Paddling the Potomac

“Who can do 500 pull-ups?” our guide asked, holding up his hand.

The group laughed uncertainly and no one responded.

“If you want to do the equivalent of 500 pull-ups tonight, go ahead and paddle with your arms. If you don’t want sore arms at the end, paddle using your torso.” He then demonstrated the proper technique with his kayak paddle, rotating his middle section with each paddle stroke through the air. Since no one wanted sore arms, we all diligently copied his movements sitting in a circle on the grassy field.

Such was the instruction I received last Friday before launching onto the Potomac River for a sunset kayaking tour. The tour, provided by REI, included all the gear we’d need, two excellent guides, and a picnic dinner plus superb weather.

We donned life vests, ran through a safety briefing and paddling practice, and then helped each other carry the kayaks down to the sloped concrete ramp that lead into the river inlet across from National Airport. Planes took off in a steady stream overhead, roaring as they soared from the runway into the sky.  At the ramp, I slid into my kayak and wriggled my hips to scoot it forward into the water. To my left, my friend Sultana did the same until we were both afloat.

 

Sultana gets ready to launch

 

It was incredibly peaceful on the river. Even while we were trying to steer clear of motor boats, birds, and those funny-looking Duck Boat tours, there was a sense of calm and tranquility that is seldom found on land in the middle of a major metropolitan area. The cars zooming past on the adjacent George Washington Parkway seemed to be in another dimension. The Zen factor was further increased by my focus on using my core, not my arms, to push the paddle through the water and propel my little kayak along. (It worked! No sore arms!)

Heading up-river

Paddling near the Pentagon

We paddled up-river toward the Pentagon and the sheltered marina on its east side, where we stopped for a picnic dinner (on land). After eating, we continued north under the Memorial Bridge and paused at the base of a set of wide, shallow steps near the Lincoln Memorial. In years gone by, public concerts were held at that spot on the river. The orchestra sat atop a floating platform of sorts while spectators perched on the marble steps, amphitheater-style, to listen to the music. We heard no music save the sirens of police boats speeding past—four boats in five minutes!—and helicopters buzzing in the darkening sky, apparently looking for something or someone.

We took advantage of the location by snapping pictures of the sun setting behind the high-rises on the Virginia side of the river. We then paddled across and took in the view from the opposite shore of the moon reflected on the water and the Lincoln Memorial and Washington Monument lit up against the indigo sky.

Sunset and moonrise

 

We headed back to our starting point in relative darkness. Each person had a headlamp looped onto the strap of his or her life jacket for safety, but these didn’t provide enough light to see by. I was surprised there wasn’t more ambient light from the surrounding city. It was particularly dark where we paddled near the tree-lined shore, heightening the sense of separation from the rest of the world.

At a little after 10pm, we pulled our kayaks out of the water and onto the concrete ramp at our launch point, then carried them up to the field. Life vests in one pile, paddles in the other, and don’t forget your water bottles. Overhead, planes shouted their noisy greetings as they swooped down to land.