Beating the Wind

It was windy yesterday, and while it went calm overnight, the afternoon is predicted to be quite windy again.  That is autumn weather in these parts, predictably unpredictable.  It is calm when I get up, and I decide to take advantage of the weather.

I put in at my usual East River start - the old ford at Bear House Hill Road, which is signed Foote Bridge Road, which makes some sense as the Foote family burial ground is spitting distance away. 

The sky is overcast with a lumpy grey stratus. It is still in the low 40's and off in the far distance is a bit of sun glow pushing through. This sky always reminds me of my first hunting trips with my Dad, back when I carried a toy gun.  The only thing out of place is that the weather then was always about 10 degrees colder than today.  It is a comfort sky, a sky of good omen.  I spot a pair of large Hawks perched together in a tree near the Gravel Flats.  They are in silhouette with the sky, so it is impossible for me to identify the species.

As I near the Smallpox Burial ground, an immature Bald Eagle flushes heading downriver but then circling back and passing me.  

I explore one of the side channels in the upper marsh, and although I know that I have made it through before, I have to return the way I came after hitting two dead ends.

The Long Cut at Very High Tide

 

In the lower marsh, I head into the Left of the Sneak channel, just because the tide is high enough.  The tide will peak at 6.6 ft in about a half hour.  That level is about 3 inches short of the highest recorded. I head east into the Long Cut.  The wind starts to move as I get halfway through the narrow short cut. It steadily rises over the next fifteen minutes before it steadies at something short of 10 mph.  

I paddle a doodle rather than heading down to the bottom of the river - Long Cut to Bailey Creek, Then over the flooded high marsh to a farther down point on Bailey Creek, through an ole mosquito trench into the East River, back through a second mosquito trench into the Sneak, and up the Sneak back to the East River. 

Nearing the Old Ford

By the time I get up to the freshwater marsh, the trees are starting to blow, although it is of little bother down on the river.  My timing has been good.