Day 56: The Paddle Begins

On Friday, as I finished the final miles of the biking leg near the Virginia-North Carolina line, my buddy Clayton rolled up from Asheville to meet me. We loaded my bike into his 4Runner and headed to Smith Mountain Lake, where my longtime friend Steve let us borrow his lake house for the weekend.

We tested out the kayak, installed the new sun canopy, swam in the warm water, visited Natural Bridge, explored VMI and Washington & Lee, stopped by the National D-Day Memorial, and enjoyed some great meals together. It was the perfect way to recharge before the paddling leg began.

On Sunday morning, after an early breakfast at the North Star Restaurant in Buchanan with Steve, Clayton drove me up to the river and helped me unload. I put in on the Cowpasture River two miles above where it joins the Jackson to form the James. A local at a convenience store had recommended that put-in, and it was the right call—the water was crystal clear and beautiful.

Everything changed at the confluence. The Jackson runs dark from a paper mill upstream, so the James starts out the color of iced tea. I decided right away I wouldn’t swim in it or drink from it.

The first day brought two Class II rapids, Surprise and The Squeeze. The Squeeze was the real thrill, an S-curve with a big boulder to dodge. The kayak handled everything beautifully, and the pedal drive made quick work of the slow, deep pools.

Two thunderstorms rolled through during the day. When I first saw the price tag on that canopy, two hundred and fifty dollars for some aluminum poles and silnylon felt ridiculous. But after it kept me out of the brutal sun and then protected me from the rain during both storms, I’m officially calling it a steal.

I pulled over for the first thunderstorm under an old stone train trestle while a CSX coal train thundered overhead. After thirteen and a half miles and about seven hours on the water, I pulled into Twin River Outfitters’ Gala Campground around eight o’clock. The only clean water I could find all day was from an Exxon station half a mile up the road, so I hiked up, filled my two-liter bag, filtered it back at camp, cooked some Mountain House lasagna, and crashed hard.

Thirteen miles down, a whole lot of river still to go.