A few years ago, I went on a December weekend paddle with members of one of my kayak clubs. One of the members had a cabin located on the Hudson River about a mile below the town of Catskill, N.Y. It had been decided that the first eight people who signed up for the trip were to get a bunk in the cabin with the rest either taking the floor or sleeping outside in their tents. I was not to keen on the idea of paddling in winter in the first place, never mind sleeping in a tent at that time of year, so I was sure I was one of the first to reply to the mailing announcing the trip.

Saturday dawned bright and clear. We all met Saturday morning at the Municipal Park in Catskill, located right on the river. The game plan was to launch here and paddle the one-mile down river to the cabin property. There, we would unload the boats and after setting up camp, we were going to take an afternoon paddle down river and back both timed to the flood and ebb currents of the river. One of the luxuries we had for this trip was the use of a small motorboat to carry much of the extra gear we had along in the form of coolers full of food and beverages as we were planning on having quite a feast for ourselves that evening. 

The afternoon paddle was wonderful. Other then the occasional tug or the Metro-North trains going by we had the river to ourselves. I learned that as long as you have the proper gear winter paddling can be some of the most enjoyable you would ever encounter. You must dress for the water temperature in addition to the air.  Preferably this means you will be wearing a dry suit or at the least a wetsuit with polartech or fleece layers. You have to be prepared in case you find yourself in the water.

I was amazed when I first saw fellow paddlers intentionally rolling their boats in that water but it wasn't too long till I took up the challenge myself. There wasn't another pleasure boat sighted all day and the dreaded jet-skiers who are so brazen in the warm weather weren't anywhere to be found. At times it was possible to hear nothing more then the water dripping off my paddle blades. Other times the air was shattered with bursts of maniacal laughter erupting from one of the boats. The paddle back to the cabin came to an end just as the sun was setting over the hills to our left.  

Dinner was a potluck affair with everyone contributing his or her own special something. We ate and ate and then when we thought we couldn't possibly stuff anything more in our bellies someone would come out with another delicacy that we just had to try. All this food was washed down with various beverages, mostly wine and beer. As responsible paddler's we know the importance of not consuming any form of alcohol while on the water,  but when off it is up to the individual. 

The stories and laughter went on long past midnight. Then one by one people would drift off to go to sleep. I was in charge of the fireplace so I was sure it was safely banked before climbing into my bunk. I awoke Sunday morning to a very over cast day. I went outside to pee and found out it was more then overcast, snowflakes were falling. I added some logs to the still smoldering coals and started to make breakfast for everyone with the other early risers. 

"Snow!" "No one said anything about snow on the radio yesterday." Proclaimed one girl as she entered the cabin after spending the night in her tent. Look at the bright side someone said it could have been rain and then we would really be miserable. The snow stopped as breakfast began. We ate a hearty breakfast and after letting it all digest started to break camp. The plan for today was the reverse of the day before. We were going to paddle up river to our cars with the flood tide. We would then unpack the camping gear and then do a paddle up river with the remaining flood and return on the ebb current. The motorboat had just left with the extra gear when it started to rain. 

The wind, did I forget to mention the wind? Also increased in strength. In fact we had gale force winds when we entered our boats for what we thought was only supposed to be a one-mile paddle back to our cars. As so often can happen when doing a paddle a monkey wrench was thrown into our plans. The wind was blowing so hard down river it was actually holding back the morning flood. We had no choice but to duck our heads down and make the best of it. Normally in conditions such as these the proper course to paddle would be along the shoreline. Getting the occasional break from the wind as the hills on shore would sometimes block it. 

Well this was not turning to out to be a normal day. The shoreline of both sides of the river was lined with duck hunters. We had the choice of staying out in the main body of the river and fighting the wind with no help from what the tide tables said would be a flooding tide or risk getting shot paddling close to sure. Not surprisingly no one opted to paddle the shoreline. We had all paddled in wind and rain before but this was ridiculous. There were times that I could actually feel my boat moving backwards as I paddled at a furious pace forwards. After only about a quarter of a mile some of the weaker paddlers had to be taken in tow or they never would have been able to make any progress at all. 

I was not wearing a watch and couldn't believe when someone told me how long we had been fighting to gain every inch of the river. At last the park that contained our cars came into sight. About an eighth of a mile short of our goal a barge was tied up to a dock. A deckhand was laughing at us as he shouted, "You aren't getting anywhere." So much for words of encouragement from a fellow waterman. We knew we would have the last laugh because we could feel our progress even if you could only measure it by the millimeter. After what seemed like an eternity we all made it back to the take-out. 

It is true some had to be towed but we told those fellow paddlers that with time their technique would improve and they would be able to complete a trip under their own power. I will admit to accepting a tow myself on one occasion when I didn't feel that I had it in me to complete a crossing. There is nothing to be ashamed of in asking for help. The trip took us three and one half hours to cover the distance of one mile. While loading the boats on our cars we started to reflect on the weekend. We were sore and tired but already planning our next adventure. Why? You may ask, because we're paddler's. 

by Inuitsea