On the flood the rude bridge arches
This family unit has sadly delayed kayaking the Concord River. Do you give credence to evidence from an authoritative written source, in this case Quiet Water Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island? Or do you prefer hearsay from a library patron? Typically, my librarian spouse won't believe it's raining without finding a forecast online, in print, or broadcast: but in this case she chose to believe a hearsay account that the Concord River is too crowded with speeding motorboats to make good kayaking. Of such things resistance to good ideas is made.
Possibly there are seasons when the river is crowded with motorboats. Possibly in those seasons the motorboats habitually scoff at the 10 mph speed limit. Neither was the case this weekend, when I finally sold the trip at home.
The launching ramp off Route 225 was certainly busy, but the number of stinkpotters getting out balanced the number going in. These weren't joyriders or water-skiers, but fisherfolk, who weren't in much of a hurry to go anywhere and generally respectful of the speed limit. There was no problem sharing the water. We set out upstream, our usual practice, although the Concord River's current ranges from imperceptible to negligible. We'd started late, so it was a question how far we'd get. We agreed it would be nice to reach the North Bridge on this expedition.
Despite downstream dams and gentrified encroachment, and thanks to remediation of what was once one of America's most polluted rivers, the Great Meadows National Wildlife Refuge offers a fairly good idea of what Henry David Thoreau and his brother saw during their rowing trip on the Concord and Merrimack River in 1839. This isn't a long river, but it's a respectably wide one that swallows up, or minimises, most evidence of its human users and abuttors.
The two most prominent species of resident seemed to be Great Blue herons in many stages of development, and more turtles—probably painted turtles— than I can recall seeing in one place at one time.
No, we didn't make it to Concord and the North Bridge: time ran out on us maybe twenty minutes short of that destination, and with the lack of current we wanted to be sure to get back to the landing in daylight. Never mind: that gives us a reason to go back.
Score one for evidence.
Possibly there are seasons when the river is crowded with motorboats. Possibly in those seasons the motorboats habitually scoff at the 10 mph speed limit. Neither was the case this weekend, when I finally sold the trip at home.
The launching ramp off Route 225 was certainly busy, but the number of stinkpotters getting out balanced the number going in. These weren't joyriders or water-skiers, but fisherfolk, who weren't in much of a hurry to go anywhere and generally respectful of the speed limit. There was no problem sharing the water. We set out upstream, our usual practice, although the Concord River's current ranges from imperceptible to negligible. We'd started late, so it was a question how far we'd get. We agreed it would be nice to reach the North Bridge on this expedition.
Despite downstream dams and gentrified encroachment, and thanks to remediation of what was once one of America's most polluted rivers, the Great Meadows National Wildlife Refuge offers a fairly good idea of what Henry David Thoreau and his brother saw during their rowing trip on the Concord and Merrimack River in 1839. This isn't a long river, but it's a respectably wide one that swallows up, or minimises, most evidence of its human users and abuttors.
The two most prominent species of resident seemed to be Great Blue herons in many stages of development, and more turtles—probably painted turtles— than I can recall seeing in one place at one time.
No, we didn't make it to Concord and the North Bridge: time ran out on us maybe twenty minutes short of that destination, and with the lack of current we wanted to be sure to get back to the landing in daylight. Never mind: that gives us a reason to go back.
Score one for evidence.
Labels: Concord River, kayaking
posted by Uncle | 00:28
1 Comments:
One of the highlights of my "shoot the Hooch" experience was when a beautiful Great Blue Heron flew down the river directly overhead of me. I have loved them for years- my grandparents in NY State had a nesting pair in the woods by their pond.
Must definitely get back to the Hooch sometime soon :-)
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