Re: [Paddlewise] Ahhhh, water time... trip report or sun-burned ramblings ?

From: <gpwecho_at_juno.com>
Date: Mon, 17 Jul 2000 15:12:14 -0500
PaddleWisers...

A recent weekend brought an end to my *paddler's drought* so I thought
I'd share it with you.  Making my garden bigger this year seemed to be
the start of things that have kept me off the water much more than I
like.  There have been a few overnight camps to somewhere, but my spring
and summer paddling time is down quite a bit.

Daughter 1of3 and her husband were released from USMC and decided to
leave Calif for Austin, TX instead of the Washington state area, which is
where he is from.  ( ...hey, DAVE K, it looks like I'll have to figure
out another way to visit up there ! )  Their apartment wasn't ready so
they decided to spend a few days here in sunny, sweltering, sweating,
sunburned Louisiana.  The promise of numerous fresh veggie suppers may
have had something to do with their visit, along with the promise that,
yes, we would spend as much time on the water as they wanted ....YES, my
kind of promise !!

FRIDAY afternoon found us putting in on Cheniere Lake at a landing not
far from where these two "kids" were married a quick 2 years ago at the
lodge there.  I finished up work early so we could be on the water by 4
pm or so, and we planned to stay out and watch sunset.  The "kids" seem
happy and are having fun; already kicking and splashing water at each
other while I unbuckle straps and untie rope.  I make a note to myself to
stay close to them, as I have this mental image of an impending canoe
capsize.    

We head south as we leave the landing and I tell the "kids" to keep a
visual on the shore, wear your PFD, a heads-up about dead snags, stumps
and snakes, and ask if they have their drinking water and their
sunscreen, and ....Geez, a Marine Sargeant and a daughter that NEVER DID
listen to me about ANYTHING,  and I'm still acting like  ....well, you
parents out there will understand, I think.  We paddleout past a full
complement of pier-sitters actively putting worms on hooks and
repetitively pulling palm sized bream and perch from the dark, clear
tannin steeped lakewater.  There are narrow, poorly marked boat channels
braiding Cheniere, but we will follow the shore around toward more open
water a couple miles away.  The tall cypress with their long, trailing
locks of spanish moss offer a blessed welcome retreat from the merciless
sun that hammers all outdoors here during a Louisiana summer.  A slight
wind rustles through this dimly lit shaded cypress cathedral and sends a
cool shiver down one shoulder and across my back.  The "kids" are in my
old 169 and seem to be moving quite well, threading a smooth path at an
easy pace around the many trees in this part of the lake.  It is actually
quite thick here with mostly tupelo gum and cypress.  Your line of sight
is pretty limited and your perspective changes quickly as you move
forward through the watery patchwork of irregularly placed trees ...some
quite large, some fairly small, and some almost brushlike with topknots
of green spouting up out of the dark water.  I am in a Spectrum, a
poly-kayak which I have come to like on these somewhat restricted waters
that comprise much of my local paddling.  The "kids" appear to be doing
fine, so I tell them let's head off this direction toward a more open
area.  I haven't been out here lately, and want to try and find a
particular spot to watch the sunset.

As we move further from the bank the water deepens and becomes less
cluttered.  We pass quietly and close beneath a noisy pileated woodpecker
hammering away for supper, or nest, or who knows what against a smooth,
slick, gray shaft of straight-standing tree trunk.  We watch and listen
for quite some time.  It sure gives meaning to the phrase "hard as
woodpecker lips".

 A mean looking moccasin stares back defiantly ...my log, stay away, he
seems to say, and stands his ground as the 2 boats glide silently pass. 
A pair of 3 foot tall, dark blue-black anhingas squawk disgustedly at
being roused from their seats in their cathedral.  They look like
bookends come to life as they move  low across the water in a gangly,
disjointed manner trying desperately, it seems, to remember how to fly. 
As they gain speed their actions become more smooth, their wing beats
more regular.  Their long wings finally cup full billows of air, and they
rise steadily upward.  A practiced stall with air speed zero, and a quick
high-wire balancing act puts one of the birds at ease near the top of a
nearby snag.  The other one disappears just over the tree tops, his faint
raspy squawk barely audible now in the lengthening shadows.  A stronger
spiff of breeze blows through and we all sway ...trees, moss, canoe, and
kayak ....Ahhhh, water time !

SATURDAY comes early.  We want to catch sunrise up on D'Arbonne Bayou. 
Daughter 1of3 decides to not go about 5 minutes before the bus cranks to
life with its constant cargo of paddles, PFD's, a PFB ( ...that's
PanicFoodBox, folks ), a canoe on the top basket rack, a kayak inside
except for 3 feet of stern, rope, water, straps, several types of stove,
several types of lantern, camp gear, tents, tarps, more rope, ax,
firegrill, bowsaw, maps, first aid box, sleeping bags, pads, a hammock, a
machete, fly rod, bungie cord, candles, dutch oven, various packs, coffee
pot, TP, a pack frame, fat-pine kindling, hiking boots, sandals, rain
gear, cold weather gear, dry clothes, dry bags, etc etc etc.  I've
probably got it, but it may take a while to find it.  My '78 VW bus is a
vital part of my river and camp life that never knows whether it is going
on a 2 week expedition, or a 2 hour get-away.    Today will be short as
far as paddling time goes.  But now we are on our way in the relative
cool of a pre-dawn morning.  The air feels super funneling across my arm
and face at 50 mph.  This will change drastically within the next 2-3 
hours.

It is only a 20 minute drive and I decide to go to the lower of 2
landings available on the western side of a 4000 acre piece of open water
that is part of a much larger area which is now a national wildlife
refuge.  Ooops ...the headlights point out water over the road and the
bus comes hard to a semi-sliding stop.  Rising water has closed the lower
landing and we have to back up for almost a half mile to use the upper. 
We haven't had rain and I am wondering why the water is up this far at
this time of the year ...strange.    

The two of us decide to paddle tandem in the canoe and set a quick pace
heading due east with almost 3 miles of open water ahead.  The sky is
still dark, but now has the appearance of dark slate instead of onyx. 
There is a very dim, faint glow to a patch of sky at the horizon dead
ahead.  The water isn't truly open as there are numerous willows which
delineate slight channels that meander spaghetti like across this entire
area.  Some years it may dry up completely here leaving huge cracks in
the earth that will swallow a boot and twist an ankle.  This year we have
water aplenty and with strong synchronized strokes I am enjoying tandem
paddling ...something I hardly ever do anymore.  I am in the stern and
can appreciate the presence of a comfortable, knowledgable bow-man.  The
canoe moves straight and fast.  We experiment with a cadenced 3 stroke
and a timed pause thrown in ....marvelous, I think.

The sun is now the top half of a blood-red semi-circle growing larger as
we watch  ...a perfect arc that hangs muted and filtered and shrouded
behind a low bank of thick gray swaddling directly in front of us.  The
air is calm and relatively cool at 70 F.  The scene is picture perfect. 
Egrets are taking flight off to the right and moving across our path
about 100 yards ahead.  There are flights of 3 and 4, then 10 to 20, and
within minutes the sky is filled with hundreds, then thousands.  Snow
white birds are literally filling the sky from the indistinctly lit water
below.  There is no bird noise whatsoever of the usual squawking or
chirping.  Instead, the only sound we hear is the exceptionally loud rush
of a magic, swirling wind that flows over thousands of muscles that flex
sinew, bone, and feather to heave large birds into flight all around us. 
  ...Ahhhh, water time !

SUNDAY we all sleep in.  We had played cards until late into the wee
hours, telling bad jokes, and making dumb finesse moves.  No one wanted
to rouse early.  I make coffee and biscuits, and review my map.  Looking
at this map several weeks ago, I noticed a small blue-line near a local
state park that I have overlooked all my life.  It parallels a larger
bayou that I have been on a few times.  This small side channel will be
the object of our search later today.  We have not had rain, so there
will be no current.  A short upstream section is planned to eliminate a
shuttle.  And with the forecast at 30% for a thundershower we are
foolishly optimistic about the afternoon heat.

Smooth, deep, dark water is partially covered over here and there with a
foot thick floating carpet of lush, emerald green tufts and pads that
bulge out from both banks.  Purple blooms in profusion scent the still
air with a sweet, somehow comforting aroma.  A close treeline of
monster-sized cypress reaches high above and throws welcome unobstructed
shade across half the bayou.  The rumor of "old-growth" cypress may
perhaps be true.  However, it is still quite hot with no breeze stirring.
 We follow the shaded bank of what surprises me to be a wide channel.  I
was expecting something much narrower.  We follow the back-and-forth of
water at work in long lazy meanders.  Bend after bend, the heat, the
humidity, the white-noise of a million cicadas and crickets, the
mesmerizing form of bow pushing endlessly through smooth water, the easy
physical movement of swinging a paddle  ...for about 2 hours it seems we
are hypnotized and no one hardly says a word.  Then, we find an odd
structure for such an out of the way place.  Our channel gathers and
narrows and seems to disappear into a low gap in the dense treeline not
far ahead.

We find out from the Ranger later, that yes, this is indeed the blue-line
I wanted.  A back-dam had been constructed many years ago to form this
water we had been on.  Chemin-a-Haut Bayou must have enough water to flow
over the small upper control structure and enter a contained pool.
Another elevation change at the lower end of this pool allows flow on
into Bayou Bartholomew.  Pretty neat stretch of water control here with
nice results.  Some bayou projects around here have ended looking like
some dragline nightmare ...an open canal with straight line torrential
runoff, huge spoilbank levees, no trees, and all the allure of a
neighborhood drainage ditch !

We clamber out of the boats and climb across a neat rock dam and survey a
dark, backwater creek twisting its way out of sight into the shaded,
bottomland hardwoods.  It looks interesting with full canopy tree cover,
a tight channel, and steep natural banks.  A complete run through here
from a bridge put-in 7 miles north will have to be made later this winter
 ...when there is more water, and more importantly when the "air
conditioner" gets fixed !  There is also another bridge take-out 5 miles
below where we started today.  This little blue-line is looking better by
the minute.

The paddleout seemed shorter than coming in.  On the way back the canoe
is "bumped" several times by what turns out to be a pesky alligator.  It
was an interesting encounter as the "kids" were swapping seats in the
canoe without putting to ground.  At first they thought I was bumping
them with my paddle in jest.  The story ends well as no one got wet ...or
bitten !  I will say that I was NOT at all frightened  ...mostly because
Eye WAS NOT in the canoe !  But, I must admit that I am not at all at
ease with an alligator as that close a paddling companion !  We report
this incident to the Ranger later and he says there are 3 or 4 males in
there that are going to have to be relocated.  He says some people have
been feeding them.  He laughs heartily at my suggestion of what to do
with those caught feeding the gators.  I won't repeat what I suggested be
done, and he probably won't actually do it either.  Too bad !

...adieu, mes amies  ...Peyton  (Louisiana) 

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Received on Mon Jul 17 2000 - 15:55:18 PDT

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