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Community Corner

Paddling the Big Gunpowder Falls

An evening trip from Harford Road to Bel Air Road is contributor's inaugural ride.

I have a few small puncture wounds in the palm of my hand today from some sticker bushes along the north bank of the Gunpowder River. In a rush to look smooth and in control while launching my kayak, as my wife watched from the side of the road, I attempted the sort of idiotic cast off that has gotten me dunked beforeI put the front of the boat in the water, and, with the back of the boat still on land, climbed in and attempted to push off. But the angle was too steep, and the boat listed from side to side, and I very nearly went in the drink. This was just below where the Big Gunpowder passes under Harford Road and where, swollen with spring rain, the water moves pretty fast.

This was the inaugural paddle of the 2011 season, and it was also the christening of my new 25-dollar Wal-Mart-special bicycle helmet. As a trade off for the free ride to the Harford Road drop-off, and back home from the Bel Air Road pickup, I have agreed to keep my life vest on and to wear a helmet during my solo paddles. I knew my wife was watching, mainly to see that I didn’t take the helmet off after the first bend in the river, and the last thing I needed was to fall in. So I grabbed some sticker bushes, steadied myself, gave a thumbs up, and eased into the water.

I grew up running through these woods. In elementary school, I fished in the little stream at the bottom of my parents’ street. In middle school, my friends and I got on our bikes and followed that stream down to the river, and searched out the best swimming spots. In college, my parents gave me a canoe for Christmas, and the first water it touched was the fast-moving current under Harford Road. Now, in the spring months, I make the trip from Harford to Bel Air Road in my kayak in about an hour. I pass the rock beaches where I skipped stones as a kid, check out the wildlife and try to keep from falling in.

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The Big Gunpowder from Philadelphia Road to Pulaski Highway is crazy. Do not ever try to paddle there. I did it once, and I found myself at several points zooming through the rapids next to my boat. But the rapids south of Harford Road are what paddlers might call “Class 1.” Which in this case means, “requiring some maneuvering and a bit of quick thinking, but very unlikely to toss you from your boat.”

This time out, while paddling the flat sections, I took pictures (check out the photos attached to this article). I wanted to show some of the litter that turns up along the river, illustrate the physical features of the waterway and hopefully see some wildlife.

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About midway through the trip, I found myself floating quietly past some very docile Canada geese who were sitting on their nest, and I pulled out the camera. But my memory card was full (I later realized this was because I had accidentally taken some video of a piece of trash). With my kayak floating backwards toward some rapids, I fiddled with the camera, randomly deleting family memories so I could photograph this commonest of birds. Then, I angrily gave up, turned the boat around, and headed downstream. And just as I rounded a curve, I caught a glimpse of a big, fat beaver. He was sitting on a log across the river, still as a statue.

So I got the camera back out and paddled across the river. As I fired off shaky photos, the beaver slid into the water and swam past my boat before diving underwater and smacking his tail with a resounding thud. This thing looked like it weighed about 50 pounds, and I was pretty glad at that point to be wearing my life jacket and brand-new bike helmet.

In some ways, these woods seem unremarkable to me. The river is exciting to behold in the spring, when its banks are swollen; but by the middle of the summer, the water will be low, even stagnant in some places. The areas near the main roads are frequented by fishermen who don't always have great respect for nature, and sometimes leave trash behind.  Compared to some of the other places I've hiked, like the national parks in Shenandoah, Acadia and St. John, the Gunpowder can seem unimpressive.

But here, I know where to find a seven-foot-deep swimming hole, a cool pine forest and a hiking trail for every occasion. On this trip, I saw osprey, mallards, and a North American beaver, which surprised the heck out of me. And I didn't fall in, all of which was well worth a few little scratches.

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