Twenety six miles–Oof

My arms feel kind of dead, but not terrible. I did 26 miles round trip today, with some nasty currents and wind tossed in. I think the effective distance was more like 30 miles. It took me a little over six hours.

I got in the water about fifteen minute before 11 AM at Rocky Point Marina and headed downriver. The wind was blowing upriver as usual, and was occassionally fairly strong–strong enough that if I stopped paddling I’d stand nearly still the 2-3 knot current of the Multnomah channel. I figured the wind would help me on the way back, and decided to paddle at least ten miles. I wound up paddling 13 downriver because the wildlife was so interesting. A few days ago I saw two mature blad eagles–they have a nest in the stack of a big steel boat that seems to be pretty much abandoned.

Today it was Ospreys and Herons, and lots of them. I saw eleven Ospreys. Of course I might have seen the same one a few times, but I had eleven separate sightings. What a great looking bird. While I was watching one, he took a good sized fish about 100 feet away from me–Whack! I hooted for him, I think he liked it.

When I turned around I discovered the current was much stronger, and the wind picked that moment to slack completely. Grim. Not only that, there was a HUGE barge coming up river. I paddled hard to get on the other side of a little island and made it with a few feet to spare as a big roller came towards me. Normally I’d enjoy the barge wake, but I had 13 miles to paddle and I didn’t want to do it wet.

I paddled to a boat ramp where a sailboat and powerboat were tied up, having lunch. I wanted to take of my jacket in preparation for a long sweaty paddle. I talked with the folks and mentioned the current, The sailboat guy said the tide was going to turn in half an hour, so the current would start slacking soon. Good news. But it was a tough grind for the next mile or so, the shore crept by while I paddled hard. Finally the current slacked and I started to make better time. The wind started picking up too, and it was even blowing in the right direction. At a little after five I staggered ashore near my truck and struggled to get the board on the rack.

Pooped.

I could be wrong, but I don’t think the plymouth to Provincetown paddle will be any tougher.  I think I’m pretty ready.