If anyone is reading this, you might have wondered, "How did he get home from work? Did he paddle? Was it dark out? He was going up river, right?" If you didn't wonder about any of those things, then you may want to choose something else to read.
The sky was still bright when I walked away from the Kennedy Center, crossed Rock Creek Parkway, and walked the short distance to Thompson Boat Center. It was like I was returning to a completely different facility than the snoozy one I had left my boat at that morning. At this time of day - around 6pm - Thompson is a beehive of teenage rowers. Kids are all over the place inside and outside of the boat house, and in and out of the water.
I pulled down my kayak from its rack, acutely aware of dull soreness in my back and shoulders. Carrying it down to the water, I weaved through crew teams and dropped the boat into the mighty Potomac off the upriver end of the dock. Just getting away from the dock was like a game of Frogger (for all you video gaming old-timers) because 8-person sculls were rowing up to the dock at what seemed like 15 second intervals (minor exaggeration, but only minor).
Once I was out in the river, I immediately answered the question I'd carried in my mind all day: "Should I paddle home on the river, or on the canal?" The strong, chilly wind was lifting a 6-inch chop from the surface, and I was not up for fighting my way through that on my maiden upriver voyage.
I turned downriver, re-crossed the line of hard-charging teenage crew teams, and paddled into the mouth of Rock Creek at Lock 1 of the C&O Canal. As soon as I paddled up behind Thompson toward the House of Sweden, I was relieved to find that I was sheltered from the wind, and that I was greeted by a Kingfisher, dipping and diving its way back and forth across the creek - barely above my head. A good omen for sure.
I won't bore you with the details of the brief stretch of Rock Creek that leads up to the true mouth of the canal at Lock 2, beside/behind the Four Seasons Hotel. From there, I had to take my boat out of the water and carry it three blocks through Georgetown to the top of Lock 4. I got some strange looks from passing bikers, pedestrians, and particularly from the cabbie who honked at me as I crossed in front of him on Thomas Jefferson Street with a big, yellow kayak on my shoulder.
At Lock 4, already winded and increasingly sore, I dropped the kayak in the grass alongside the canal for a breather. Noticing that I was right up the block from Baked and Wired, I popped in for a nut bar and an espresso. Solid.
Fueled up, I put the boat back in this placid, continuous section of the canal and began the meat of the journey home. The first stretch, in Georgetown, is fantastic because there are lots of people enjoying the canal - walking beside it along the towpath, and paddling in it. Several skilled, fit, and elegant paddlers cruised smoothly by me, bruising my ego while informing my technique. I also passed a group of novices taking a class, just above the Potomac Boat Club.
As I left Georgetown behind, falling in to a rhythm and pushing on towards the Palisades, I had a powerful realization: You can buy a boat, but you can't buy fitness. I was already pretty fatigued, with a long way still to go. Judging by walkers and joggers along the towpath, my pace was quicker than a walk, but slower than a jog. Ugh.
It took a good, long time to round a bend and see Fletcher's Boat House. Now I knew I could make it. Only moments after passing under the bridge at Fletcher's, I could see the Crescent Trail bridge at Arizona Avenue - the termination of this paddle. Pulling the boat out of the water, I was momentarily elated. Then, I hauled it onto my shoulder to lug it up onto the Crescent Trail, across Arizona Avenue, up through the steep, wooded hill of the park, and finally to home. Double-ugh.
Huffing, puffing, and questioning the wisdom of commuting on the river, my spirits were lifted when Si and Eva charged out from behind a tree to greet me screaming elated congratulations and welcome - undoubtedly the best part of the maiden voyage.
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