This weekend, we finally got the kayaks in the water where we couldn’t rent them, and where there weren’t a plethora of other paddlers in the water.

There were some kids and a guide on inner tubes going down the (maybe class II) “rapids” just below us. We intended to be on fairly still water, but we were going to have to put in just above this spot and fight a bit of current to get out to where the river was wide and flat.

So I put my kayak mostly in the water, and got in it. As I started to shove off, I started tilting and taking on water. It took me a moment to realize that the rocks were forcing my boat to tilt but I was able to get myself righted and afloat. I was resting against a branch while Cliff got in his boat.

Cliff put in slightly downstream from me and fought a bit to get past me. Once he passed, it was time for me to get moving.

So I let go of the branch, and proceeded to gently paddle out to the river.

Except… The river had other ideas.

I had underestimated the current. My boat started to turn downstream and I was having trouble gaining control. For a moment, I was certain I was going to be unable to get out of the stream and I was going to have to navigate the class II section below me. This was going to be a much bigger adventure than I had intended for my first time in the Tsunami, which isn’t made for rapids anyway.

So I paddled as hard as I could trying to both turn the boat upstream and gain positive momentum. This was pretty scary because the only thing worse than getting swept downstream would be getting swept downstream backwards.

But actually, it wasn’t that hard. Maybe 30 seconds of intense paddling later I was out of the current. We paddled across the river, from Maryland into Virginia, and we even stopped by the Trump National Golf Course to play a little bit of Ingress by boat before heading back across. It was tiring, but a lot of fun.

I’m starting to embrace those little moments of panic. They are what makes doing the things so rewarding.