Tag Archives: Kayaking

Trip 13: Peekskill to Manhattan Redux

By Vladimir Brezina

Bright sky beyond bare branches..

Saturday, 18 March 2000

7:43 a.m. Metro-North train to Peekskill. Sunny all day, no clouds at all (got sunburned), but chilly. Temperatures in the 30s, possibly just making it into the 40s. Some snow on the ground around Peekskill; puddles and shallow water spilling over into the parking lot frozen overnight.

Launched by 10:00 a.m. Paddled south against the current into Haverstraw Bay, then along eastern shore and across to Croton Point. 10-kt tail wind and 1-ft following seas (whitecaps in main channel), both increasing significantly alongside Croton Point and south into the Tappan Zee. Some icing on the boat from freezing spray.
Croton Point around noon. Followed eastern shore of Tappan Zee; wind and waves gradually diminishing. Lunch on north-facing beach at Philipse Manor, vey cold standing wet in the wind. Now good ebb current (close to spring tides today). South of the Tappan Zee wind completely calm; water mirror-smooth though still some residual ripples. Still very few boats (saw only three or four boats all day, mostly commercial, tugs and barges) but planes and helicopters flying over the river seemingly every couple of minutes.

Spent some time photographing around Yonkers. Wind then picked up from the south; head wind but not too strong. Reached Dyckman St. around 4:30 p.m. Paddling time around 6 hours; about 28 nm.

(Note: Vlad’s pale Eastern European skin was prone to sunburn, and he suffered badly from it—he would even get feverish at night.

Beyond that, the Vlad I met is emerging clearly from the page: casual familiarity with the tides (spring and neap), currents, and wind speeds. And completing a 28 nm trip in 6 hours is a characteristically blistering pace: 4.6 knots, or 5.4 miles per hour, some of it against the current!

Finally, it gratifies me that he found Yonkers, where I now keep one of my boats, pleasing enough to photograph. I’ve fallen a little bit in love with the place myself.)

 


Trip 11: Hudson River, Manhattan

By Vladimir Brezina

George Washington Bridge on a winter day

Sunday, 27 February 2000

Launched at Dyckman Street around 10 a.m. First paddle since ice gone. Relatively mild winter day, but foggy, despite forecast, essentially all day. Brighter spots through the clouds now and then, but rather grey, and so a little cold, most of the time.

Paddled south under George Washington Bridge and along the Manhattan shoreline, with ebb current. Slight head wind (10 knots) and so some whitecaps. Later wind calmed down; in the afternoon completely calm.

Reached Downtown Boathouse around 11:30 a.m. Turned round and returned, dodging between the piers, against the current. Just south of Chelsea Piers sopke with paddler from there, Rufus, with all-new red Khatsalano and full high-tech equipment. Gave him my phone number: may go out with him and his group of Feathercrafters in future.

Lunch on the water in empty marina immediately adjacent to driving range at Chelsea Piers. Then continued north along Manhattan shoreline to 79th Street. now should have been strong flood current, but still slight ebb. Some weak flood current only much later, at peak of astronomical cycle, and in retrospect ebb current in the morning was much stronger than it should have been: presumably runoff and ice melting up the river.

From 79th Street crossed river and went up along New Jersey side. Under George Washington Bridge and back across to Dyckman Street. Started packing up the boat around 4 p.m.; now, of course, sun finally coming out, weakly.

(Note: Here we see more of the essential Vlad. First his characterization of a 10-kt wind as “slight”; most paddlers consider that substantial! Second is his joy in connecting with kindred spirits, along with his teasing characterization of the “high-tech equipment”. And finally, there’s his thoughtful analysis of the current; indeed in springtime (which was rapidly approaching) the runoff often cancels the flood entirely in the Hudson.)

Trip 10: Hudson River, Manhattan to Peekskill

By Vladimir Brezina

Looking North on the Hudson on a winter’s day

Sunday, 9 January 2000
Launched at Dyckman St just before 9 a.m. Mild winter day. Partly sunny all day, with very little wind: tail winds around 5 knots all day (measured with new wind-meter). River calm. Air temperature climbing to around 50°F in the afternoon. But water temperature (from the Web) in the mid- to upper 30s; wore drysuit for the first time this winter.

Paddled north with good flood current. Reached Croton Point around 12:30 p.m.: 18 1/2 nm in 3 1/2 hours, my best ever so far over this stretch. Lunch. Continued north around 1 p.m. Current now turning against me, but not really felt until past Verplanck.

Reached Peekskill around 3:30 p.m. Relieved to see no ice in Peekskill Bay. Lazed about on the water until sunset (at 4:40 p.m. or so): colorful, interesting cloud formations but not as spectacular as I hoped. Talked with old couple out for a walk that I talked with here last year. Confirmed no ice here yet this winter. Took 5:19 p.m. train back to New York City.

About 26(?) nm, 6 hours paddling time.

(Note: This is one of my favorite logs. It conveys the Vlad that I met in a few succinct words. His power and endurance: Covering 26 nm in 6 hours is an impressive feat, even given the assistance of the wind and current: a sustained pace of 4.3 knots, or almost 5 miles per hour. I also delight in his joy in the “new wind-meter”, and his methodical approach to tracking conditions—both hallmarks of his scientific mind.

But best of all is the throwaway line, “Talked with old couple out for a walk that I talked with here last year.” Pure Vlad! Only he would take time in a terse writeup to note that they were “out for a walk”. And who remembers an encounter with strangers from a year before? Someone who truly sees and connects with people, that’s who. 

All in all, an auspicious way to start the New Year… a year that, as we’ll see, will usher in some of Vlad’s legendary long trips.)

 

 

Trip 9: Hudson River, Beacon to Peekskill

Text and photo by Vladimir Brezina

Winter riverbank

Saturday, 18 December 1999

7:43 a.m. Metro-North train to Beacon. Launched by 10 a.m. Winter weather: temperature in the 30s all day, cold wind from the north. Partly overcast at first, then mostly sunny; pale blue winter sky, sun low down on the horizon.

Water temperature probably in the upper 40s. All trees bare by now. Paddled south with the ebb current and wind. Past Denning Point, Bannerman’s Island, Cold Spring, West Point. Lunch on Con Hook, cold in the wind (wearing only wetsuit, not yet drysuit), but warm enough out of the wind in the sun. Paddled further south to Peekskill; arrived in Peekskill Bay around 1:30 p.m. Explored the beginning of Annsville Creek; not very interesting now in the winter; shallow and muddy. Not enough daylight to continue to Ossining, so 3:19 p.m. train back to New York City.

(Note: We’re seeing the shape of the Vlad-to-come emerge in these few short sentences. He always particularly enjoyed winter paddling, which is a truly different experience from paddling on a warm summer’s day. In later years he will not be daunted by the onset of night, although paddling alone at night in winter certainly increases the risk.)

Trip 8: Hudson River, Peekskill to Yonkers

Text and photos by Vladimir Brezina

Winter sunset at Yonkers

Sunday, 5 December 1999

7:43 a.m. Metro-North train to Peekskill. Launched by 9:30 a.m. Hazy and windless morning; water like glass. Relatively warm for December (later in the day, temperature up to 60°F). (Note: The scientist in him, and also the world citizen, would always make a point of including units. Most Americans, and nearly all American nonscientists, would assume Fahrenheit to be understood.)

Paddled against flooding current (for first two hours) down to the entrance to Haverstraw Bay, then directly across to Croton Point. No wind at all, water like a mirror, reflecting sun struggling through banks of clouds at first, then becoming a steady diffuse bright glow in a pale blue sky, with outlines of opposite shore and Croton Point in front very hazy. Very few other boats: a few fishing motorboats and the usual tugs and barges; a couple of kayakers around Croton Point.

Tappan Zee in the mist

Past Croton Point around noon and south through the Tappan Zee. A mile or so north of the Tappan Zee Bridge wind suddenly picked up to 15-20 knots from the south. (Note: In later years, Vlad used to cite Murphy’s Law for paddlers, “The wind is always against you, no matter which direction you’re traveling.” It seems to be true surprisingly often. Perhaps it should be called “Brezina’s Law”?). Waves soon built up to 2 feet (wind now against ebbing current). Progress considerably slowed by the wind and waves. Stopped at Irvington around 2 p.m. to reassess situation (met another pair of kayakers, somewhat unprepared for the conditions), then down to Dobbs Ferry (another pair of kayakers). Wind gusts up to 20 knots, waves (not even in middle of channel) up to 4 feet. Larger waves much more pleasant, less bouncy, than short 2-foot chop. South to Yonkers; now (4 p.m.) sun setting behind orange and blood red clouds, soon to be dark, so took out. Train back to New York. (Note: This entry is very close to home as Brian, Vlad’s former student, and I paddled from Yonkers to Croton Point and back this past Sunday—under very different conditions. It was warm, sunny, and just enough bounce to be fun. It’s also interesting to note Vlad’s decision to take out. In later years he might well have opted to continue on, as he had no issues with paddling at night, and four-foot waves were less intimidating. That said, he clearly made the right decision for his level of expertise. That sensible quality stayed with him all his life.)

Trip 7: Hudson River, Albany to Hudson

Text by Vladimir Brezina
Photos by Vladimir Brezina and Johna Till Johnson

After the leaves have fallen

13-14 November 1999

Saturday, 13 November
6:10 a.m. Amtrak train to Albany. Launched by 9:30 a.m. Ebb current, little or no wind, river calm. Overcast and grey. Almost all leaves are now gone from trees. Very little color left; only here and there a solitary vine on a tree-trunk still orange.

Paddles south past the Port of Albany; herd of white-tailed deer running through the waste ground between the petrochemical tank farms on the eastern bank. Eventually, lunch on the shore of Houghtaling Island. Extreme low tide; muddy along the shore line. Onward past Coxsackie. Current now starting to flood, but a slight north wind helping. Overcast beginning to break to show patches of blue sky between the banks of white and grey; streaks of sunlight on the water.

Down to the campground at Stockport Middle Ground, but a hunters’ boat anchored offshore. Back to the deluxe campground at Gays Point. Arrived around 4 p.m. First thing after landing, two hunters in camouflage outfits, with guns, drove out of the brush in a eight-wheeled armored-car-type vehicle to draw a bucket of water from the river. Many ducks and geese flying and honking overhead; occasional shots.

(Note: Another semi-comic reference to hunters–note the “camouflage outfits, with guns” and the “eight-wheeled armored-car-type vehicle”…. all that costuming and heavy equipment just to “draw a bucket of water from the river”.  Vlad’s dry sense of humor at play! As I’ve mentioned before, Vlad had many traits in common with many hunters, including a deep libertarian streak, and of course the love of the outdoors. But in his narratives hunters always seem to come across as slightly goofy. I think it’s the paramilitary costuming and equipment that he finds a bit over-the-top…)

Camped right on the beach, protected from the north wind, rather than on the elevated grassy area. Drifts of dry brown leaves everywhere, and dry twigs and driftwood on the beach. Lit a fire in the ring on the beach before getting into the sleeping bag; provided pleasant warmth against the evening chill, now considerable. Brilliant brief sunset: vivid purple, red, and blue against the banks of grey cloud, reflected off the water, with a crescent moon high in the blue above, and the bright fire below.

A campfire for warmth..

Sunday 14 November

Just after midnight, awakened by gusts of wind from the south. Very soon the wind increased to what seemed like 15-20 knots, with strong gusts. Leaves and even some sand flying past, trees, even though bare of leaves, swaying prominently. Moved tarp and bivy-sack to slightly different spot, where no danger of being crushed by a falling tree. (Especially several right on the edge of the water seemed not very securely rooted in the sand. Shores around here littered with trees fallen in previous storms.) Otherwise very snug and comfortable in the bivy-sack.

(Note: It’s reassuring to me that Vlad encountered the same situation that I’ve often run into: camping under trees that might come crashing down in a high wind. I never remember until it’s too late, and then find myself moving the bivy in the middle of the night, as he did. In future years he will learn to check the weather on the maritime radio, and thus have early warning about  an oncoming front, which this was. I also like the way he hyphenates “bivy-sack”. And his joy in feeling “snug and comfortable” also resonates. Neither of us are in the slightest claustrophobic.)

Morning: wind from the south at 20-25 knots, whitecapped waves up to 3 feet in the main channel. (Current starting to ebb against the wind.) Almost exact reprise of windy day with John and Kathy in this spot a few weeks ago, except that today not sunny. Campground not well protected against a south wind. Was a little cold through breakfast (eaten while moving to keep warm) and getting into the wetsuit, etc., still slightly—but thanks to the quick-drying material, only slightly—wet from yesterday. Will be much more uncomfortable to do this when it is really cold; drysuit a lot better in this respect.

Once in the boat and on the water, however, much warmer and more enjoyable. Left around 9 a.m. Sure progress with the current, but slow against the headwind. Waves fun (but wet). (Note: Hence the genesis of the name of our blog: WindAgainstCurrent). Went through the eastern channel around Stockport Middle Ground (only very brief protection against the wind). Arrived at Hudson around 10:30 a.m. With strong headwind, forecast for strong cold front later in the day, and early winter sunset, further paddling options limited. Decided to take 12:25 p.m. Amtrak train back to New York.

Vlad in Albany: Similar day, different season

Daily Post: Savor

By Johna Till Johnson, photo by Vladimir Brezina

Today’s daily post is Savor. 

Ready for breakfast

This was the first cup of coffee when we camped on a chickee during the Everglades Challenge Shakedown in 2013. Nothing ever tastes quite as good as that first cup of coffee the morning after a long day paddling!

And we savored everything about that trip—even the parts that were challenging. In retrospect, I have to smile at our naive assumption that we’d find lodging in the Florida Keys on the weekend between Christmas and New Year, aka “the busiest week of the year”.

But we did, even if it was a bit unorthodox.  Moral of the story: Savor the good stuff. And it’s all good stuff.