But there's still water out there!

Sometimes...often...as I'm finishing up a guided tour I realize I'm nowhere near ready to get out of my kayak. Just because the paying part of the paddling is over doesn't mean there's not still water in the creek. Fortunately, I'm almost always in a position to do something about that need to stay out just a little longer.

I was loading the boats onto my Subaru after a Chatham Vineyards Paddle the other day when the bug bit me. (Not an actual bug, you see. An actual bug would NEVER bite you on the Eastern Shore of Virginia.) The breeze was so nice, and the air was so clear in the late afternoon light that I felt like I could see every single waving blade of cordgrass on the shoreline. And, oh my gosh, I just love kayaking on the Shore in October so much. So, I did what any good self-propelled boater would do in such a situation. I rode back up to the winery, asked Julie to pour me a glass of Church Creek Vintner's Blend, and took myself for a little excursion.

breezy times on Church Creek

The family who owns Chatham Vineyards has put every bit of land they own along Church Creek under conservation easement, thus securing it as the middle of nowhere forever. It is thanks, in great part, to stewards like the Wehners that we have so many pristine paddling locations on this narrow strip of land.

My little round two was very pleasing, but it wasn't very long. The tide was pretty low, so I couldn't sneak into the sheltered parts of the creek to hunker/paddle where the wind (which had really picked up!) couldn't get me. Around one bend, I found a slightly deeper "pond" where I put my paddle in my lap and drifted for a bit. The water is especially clear at this time of year, and I was perfectly delighted to float along watching snail tracks in the mud beneath me until I ever so slowly eventually ran aground. Turning myself around, I looked up and saw that a juvenile bald eagle had been watching me meander through the marsh while I had been watching the snails meander through the mud. Like I'd busted him spying, he immediately swooped off his branch and away, showing off his already impressive wingspan.

It seemed unlikely that I would get to top that in the last hour or less before sunset, so I started back towards Chatham. My phone buzzed in my pfd, and a friend told me she and her clan were on their way to Cape Charles and wondered whether I was in town. I told her that I was, in fact, nowhere near town but that I didn't consider that to be a hindrance. The quiet of the post-tour solo paddle is a wonderful thing, but sipping something icy cold with loved ones on the harbor afterwards is pretty good, too. So, I loaded one more kayak onto the Forester and headed on down the road...

-Margaret 10/22/12