This AM, Sarah and I took to the water. The river beckoned and if that wasn’t enough incentive, I received a half-six call from the aforementioned Sarah and she and I were eventually able to drive down to Jack’s Boats for a morning row. If you are outside today in DC, its damn hot. This morning, it was perfect.
Last night, Jack’s had a moonlight paddle. This morning, the gate was chained. Cheryl has a key but I don’t. But, I know the secret way to get into the water and its by porting the wee blue kayaks by Walden Paddlers past the pay phones and lightly down into the water by the concrete slab.
Easy as pie.
Sarah is build for kayaking. She is pretty naturally buff and looks like within a short time she could smoke me; luckily, she is pretty awkward so far with the boat. Good thing, too, as I have been doing this for over 5-years. Its become something pretty natural for me after all of the this time.
The crews were stepping gingerly into their eights, fours, and twos. The oddball kayakers and olympic canoers were doing their antisocial best.
There were no flora or fauna for a while into the paddle so Sarah and I talked. We talked mostly about whether she would care to move here from Pittsburgh. She thinks she might.
After we were able to clear the rowers and their autobahn seriousness, we made it past three-sisters island and approached the second set of islands. A large Great Blue Heron basked in the morning sun, awaiting us.
I was afraid that my experience of the river as verdant and wild would not come across, but as we continued, we found ducks and other waterfowl.
The most beautiful athlete we had seen kayaked past us. She wore the togs of the Washington Canoe Club. She was nut-colored from tan and her hair was pulled back and she focused on the river and on the rhythm of the stroke. She was shaped like a woman, her body graceful and not severe, but it was obvious also that there was great power in her arms, back, stomach, trunck and torso.
Sarah was as rapt by her beauty as I was. I wonder who she was. She was very strong.
I made a joke that the boy who was obviously training with her and was about a quarter-mile in front of her was a fool. If I were him, I would bloody well let her catch up!
Got back to Frank’s but the gate was still chained. We ported the boats up and through the labrynth of the plants and the phone and the sill of the walk, and got them back and stored, only to return invigorated and blissed from the commune with the solemn and awesome Potomac.
Posted Jun 24, 2002 – 02:21 PM
