty. I'd rather ask someone what they're up to than guess. I also have to say, tug skippers are among the most professional and straightforward I've dealt with on the radio.

After we crossed, I announced we were done and would be out of the channels, and said thanks to the captains, and got a "thank you" in return. Fuzzies on the Radio!

Our Rheinauer friend completing her maneuver.

A short break. Manhattan in the far background.

At this point we started around North Brother Island. I've been out this way a couple of times before, in 2012 and 2015. (OMG, have I really been blogging about kayaking that long?) So I'll recap succinctly by saying it's one of the most tragically-storied islands in NYC, Typhoid Mary and General Slocum, abandoned ruins, not allowed to land.

The old plant.

"Ruins" on the chart.

The old ferry dock.

The caretaker's house.

Channel marker 9.

Bird Sanctuary

"It's one of the spookiest islands," said Mr. Cowgirl - right as a bird of prey's piercing shriek let loose across the cold, hollow water.

The bird screamed again, and again, and we spotted it: a hawk, maybe a falcon, perched in the empty branches of the island's trees. Top left-ish of the following picture.

Where's the bird?

At this point we joked that if we were in a horror movie, the audience would be screaming at us to paddle faster. But, you know, in horror movies people can't know what to do. What if paddling faster just meant a jump-cut to use paddling into a shark's mouth?

Also, zombies may not swim, but they can wade.

We continued on our way, clockwise, coming around the southern side. Here we could take in the view of the famous Hell Gate bridge, as well as Manhattan, in the distance.

 New York City: a nice place to live.

I was also please to see something still standing, which I spotted back in 2014 on a trip out to Flushing: A tv and chair. "An Eames Chair," speculated the Mr.

What I like about the following photo is the doubt-reflection of the kayak's tail end.

Hmmmmmm........

In short order,  we set out our return, observing our tug friends were where we left them. The wind had picked up just a little bit, and veered a but to a more westerly direction. Where we'd been a tad too warm on the outbound leg, we were now just right - and when we stopped for a quick bio-break in the Kill, we got shilled right quick.

Farewell North Brother. Our Rheinauer friend heads home.

We were in the Bronx Kill at a time I've rarely been at, early enough in the tidal cycle that there was still some depth, but late enough that there was a strong eddy at the spot where it becomes a rapid. We played a bit with some peelouts and eddy turns.

At one point, a sizable wave train stood up. It was starting to disappear by the time I snapped this photo, but was quite fun - especially since it popped up while we were trying reverse peelouts !

Love Train. . .Freight Train . . .Wave Train.

The paddle back up the Harlem was uneventful. At Spuyten Duyvil, we tried playing with the eddy currents there as well, but they weren't quite as well-defined as in the Kill. After five hours out, with only a short shore break, we were ready to head in, where we cleaned up and put away - but not before encountering Inwood's resident paddleboarder on the water, and another club member who'd just come back from paddling to Yonkers.

Nuclear Kayaking.

I do like this last image though. The entire day was very sunny, so many of my photos had intense lense flare. Add onto that a wet outer lens cover, and I can assure you that there are many more surreal photos in the Cowgirl's library than you'll see online.

We stopped by for a pint at the local pub where our fellow club member was having a get-together with friends (birthday and welcome-to-the 'hood). When we got home, we both were ready to crash out - suddenly our all-day paddle caught up to us physically.

North Brother Island is one of my favorite places to paddle to, even without getting out there. I hope I'll get out there more often.

Drysuit in June

I wore my drysuit today. It was a little overkill, but at times I am glad I had it and not a wetsuit or simple drytop. As I write this, it's June, which - why the heck would I wear a drysuit in June?

Whitewater.

AP, my friend from work, is a whitewater guy. While I'm a sea kayak girl, we get on and geek out over boats and maneuvers and equipment. AP is a member of a club that has a lot of activities, whitewater among them, and he invited me along on a beginner course near Jim Thorpe, PA.

A few words about Jim Thorpe: Every Okie, such as the cowgirl, knows two superstars from Oklahoma, Jim Thorpe and Will Rogers. Thorpe was an all-around athlete who went to school near the Lehigh Valley. The town changed is name in an effort to become a Jim Thorpe tourist destination. That's how Jim Thorpe, an Okie, got his name on a Pennsylvania river town.

These were Class 1 rapids - relatively easy, benign. When I first saw the waters, I thought, easy, no problem. I could plow right through them in the Argonaut. Then I realized I would be in much shorter, flatter boats.

We started with a stay-and-play - we  passed under a railroad bridge, and tried surfing back in current. I practiced my roll, but when I needed it I flubbed it. I swam twice, making it to a small island where I dumped water and looked back.

The main trouble I was having was that my instincts are wrong. In sea kayaking, you edge away from the direction you want to turn. In whitewater, you edge towards the turn - and more importantly, always edge away from the current. After some practice though, I got the hang of it and was able to ferry across current.

After that, we went on a float (I don't know what else to call it - we drove someplace, put in, and went with the current). That was actually nice - and terrifying. The current does not stop. You will have to decide, very quickly, how to manage obstacles, find the path, find the eddy, and turn out.

So, I did that. At first, I plowed through everything. I barreled past the leader. I just went straight through, as if I were in some harbor chop. Eventually, I was told: don't.

Glide. One difference between the two sports is that in sea kayaking, the paddler powers through obstacles, or maneuvers the boat to ease them. In whitewater, the river is the power. The paddler is just maneuvering to take advantage of that power.

We went through several rapid. One in particular was very dramatic - a churn of water against a wall on the left, with relative calm on the right. At another spot, we had a sharp turn in the river, requiring us to turn sharply and take shelter in an eddy. I had no trouble, but it was a blind corner, meaning I made that turn not knowing exactly where I would land.

Our canoeist was amazing to watch, and the more experienced whitewater paddlers were pretty amazing as well, rolling in current, which I did not try. I did practice my roll, but I need to do more of that before I'm confident doing that in conditions.

All in all, it was a pleasant outing, and a real departure from my regular work. I learned a few things that would come in handy in sea kayaking, as well as new things unique to whitewater.