FULL CONTACT PADDLIN'

Last weekend's Indian Summer weather presented Christy and I with an unusual dilemma. Should we go backpacking, or canoeing? With the promise of perfect weather, a backpacking trip in the Black Mountains would be hard to beat. On the other hand, some friends of ours were planning a paddling trip on the Lumber River. Spending a couple of warm, sunny days on the water held its own appeal. What to do?

Christy has an aversion to canoeing in cold water. Ultimately, that's what decided the issue. We knew that warm, sunny weekends would soon be only a memory. We decided to take advantage of the paddling opportunity.

We headed for Laurinburg early Saturday morning. This required us to drive through Monroe, which ranks right behind Shelby on my list of North Carolina towns that I loathe. Like Shelby, Monroe is a linear string of sprawling development consisting almost entirely of restaurants, gas stations, and big box stores. Of course, the "highway" is punctuated by an endless series of traffic lights. To quote Monty Python:

We eventually made it through Monroe and Wadesboro. Going through Rockingham was much better, as there is now an actual bypass around "town". Shelby, please take notes from Rockingham on how to build a bypass. Rockingham used to be first on "the list", but no longer. This isn't to imply that the town is any better, just that it's not nearly so annoying now that I don't actually have to drive through it.

We made it to Laurinburg (the improbable home of Allen DeHart), and after a couple of wrong turns found our way to Turnpike Road. We followed it to the put-in at the bridge over the Lumber River. This is the official starting point for the Lumber. Upstream from this point, the stream is called Drowning Creek. The reason for this isn't readily apparent. The stream looks pretty much the same in both directions. Either way, the stream disappears into a beautiful swamp forest of cypress and tupelo. For this weekend, we'd be paddling the first couple sections of the Lumber. Next time we'll have to paddle Drowning Creek.

We nearly missed the put-in by confusing the parking area with a car dealership. There were at least 20 cars scattered along the side road leading to the river. We were joining a group from the Lumber River Canoe Club (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lumberrivercanoeclub/?yguid=106031741). Wayne & Linda were leading the trip. Myron, Dorcas, and Izaak were there as well. Everyone else there was a stranger. Aside from the 6 of us, there were at least another 3 or 4 canoes and a couple of kayaks in our group. At least as many club members were joining the convoy for only the first day as well. A separate Sierra Club trip was leaving from the same point, and those folks only added to the throng.

The shuttle returned, and it was a relief to finally be on the water. We paddled downstream through a pristine swamp forest. After we passed under the bridge, we passed exactly zero signs of civilization the rest of the day. No houses. No roads. No nothing. It was wonderful. There was nothing to hear but the sound of paddles dipping into the black water. There was nothing to see except the narrow river channel, with a canopy of trees arching overhead, all surrounded by a vast swamp.

The paddling was more challenging than I expected. The current was surprisingly strong, and the river followed an endless course of tight turns. The river was only about 30' wide, so at each hairpin turn we had to fight across the current and stay out of the trees.

We paddled about 5 miles on Saturday to reach our campsite at Chalk Banks. There are two possible campsites here. The second is prettier, but it is too small for a group of our size. We stopped at the first, which was a large field on a bank above the river. It was the first place in 5 miles with enough dry ground to really stop. We had lunch and set up camp. Then we had all afternoon to relax and enjoy ourselves. Christy indulged herself with a nap, while I stretched out in the sun with a book.

Our campsite was on Lumber River State Park land. The park plans to build a primitive campground in the area. It will be accessible by car, so we were all glad that we got the opportunity to camp there while it is still undeveloped.

It got chilly that evening, but a roaring campfire kept everyone comfortable. Christy and I enjoyed a dinner of shrimp stir fry. Afterwards, we all shared stories around the campfire. We enjoyed a sky full of stars, but the northern lights failed to make an appearance. We had faint hope of a sighting, due to the solar flares that were expected all weekend. One of our fellow paddlers had spotted the northern lights a few nights earlier from his front yard.

We slept well that night. I got up early the next morning to get some extra exercise. I just happened to have my running shoes with me. Although we were surrounded by swamp, an old dirt road led from our campsite away from the river. It looked like an ideal place to run. It was shady and sandy, and flat as a pancake. I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I took Saucony with me. She seemed confused at first, as if we were playing some sort of new game. She would spring ahead of me, then return at full speed. I could only hope that all that running would tire her out once we got on the water. She tends to jump around a lot in the boat, which can make steering tricky. Perhaps she'd be tired enough to stay in one spot as we floated downstream.

That morning our crowd was ready to go, as we hit the water 20 minutes ahead of our scheduled departure time. The early start was a good idea, as we had 11 miles to go. Our progress was slow despite the current. Fallen trees were a frequent problem that required tricky maneuvering to avoid. In fact, most of our troubles on this trip were due to fallen trees. On several occasions we had to "bushwhack" through a blowdown. Luckily, we never had to portage through the swamp. We nearly went swimming on several occasions though.

The first dramatic moment of the trip came as we paddled through the swamp to get around a blockage. Saucony was lying on top of our dry bags in the middle of the canoe. Just as we approached a low branch, she decided to stand up. I was certain that she would be clotheslined, and that she would send us both into the water. Luckily Christy grabbed a tree a stopped our momentum.

Later we were passing through a tight passage between trees when the end of a branch caught the folding table we had brought to cook and eat on. The table was wedged tightly into the canoe, and it didn't give. We started to tip, but I grabbed the table and pulled it free before we went over. Afterwards we packed the table in front of the color where it would be less likely to get snagged.

Saucony was our biggest hazard, so we had her sit in front of Christy. This made the canoe more stable, but got in the way of Christy's paddling. Initially it seemed like a good trade, but it eventually caused problems. We were approaching another fallen tree not far above the water. I was confident that we could get under it, and Christy was too, until the last second. We were almost at the tree when Christy realized that Saucony's position would prevent her from being able to duck under the tree. She leaned far out over the water to keep from being decapitated. This had the effect of pushing the right side of the canoe dangerously close to the water. I threw myself to the left (is that starboard? Hell, I can never remember) and pushed down on the rapidly rising gunnel. Somehow we didn't tip over, but it sure was close. We made it under the tree without loosing our heads, either.

We made it through the trip without tipping, but that's not to say that we came out of it without any bumps or bruises. At one point we were forcing our way through some trees when Christy got tangled up in some branches. That adventure got her a bruised nose and a poked eye. Later we were avoiding a series of obstructions when the end of a branch caught her in the knee. This left a bruise that was second only to the one on her shoulder from another encounter with a tree. I escaped with only a few scratches. I guess it's good to be in the back!

Sunday's paddle was nearly as nice as Saturday's. We did float under 2 highway bridges and a railroad bridge. We stopped at the only house on this section of river for lunch. It turns out that the house is owned by a club member, and it provided rare dry ground for us to stop. Later we did stop at the Jasper Memory campsite for a break. This campsite featured a picnic table and fire pit under a beautiful stand of pine trees.

We reached our take out a mile after our final break. We took out in a sunny clearing near a water treatment plant. There was no shade there, and it was downright hot as we packed the car and tied the canoe down. It had been a great weekend for a paddling trip, and we couldn't have picked a wilder, more scenic stretch of river. Next time though, we hope to get off the river with a few less bruises.

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