MENTIONING THE UNMENTIONABLE
WARNING: GROSS!
Recently
Christy and I traveled to White Lake, NC, so Christy could compete in the ˝
Ironman there. She had completed this
race twice before, but she wanted to do it again for training purposes. White Lake is a convenient place for us to
spend a weekend, as a friend of ours owns a trailer in a campground on the
southeast side of the lake. White Lake
is appealing to me because it is close to some of the finest blackwater paddling in the southeast.
We
left Charlotte on Friday afternoon and made pretty good time getting to White
Lake. That evening we indulged in the
obligatory pre-race pasta meal and went to bed early.
Christy
got up before 6 for the race. I
should’ve gotten up with her, but I was having trouble getting moving. I finally rolled out at 7am, eager to do some
paddling. For one reason or another I
never seem to do as much paddling as I’d like.
This weekend, I wasn’t about to pass up on the opportunity.
Two
years earlier Christy had done this race, and I had a paddled a section of the
South River. This year though, a bit of
pre-trip research had suggested that water levels on the South River might be
too low. Instead, I decided to hit the
Black River, which is only a few miles farther east. The Black River is a little bigger than the South,
and it looked like there would be adequate water there. I decided to do the section of river from the
Wildcat Road bridge down to Ivanhoe. I picked this stretch for a couple of
reasons. First, it offered about 9 miles
of paddling, but only 6 miles of walking and running on the nearest road to
retrieve my car. Also, my only previous
paddling trip on the Black River had started at Ivanhoe. Finishing this trip there seemed fitting.
The
drive was smooth, and I only had a little trouble finding the put-in. I didn’t see a convenient access point from
the bridge, but I did find a dirt road heading downstream on the west side of
the river. I hiked it for a few minutes,
until I found a faint path heading over to the river. At that point I doubled back to the car to
retrieve the inflatable boat and the rest of my gear.
This
part of the trip required careful thought.
At the end of the paddle, I would need to leave the boat and the rest of
my stuff while I ran back to retrieve my car.
I needed to bring everything I would need for the run (car keys, running
shoes and socks), but nothing particularly valuable that I couldn’t leave
sitting by the river for an hour and a half.
I
eventually remembered how to inflate the boat.
I finally shoved off at 8:20, eager to explore a new stretch of river.
Early
on I realized that I was in for more than a lazy float down the river. It was a surprisingly windy morning, and it
seemed like the breeze was usually in my face.
With the water level low, there wasn’t much current to speak of. It looked like I would actually have to
paddle if I wanted to finish before dark!
The
Black River is one of the prettiest streams in North Carolina, and this stretch
was no exception. I spent the morning
surrounded by towering Cypress and Tupelo.
Occasionally a house would intrude, but for the most part I was utterly
removed from civilization.
Early
on I found the river blocked by fallen trees.
This was a concern, as fallen trees can be the biggest hazard along a blackwater river. In
this case I was able to make an easy portage across a sandbar. Passages had been cut through other blowdowns, or I was able to navigate around them.
I
didn’t see much wildlife. I did see the
usual assortment of birds, including wood ducks, buzzards, and a heron. I even heard an owl, although I wasn’t able
to spot it. I spotted deer tracks on one
sandbar, but I didn’t actually see any large mammals on this trip. The only snake I saw was a rotting carcass
tangled up in a fallen tree.
About
mid-way through the trip I spotted a sign on the left bank that said “Jackie’s Landing”. I didn’t
see an actual landing, and I have no idea why the non-existent landing was
named after Jackie. Later, I passed a
series of signs that noted the distance to Ivanhoe. The first said “4 miles”, which was a bit
startling, since I’d already been paddling over 2 hours. Had I really only traveled a little more than
halfway?
Later
I passed the tall concrete supports of an old bridge. Not far beyond I floated under a road bridge,
and I knew I was nearing the end of the trip.
Along here I passed several guys in fishing boats. I didn’t see anyone on the first half of the
trip, but the river actually got kind of busy as I neared Ivanhoe.
I
reached the developed take-out 30 minutes later, at noon. I let the air out of the boat and eventually
wrestled it back into its bag. I then
changed into my running shoes, located the car keys, and packed everything else
into my dry bag. This included my old
camera, which I’d brought on this trip.
I’d left the new camera at home this time, as I wasn’t willing to risk
dropping it in the river or having it disappear while I was fetching the
car. Before I left, I carried everything
back into the woods out of sight of the parking area. I wasn’t too worried about having the boat
stolen, but I didn’t want to take any unnecessary chances. Technically it’s my friend’s boat, even
though it has resided in my garage for the last several years.
I
quickly realized that I was in for a rough run.
The heat was wicked. Since I had
over 6 miles to go, I walked the first 20 minutes. This took me through the “town” of Ivanhoe,
which consists of a few houses, a post office, and a volunteer fire
department. I started running a bit
beyond town. The run was quite the
ordeal. I started looking at my watch
around the 20 minute mark, which was not a good sign. At 25 minutes I started having doubts about
how far I’d be able to run. When I hit
30 minutes, I was actually dizzy from the heat.
I decided to walk for a bit, but I had to wonder – how was Christy
doing? She had 13 miles to run – after
swimming 1.2 miles and biking 56.
I
walked for five minutes, ran another five, and then walked some more. I was just about to run again when I spotted
a “stop sign ahead” sign just up the road.
This was a huge relief, as it meant that I was nearly back at the
car. I walked the rest of the way, and
then headed back to pick up the boat and my gear. Fortunately I found everything right where
I’d left it.
I
drove back to the trailer, where I found Christy waiting for me. She had bailed out on the race without
finishing. I wasn’t really surprised,
given the gusty winds (which make cycling much harder) and the heat. She was near the end of the bike ride when
she got dizzy. At that point, she
decided she’d rather quit than spend the rest of the weekend in the
hospital.
I
was pretty filthy, so I took a shower after having a late lunch. While showering, I noticed that I had a tiny
deer tick attached to a place so unmentionable that I probably shouldn’t
mention it. How the hell did it get
there, anyway? Really?!? I mean, c’mon, really?!? @#&% bastard. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just
say that all of the usual methods of tick extraction were particularly
unappealing. Eventually I had to get
Christy to assist. I think she was
partially disgusted, but equally delighted that someone else was having just as
miserable of a day as she was!
Christy
was pretty discouraged about the race, but we’ll probably be back. If we return, I’ll definitely plan to do some
more paddling in the area. The Black
River and the South River both have numerous sections I haven’t seen.
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