Since Jack and I got our kayaks earlier in the summer, we've planned to take a junket down the Caney Fork River. Canoeing and kayaking have become very popular there in recent years, and almost as soon as we pulled the gigantic plastic bags off of our new boats back in May, Jack started talking about taking them on a river float below Center Hill dam.
Growing up just above the river in McMinnville and having a family camp at Rock Island, Jack is totally comfortable with the water. He was an early swimmer, could stay up on water skis as long as there was gas in the boat by the time he was ten and was comfortable paddling a canoe before most little boys have even heard of a Boy Scout float trip.
As a kid, I spent time on the water, too - with my dad and family in our little fishing boat and pilfering around on various stretches of shoreline here at Center Hill Lake. I've always loved the water, but I was NOT an early swimmer and spent a lot of years being too afraid of the water to actually enjoy it. I finally balanced my fears and desires a few summers ago, so I can now love
and enjoy the water.
With the kayak, I've found it easy for me to do both, and after several hours getting acclimated to my beautiful pea-green boat on the calm waters and occasional boat wakes of the lake, I decided I was ready to "do the river" with Jack, so bright and early this morning, we left-out with the kayaks loaded into our truck and Dad's truck as a second vehicle to leave at our take-out point, Happy Hollow.
The first drops of rain started hitting as we drove through SmithVegas. Undaunted, we headed to our first stop to park Dad's truck at our exit point from the river. From there we hauled the kayaks to the Long Branch Recreation Area just below the dam for our launch.
The rain had stopped by the time we arrived there, but a heavy layer of fog clung to the river, and with generation on one turbine scheduled to start less than ten minutes after we strapped on our PFDs and headed down-river, it would only get heavier as cold water from the bottom of the lake was transferred to the warm, moistness of the air around us.
Note: Nobody wearing a life jacket has ever drowned on Center Hill Lake or the Caney Fork River.
So anyway...
Despite the fog and the threat of rain, plenty of people were launching their canoes, kayaks, drift and john boats to make the best of today's two hours of generation time from 9:00 until 11:00 a.m. - every kind of trout fisherman in the world seemed to be gearing-out to catch a "big one".
Jack and I fell in with the masses and acted like we knew exactly what we were doing. We launched our kayaks and paddled into the fog for a leisurely few minutes before the whine of generation started at the dam behind us.
Suddenly we were paddling downhill in water that swirled and swelled. I was sideways and backward and spun around and around a couple of times before bottoming-out on a gravelly shoal-bottom that was maybe three inches deep but moving swiftly. I secured my paddle and used my hands to get myself loose and back into the main current.
I quickly adjusted to the action of the water, and weather conditions aside, really enjoyed myself.
Jack and I laughed later about how the hairy-est part of the trip occurred in the shallowest water.
"Honey, a life-jacket isn't going to do you any good if you're face-down in ankle-deep water," is the quote-of-the-day...
Ten minutes into our trip, the rain resumed - sprinkles at first, followed by a steady downpour, which coupled with the thick fog cut our visibility to about 20 feet.
I carried my camera in the dry-box, but I didn't take it out one single time. After the grounding out on gravel incident, I tied my camera box into the storage area of my kayak so tightly that it wasn't going anywhere. At one point we heard ducks, but because of the fog and rain, we never spotted a single one.
One of the most interesting things about the trip was when the river cut through high bluffs, we could feel the air temperature increase by at least ten degrees. Millions of tons of limestone hold a lot of heat in summertime...
After less than two hours on the river we reached Happy Hollow, where Dad's truck was waiting for us in the parking lot and where we experienced the unexpected kindness of strangers.
The ramp at Happy Hollow is steep and rough, and by the time we dragged our boats to the shore, we were exhausted from fighting the current and having to paddle by ear, avoiding snags and currents by listening for them, as the fog was too thick for us to see anything.
A couple with their young daughter had just pulled their canoe out ahead of us, and as we were leaving the river, they were loading their canoe onto a flat-bed trailer.
The woman yelled out to us, "Ya'll got a ride?"
"We're parked at the top of the hill," Jack responded.
"Well, ya'll load 'em on, we'll haul you up," she said, pointing at their trailer.
An hour later Jack and I were dropping Dad's truck off at the farm.
Three hours later, we were napping. Big napping. Like four hours' worth.
Despite the less than optimal conditions, both Jack and I had a ball and enjoyed ourselves. We feel that we've accomplished something - especially me with my hesitance about the water.
And I don't know when I've had such an intense upper-body, torso and core workout. If I can lift my arms over my head tomorrow, I will consider myself lucky.
