You Don't Own The River

Fear The River

Two Thursdays ago, it was uncharacteristically really nice outside. It was warm and sunny without being nasty humid. So, I felt compelled to get my face out of my iPhone and ride my bike to the river to Columbia Crossing, which is a public space veranda of sorts to gaze upon the river and think deep thoughts.

I was chagrined when I arrived to see and more importantly hear a lady in yoga-like apparel yapping away on her cell. She might as well been talking to a rock since she was doing all of the talking. So much for my Zen moment of pondering whether I could see the same river twice. I was close enough to hear some of what she said. Typical gossip baloney. It irritated me that she didn't comprehend that it is not real appropriate to disturb the public peace with personal matters. By public peace I mean of course, my peace.

So, I hung out for only a bit then hopped back on the Trek to home. I thought about how nice it would be to have property on the river where my contemplation would not be hindered. Yet, in light of all of the flooding recently both near and far, I decided a chatterbox on her cell was better than the river in my basement. Everything is a trade-off in other words.

So, today was also stellar here in Central Pa. I felt obligated to strap the kayak onto my Civic and hit the river. I don't want to be one of those dudes who buys all of this outdoors stuff and it just sits dormant. I should have deduced that the river was rapid and overflowing by the fact that the entrance point into the water was about ten feet closer than usual. I think I was fooled by the placid and serene weather and didn't quite focus on the river itself which is still riled from all of the rain.

So, I was out paddling away thinking that it is full steam ahead. Nope. I turn my head aside and realize that I am making zero progress up stream despite paddling fairly strenuously. After ten minutes, I am farther away from the launch in the middle of the river but no further up the river. I can stay stationary and go sideways. That is it. I pray that God would give me wisdom out of my watery predicament.  I can get to the York side of the river and think about bailing there and then figuring out what to do next. 

Although I didn't think I was going to drown or anything drastic, I did get concerned that I might have to float down river to another boat launch on the Lancaster side and then get back to my car and leave my kayak somewhere not obvious to pick it up along the shoreline. I decided to paddle back to the Lancaster County side and bail out there. I knew I wasn't getting back to the boat launch by paddling. I had paddled harder and the river just laughed. When I came to the Lancaster side, a good distance down from where I launched, I saw that because of the flooding, the current was being stymied and slowed close to shore by trees that typically were on dry land.

So I weaved and bobbed my way up the riv to a part of the shoreline that was escapable. My kayak weighed a ton because it had taken a lot of water on and flipping it taxed my muscles to their max. I dragged it up some bog and muddy hill and was back on land. Quite a bit unnerved but within a hundred and fifty yards of my car. I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew that it had become more serious than it should have been and took a reckoning of sorts of my lack of wisdom in setting out an hour before.

All in all, it was a good reminder that I didn't own the river. It was dictating the terms. I had to adjust because the water didn't give a damn about me. A bit humbling, a bit enlightening.