Why do the tides always run at ridiculous hours of the morning? Where’s the intelligent design in that? Couldn’t G-d have created a world where tides would only run after 10:00? Such are the musings of a sleep deprived brain.
It was 4:00 am and I had to leave by 6:00 to meet some Friends of Brook Park at 7:00 for a Fall foliage paddle down (and/or up) the Harlem River.
I pulled up in front of the gate at the corner of 141 St & Brook Ave at 6:40 (sometimes the traffic goblins sleep late). 10 minutes later some fellow paddlers began to show up.
We ended up with 7 paddlers: 3 canoes; and me in my kayak. We car topped one of the canoes next to my yak and loaded the other two on carts to be walked to the launch.
One of the canoes was an old Grumman aluminum, like the ones I paddled before the last ice age when I was younger. I know these boats are indestructible but I was told that this one had actually survived being thrown off a roof before being donated. It proudly displayed its battle scars, it was kinda canoe shaped in both directions (upright and on its side).
We launched around 8:30; there was still a chill in the air but the weather was sunny despite the overcast weather predictions. Once we got on the water I forgave G-d for his mis-timed tides.
The current was moving nicely; we spotted several hawks. The bird watchers in the group probably knew what kind they were; to me they were just magnificent.
Our first stop was the Sharp Boathouse and Swindlers Cove. I’ve always enjoyed docking there but had never really explored the grounds surrounding the boathouse. We went on a tour. The gardens and landscaping are terrific.
When we got back to the boathouse to launch I decided to light up a cigar, and enjoy the sheer opulence of my surroundings while paddling. I started entering my yak as I’ve done a dozen times from the boathouse dock: The traffic demons may have slept in but the ever playful river gods hadn’t. I ended up demonstrating a wet exit without ever having fully entered my boat. I survived, with a very bruised ego. My cigar, however, was less fortunate.
I need to apologize to the rest of my group for making it so hard for them to paddle while holding their sides hysterically.
Our next stop was Inwood Park. There was just enough of a ribbon of water between the mud to allow us to tie up to the dock. 20 minutes later as the tide receded the boats were on the mud. Really not a bad thing since we had expected to remain there till the tide came back in anyway. We jumped the locked gate on the pier and proceeded to a large bark wig wam that had been erected in the park. At that point a friendly parks dept employee asked to see our launch permit. Our guide painstakingly explained to him that as the park had been built with public funds he saw no reason to have one. The friendly parks dept employee immediately saw the merit of the argument and went on his way. (Now I’ll tell you about the tooth fairy.) Anyway we promised to leave as soon as our boats had water under them.
If you have never visited Inwood Park, you owe it to yourself to go. This is not the Big Apple that you usually envision. Winding paths through the woods that go on forever. I kept having to remind myself that I was still in NYC and not the Appalachians.
The water finally came back in and much to the joy of the friendly parks dept employee we made ready to depart. I waited till I was securely IN my boat before lighting my cigar.
Next stop our friends at Urban Divers. What a terrific exhibit. I learned more about horseshoe crabs than I had ever imagined.
Did you know that 4’ sturgeons still migrate up the Hudson? They are endangered so I sure hope the life sized stuffed one that they had on display was made of plaster.
Back on the water, for an easy paddle home. Take out was around 3:00.
by Ron
Labels: brook park urban divers inwood park, swindlers cove, wigwam
