Saturday was a warm but windy day. The south wind was strong when I arrived at the river in the morning, and I stayed in the harbor, doing three 8-stroke sprints and then paddling at varying intensities with some balance drills in beam waves.
Yesterday it was quite a bit cooler--mid 50s Fahrenheit--and overcast and almost dead calm. I decided it was a good day to paddle around the Loosahatchie Bar and set off on my way, out of the harbor and up the Mississippi. Like I've said before, I never do this paddle as a time trial but I sort of aim to get it done in two hours or less. I was making good time as I paddled up past the Maynard C. Stiles sewage treatment plant and then ferried across the river.
Then, as I approached the north end of the Bar, a guy in a johnboat came over and started peppering me with questions about where a person might camp in the area and where the nearest road access on the Arkansas side was. I was annoyed at the interruption but tried my best to be polite and neighborly. We spoke for two or three minutes, but I probably lost a couple of minutes on top of that because we were drifting downstream the whole time.
Finally I continued on my way and paddled up to the top end of the Bar. The big flood of 2011 deposited a bunch of sand in this area, and at yesterday's river level (16.3 feet on the Memphis gauge) I found myself having to continue upstream to find an open passage into the Loosahatchie Chute. I thought I found one but it turned out to be only inches deep, and I ended up getting out of my boat and carrying it to deeper water. The sand was soft and I sank almost knee-deep several times.
Back in the boat I started down the Chute, but my shoes were full of sand and after a few minutes I decided the discomfort was more than I wanted to deal with for the forty minutes or so back to the dock. I stopped and took off my shoes--not the easiest thing to do on a tippy surf ski. The water was cold and I really didn't want to take a swim if I could help it. As it was, my legs were getting good and soaked as I struggled out of my shoes, rinsed them out, and gingerly slipped them back on.
At last I was on my way again, and there was now no way I would be breaking two hours, so I tried to relax and enjoy the environs. Even on this cloudy, chilly day, the Loosahatchie Chute is quite a beautiful place. Even though it's only maybe three miles from the concrete jungle of downtown Memphis, a person can feel like he's in a remote wilderness by paddling down into the Chute. Yesterday the water was as smooth as glass and reflected the trees on either bank.
I was getting pretty tired by the time I emerged at the downstream end of the Bar and paddled back into the main river channel toward the mouth of the harbor. I tried to take good strokes and keep the boat gliding. I ended up back at the marina about two hours and fifteen minutes after I'd started. On the dock in my wet clothes, I was chilled to the core and would spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get some warmth back into my body.
The stiffness in my upper back seems to be easing, and that's a figurative relief as well as a literal one. Four years ago I went through a period of months where I couldn't shake this ailment, and on some days the discomfort was enough to make me just plain miserable.
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