I didn’t take my normal September Staycation this year. Once Paddlefest was all wrapped up (it was a huge success!), I was free to take some time off. Patrick and I flew out to visit my sister in Breckenridge Colorado for 5 days, and now I’m just freely taking a day off here and there when the weather is suitable for paddling!

Today I paddled a good chunk of Kent County, MD – the fartherst north I’ve paddled as part of this goal so far! I really haven’t spent any time in Kent County, Maryland so it was fun to see the countryside. This part of Delmarva has some rolling hills and it is reminiscent of my childhood stomping grounds of northern Baltimore County (minus the Chesapeake bay shoreline!).

I got up at 5 a.m. and drove to Still Pond Station Park. However halfway there I realized I forgot the delicious lunch I had packed and had to stop at a gas station for granola bars 😦 The park wasn’t much more than a tiny beach and a boat ramp and there wasn’t a soul in sight. It’s also the site of a USCG small boat station, but I didn’t see much activity at the station, even though I read that it was supposed to be manned through mid-October.

I unloaded my kayak, locked it to a fence, and then drove to Betterton Beach. From there I parked, unloaded my bike, and biked back to Still Pond. I’m glad it was only a 6 mile ride, because I’m not a strong cyclist AND there were hills!

Once I arrived at Still Pond I swapped my bike for my kayak and launched. This launch was kinda creepy. There were some uninhabited buildings (maybe from the coast guard?), nobody around, a slightly overgrown parking lot, and a TON of black vultures lurking around! I was eager to get on with my paddle so I didn’t waste any time. While the launch itself was nice, I wasn’t feeling the overall vibe of the “park” (if you could even call it that). BUT, the park had two places to launch, and they are free public access points to the bay, and public access is ALWAYS a good thing, so I’m not complaining.

The cool thing about paddling this region is the topography. I am so used to salt marshes and flat land, that I forget that the upper portions of Delmarva have a little elevation. I paddled by some pretty tall cliffs, which I haven’t really seen anywhere on Delmarva except down near Cape Charles, Kiptopeke, and Savage Neck Dunes.

Wildlife along this route was minimal, except for the vultures, cormorants, and LOTS of eagles. If you haven’t seen many eagles around the Chesapeake, I would definitely recommend this area – I didn’t count, but I must’ve seen at least two dozen, both juveniles and adults.

In just 90 minutes, I arrived at Betterton’s boat ramp. My average moving speed was 4 mph – that might be a record for me!

Now, years ago, I mapped out possible legs for this goal, and I had planned the section from Betterton to Grove Neck to be out-and-back style, as there is no public access at the end of Grove Neck Road. Since I was still feeling pretty strong after 6 miles, and I had only been paddling for an hour and a half, I decided to go for the additional 4 miles to go to, and from, Grove Neck.

The winds were almost nonexistent at this point, and boat traffic was minimal, so paddling across the mouth of the Sassafras River was smooth. Once I got to Grove Neck, I took photos of where I turned around, so that when I eventually approached this spot from the north, I would know how far south I needed to paddle (you know, to connect the dots, so to speak).

The last mile was exhausting. I’m not really sure why – 10 miles is usually still in my comfort zone, but I think there’s some kind of mentality that I get in when I know I’m in the last mile of a paddle; doesn’t matter how many miles I cover!

Once I arrived at Betterton, I loaded up my kayak, drove to Still Pond to retrieve my bike, and headed home. The drive home was over 2 hours, so I’m glad I paddled two legs, to make it feel more worth it! I’m thinking next time I make it a multi-day excursion and just cross Kent County of my list altogether in one trip!

I’ve now paddled 484 miles of my ~650 mile goal!

Here’s the path I took today:

It’s May 2nd and I finally got my boat in the water for the first time this season! The Chesapeake’s water temperature is just now at 60 degrees, the forecast was 75+ degrees and 5 knot winds – perfectly timed for my day off.

Since I haven’t paddled at all in 6 months, I didn’t want to do anything super long, so I planned a one-way trip around the southern tip of Eastern Neck National Wildlife Refuge – 5.6 miles of paddling, and 2 miles on the bike, so pretty low-key excursion. What was NOT low-key was the drive there from Ocean Pines! 2.5 hours is the longest I’ve driven to go paddling on Delmarva (definitely drove further for my gig with Virginia Water Trails, but it was long for a day trip on Delmarva).

After dropping Patrick off at daycare, I made the long trek up to Rock Hall. I dropped my bike off at Bogles Wharf and then drove to Ingleside (both landings are within the refuge). Since the water was barely 60 degrees, I changed into my farmer-jane wetsuit before launching.

Although it was kinda overcast and a little foggy, it felt great to be out on the water. The bay was incredibly calm which made for a relaxing paddle. The tide and wind (what little there was) were even with me for a good chunk of the trip. Bald eagles were EVERYWHERE, a few osprey, a few cormorants, and that was about the extent of the wildlife sightings.

By the time I rounded the southern tip, the fog had burned off and the sun came out, however a few times I was sure I heard thunder. A storm never brewed, so it was probably just some large ships in the distance, or construction nearby, but my storm anxiety had me checking the radar on my phone a few times.

Before I knew it, I was at Bogles Wharf, swapping my kayak for my bike. As I was locking up my kayak, a man pulled out of his parking spot, rolled down his window as he was leaving, and said, “Wow! You really know what you’re doing! You crept right up there and I didn’t see or hear you coming!” Umm… okay? Your truck was facing me as I paddled toward you for the last 30 minutes…? Always interesting characters at boat ramps (and sometimes sketchy, which is why I carry pepper-spray and a knife with me!).

From there I hopped on my bike and rode the 2 miles back to my car. I had had plans to change out of my wetsuit, but there were a few people in the parking lot, so I opted not to and rode the 2 miles in my wetsuit! Nobody was parked at Ingleside so I changed there. Once I loaded up my bike, I headed back to Bogles to load my kayak, and I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring some of the trails at the refuge.

I’m glad I didn’t paddle much further. I’m embarrassed to say that I was tired and blisters had started to form on my thumbs. And I got a super sweet sun burn – used sunscreen on my face, neck, and hands, but not my arms when I rolled up my sleeves. Rookie mistake! Gotta get back up to my normal 10-15 mile trips – the winter made me super rusty!

Here’s the path I took:

I have news. Like big news. I bought a new kayak! I wasn’t even seriously looking for one, but as I jumped on the facebook marketplace in search of a kiddie kayak for Patrick, I just stumbled across this beautiful Perception Solé. This model has been discontinued, and the kayak itself is 20 years old, but the previous owner kept it in incredible condition. It’s 2 feet longer than my trusty Necky Looksha, and it came with a rudder, skirt, and carbon fiber paddle. It was totally meant to be, because I was able to paddle my friend Kim’s Solé on Tuesday evening to be sure I liked it, and then it just so happened that Coastal Kayak in Fenwick, was offering a touring kayak course yesterday. Mitch, the owner and trainer, let me join in just for the wet exit and self-rescue training. This is something I learned how to do back in 2007 in New Zealand, but I hadn’t done a self-rescue since, so it was great to brush up and make sure I could still do it, in the unlikely, but possible, situation that I should capsize while paddling alone.

New kayak, check. Training in new kayak, check. So today it was time to log some miles in the new boat. And I decided to go big or go home: 13.25 miles logged today. I honestly can’t tell you the last time I paddled that far. Last fall I did some 11-12 mile stretches, but that was it.

I started my day at 5 a.m. and drove all the way to Kent Island. After 2 hours in the car, I stopped at Matapeake Park to unload my kayak before heading down to Romancoke with my bike. The Chesapeake was choppy. The wind was definitely stronger than predicted. I stood on the shoreline hemming and hawing over what to do. Not only was the wind more than expected, it was also WNW and slamming into the bulkhead at Matapeake, creating a sloshy mess of a current to deal with. I almost backed out, but something in me nudged me to drop off my bike instead, and launch at Romancoke Pier (instead of the opposite). So I did.

As I was locking up my bike, a man that worked for the county came by to tell me I had to pay to park. I explained what I was doing, and that I was about to leave anyway, and that I’d pay the fee when I parked down at Romancoke. He still didn’t quite understand the logistics of my trip, and told me to park in the overflow parking area a half mile away. No, dude. I need my bike close to the boat ramp. He still seemed confused, but wrapped up the conversation by making sure I locked my bike up (yes).

I then drove down to the Romancoke Pier, paid the parking fee, and launched my kayak. Being on the east side of Kent Island, the waters were pretty calm, since the wind was from the northwest. The first 4 miles flew by, but the whole time I was stressing over the choppy waters on the west side of the island, and at about the 4.5-mile mark, I’d be rounding the tip of the island and heading out into the Chesapeake. I was mentally preparing myself for the possibility of turning around and heading back to Romancoke if it was too windy and choppy, but I soooo didn’t want to do that. I would feel so defeated.

As my new kayak cut through the first little waves, it was actually kinda fun! I felt totally in control, despite paddling the tippy-est kayak I’ve ever owned. And even though the waves were coming at an awkward, annoying angle, it was totally doable. After about a mile though, it was getting old. There was a small little cove that was slightly out of the wind that I ducked into to check my GeoTracker app. I still had 8 more miles. EIGHT more miles of this choppy crap?! Although I felt exhausted, I knew my new kayak could do it. I made my way back out of the cove and back into the bay and to my surprise, it was like someone turned the fan down. The wind was dying out right before my eyes.

It still wasn’t calm enough to stop to take photos, but the water was way more manageable and enjoyable to paddle. The variety of houses along the shoreline was interesting. Everything from tiny, run-down ranchers to massive mansions with manicured lawns. On the other side of me was another interesting sight – ships! Although anchored, this was the closest I’ve been to giant ships since I started this journey 9 years ago.

The final 2 miles was a bit of a struggle. My arms were getting tired and my HANDS actually hurt from gripping the paddle. Not sure if it was just because this was the longest paddle I’ve done yet this season, or if I had a death grip on the paddle, but some of my fingers are still sore as I write this post!

Pulling up to the boat ramp I felt pretty accomplished. From a 2 hour drive and nearly backing out, to fighting the chop in a brand new kayak, I not only felt accomplished physically for finishing over 13 miles, but I also felt accomplished for listening to my intuition. Had I not listened to that nudge, I would have either turned around and drove the 2 hours back home, or I would have started my paddle directly in choppy waters and would have been miserable from the get-go. Oh, and another thing to feel accomplished about? Despite fighting the wind and chop, I logged my fastest speed yet – 3.9 mph! (it doesn’t sound fast, hah)

My trip wrapped up with a 6 mile bike ride on the Kent Island South Trail, and a stop at Rise Up in Cambridge.

Here’s the path I took today:

(paddled May 17 – forgot to publish the post until today, July 19)

The Chesapeake Bay is finally above 60 degrees F so I felt comfortable logging some miles for the first time in 2021. I did paddle once already this season on Nassawango Creek with my sister a few weeks ago, but this was the first official trip for the blog this year.

And today was ANOTHER FIRST. It was the first time I hit the water since landing some contract work that actually PAYS ME to go kayaking and write about it! On March 1 of this year, I landed a sweet side-hustle doing some marketing for Virginia Water Trails. The contract is a year long and I’ll be running their facebook, instagram, writing blog posts, and a few other odds and ends. I still can’t quite believe I’ve turned my hobby/passion into a legit source of income (not legit enough to leave my job with Delaware, hah)!

And WOW what an adventure this trip was for my first blog-worthy paddle! I started my day by leaving the house at 6 a.m. and arriving at Hacksneck Landing (a place only suitable for launching car-top vessels) by 7:30. The weather was absolutely perfect. Clear skies, 60 degrees, and calm winds.

Right as I was about to launch, this sweet dog came to wish me farewell! Hacksneck Landing is right adjacent to a working waterfront area and I believe the dog belonged to the watermen there.

The tide was definitely on the lower side, although I never actually look at any tide charts before planning this trip. And since the tide was low, it was fun to explore some of the exposed shoals in this area, something you don’t see in other areas of the Chesapeake. There were tons of sandy beaches to explore along the coast of the mainland, and there were also some sand bars and sandy islands to explore, not far from the mainland. Check out some of my views:

As if the scenery around me wasn’t enough to keep me happy, as I approached the mouth of Pungoteague Creek, a pretty sweet thing happened. DOLPHINS. Like a whole pod of them. As I was heading north, I started to spot them coming in from the west. Not a ton of them, but probably… 2-3 dozen? As I got closer, I started hearing them come up for air all around me! The wind was pretty calm so it was really easy to hear them. The only other time I’ve been THAT close to dolphins was on our honeymoon in Edisto, SC. One of them breached the surface only 10-15 feet from my kayak! But dang it’s hard to get photos or video of dolphins; you just never know where they’re going to come up for air next. And it was interesting as they seemed to split up a little bit. About half of them headed eastward, and another headed north, and at one point there were dolphins on all sides of me! It was so freakin’ cool!!!

Once I passed the pod and came down off my high from that whole experience, I decided to take a slight detour and paddle a narrow creek that is a recommended water trail on the Virginia Water Trails website. As soon as I entered the creek, a HUGE oyster farm and working waterfront came into view. This operation was enormous! Bigger than anything I’d ever seen while on the water before! I briefly spoke to one of the guys working and he explained the difference between the two types of oyster cages they have. One was the typical “cage” that I’ve seen before, but the other was a network of black, floating, plastic contraptions. He said oysters were growing inside, but the the black plastic material keeps the worms from getting into the oysters. He said worms have destroyed up to 15% of their harvest in previous years. Then he explained that some of the oysters were going to straight to local restaurants, and other were going to wholesale. Very cool. I’m so glad I stopped to ask. I typically would’ve been too shy to bother them, but I’ve learned a lot about aquaculture and the oyster industry in Virginia lately, so I couldn’t NOT ask!

Once I got out of the creek and turned north, the wind was coming at me out of the northwest (could’ve sworn the forecast said ESE – why does this ALWAYS happen to me?). I paddled by more and more sandy beaches, and finally took a turn east to get to Broadway Landing. The cove in front of the landing was large and VERY shallow. I did have to get out twice to haul my kayak over a mudflat. Once I got on land, the sun was high and the view was beautiful.

Now you’re probably wondering how I got back to my car, 8.5 miles later. Typically I would have brought my bike and did the whole drop off kayak, switcharoo to the bike crap, but not this time! I recently heard about a new local business on the shore called “Wave Riders”. They’re like a private version of door dash and uber. So the day before I reserved a shuttle to come pick me up! Jahiem arrived right on time, helped me load my kayak on top of his car, and drove me the 16 miles back to my car in Hacksneck – and saved me from biking 15 miles! I’ll definitely be using them again for future paddling trips!

And as always, here’s the path I took:

Today was such a perfect day from start to finish. I began the day by kayaking from Claiborne to Romancoke, and thoroughly enjoyed blue skies, 70 degree weather, and flat calm waters. I also had a buddy shuttle me back to my car – my Aunt Margaret Ann! We stopped for lunch and a hike on the way back to to Claiborne. I can’t thank her enough for helping me complete this leg since it would’ve been WAY too far (and dangerous!) for me to pedal.

After dropping Patrick off at school this morning, I headed straight to Claiborne, about an hour and 45 minute drive from home. Since I used to live in St. Michaels, it was like visiting an old friend. I used to ride my bike to Claiborne Landing from St. Michaels on a somewhat regular basis, and the drive made me mildly nostalgic for my single, only-have-to-care-about-myself stage of my life in my mid-20s.

The morning had been foggy, but the fog had lifted enough for me to paddle safely by the time I got on the water around 9:45. And the paddling was soooo easy. The water was so flat. It felt like butter. My kayak gracefully sliced right through the whole way. The trip was definitely more of a “connector” trip, rather than a scenic journey though. The scenery was blah, and the only wildlife I saw consisted of a single jellyfish and a handful of gulls and common loons (loons are still cool though).

It was also a very short paddle in comparison to come of my other trips, at just 4.5 miles. I was done in an hour and 15 min, which might be a record for me! My Geotracker app said my average moving speed was 3.89 mph!

When I arrived at the Romancoke fishing pier, I wasn’t quite sure where to get out, since I had never actually been to this spot before. But I figured it out by paddling under the pier and finishing at the official kayak launch. And perfect timing – Margaret Ann was there on the beach, waiting for me and reading a book.

Here’s the path I took:

We loaded my kayak (and all of my crap) into her truck and headed up the road to check out Terrapin Nature Park for a hike, and then grabbed lunch at the Jetty on Kent Narrows. Wow, we were sitting on an outdoor, waterfront deck, and I was wearing a tank top… in November!

It’s November and I’m still kayaking! Today I left work early to squeeze in some paddling because it was sunny, 70 degrees, and 5 knot winds; no way could I pass that up!

Now if you read my last post, I kinda poured my heart out, so this post is going to be short and to the point. In fact, the paddling trip was short and to the point too – just 5 miles!

I began by driving to South Bowers Beach to drop off my bike (locked it to a guardrail). I then drove to Big Stone Beach to launch my kayak. Big Stone is so bizarre to me. It’s this weird, forgotten little beach village of maybe 8 houses right on the beach, some of which have been abandoned. There’s a small public access area, but few people seem to know about it and there’s probably only parking for half a dozen cars on the side of the road.

The water temperature was 59 today, and if I paddle in anything less than 60, I wear my farmer-Jane wetsuit. Some might say it was plenty warm between the water and the weather and that a wetsuit was overkill, but since I’m paddling alone, I don’t take any chances. I’ve taken enough trainings that cover hypothermia to know that freak accidents happen.

As soon as I launched and started heading north, this was my view:

Aaaannnddd… that was essentially my view for the full 5 miles! Beautiful, sandy, empty beaches, but that was it. I saw a few bald eagles and a handful of gulls, and… that was it.

Finally I landed on the south end of Bowers Beach and pulled my kayak ashore. See? I told you this post would be short and to the point!

I lugged my kayak about 100 yards to wear I locked up my bike. From there I swapped my kayak for my bike, but before I could ride back, I had to change out of my wetsuit. And let me just tell you. Peeling off a skin-tight wetsuit on the side of the road in the marsh was, well, interesting to say the least. I was also trying to time it so no cars were driving by. I was wearing a bathing suit underneath, but I’d still feel super awkward if someone witnessed my extremely ungraceful wardrobe change on the side of the road! Here’s a couple photos of where this all occurred:

I finally got situated, hopped on my bike, and rode back to Big Stone Beach which was about 7.5 miles. When I got there, several other cars had arrived and I saw some people fishing on the beach. As I was loading my bike into the car, a lady next to my car rolled down her window and said “Mindy, say hi!” I turned around to greet a toothless woman and her kitten, Mindy, sitting on her dashboard. Um. What? I politely smiled and said “aww she looks sweet” (about the cat, not the woman) and the woman went on to tell me how great the kitten is on a leash. Okay? I smiled again and said “oh how sweet, how awesome, have a great night!” And then I jumped in the car and left Big Stone Beach. I told you the place is bizarre. Clearly attracts some interesting characters too!

Here’s the path I took today:

Today I paddled 11.8 miles from Happy Campers Farm (the cool AirBnB property from my last post) to Gerry Boyle Park in Cambridge. Here’s the path I took:

Today’s paddle was significant for a variety of reasons. I’m having a hard time prioritizing and laying out those reasons in a way to create an engaging post here, but here goes.

For one, paddling this stretch filled in a major gap on my map! I’ve officially surpassed 400 miles towards my overall goal AND there is now a continuous line on my map from the northernmost tip of Talbot County, allll the way down a few miles south of Onancock, VA. Check out my progress page to see the full map.

But now there’s a bigger reason why this paddle was so significant. I mentioned in the last post that my family is going through some pretty tough stuff. We lost my grandfather at the end of September, and just 5 days later, my mom lost her 4-year battle with ovarian cancer. The last few weeks have been filled with every emotion you can think of. And I’m exhausted. I was exhausted before I even hit the water this morning.

So as you can probably see, today’s trip was also significant because it was the first time I had been paddling since my mom’s passing. And this is the first time I’m writing a blog post knowing that my mom won’t be reading it (pretty sure she was my only follower until like last year!). My mom is the original inspiration in my life for pursuing adventures in the outdoors. She ensured that my sister and I played outside as kids, she told us stories about solo hiking with her dogs when she was a child, and she even taught me things like how to identify wildflowers and what the song of a bobwhite sounds like. When I moved to the beach and started working as a state park naturalist, I was able to teach her similar things in the beach version, which was pretty cool.

My sister, Julia, has spent a great deal of time on the east coast (she lives in Colorado) over the last 2 months which I am incredibly grateful for. I can’t imagine going through the last few weeks without her. Today, I was lucky enough to have her shuttle me from one end of my journey to the other (so I didn’t have to bring my bike). Julia has been here for over 3 weeks, and today she flew back home, but on her drive back to the airport, she gave me a ride. I actually hugged her good-bye right before launching, not knowing when I’ll see her next. I was feeling a bit stressed about the fog and uncertainty of the paddle, so I felt like I didn’t fully absorb the moment of saying good-bye. Just a quick hug and a “text me when you get to the airport.”

Like I said, a big concern I had today was fog. Patrick had a 2-hour delay and it was pretty thick on the drive up from Ocean Pines. It was starting to burn off a little when I launched at 8:30, but visibility was still touch and go for a while. I decided to hug the shoreline for peace of mind. This added a little bit of mileage to my trip, but it made me feel safe. And I sure as heck wasn’t going to forgo 5 knot winds and flat calm waters! Birding wasn’t bad either. I saw a good handful of common loons, several eagles, and two coots! Coots are sooo dang cute!

Around 10:00 the fog lifted. It was like someone pulled back the drapes and all of a sudden I could see for miles. Perfect timing as I was coming around a point and about to head across some open water towards Cambridge. I no longer needed to hug the shoreline, and I felt confident to paddle among the boaters in the area.

Here you can see the progression of the fog lifting:

Speaking of boaters, I had an encounter today that was way cool! Matt, The Choptank Riverkeeper. I’m pretty sure most people that see me paddling solo in open water or remote locations, think I’m mildly crazy, but I’m okay with that. I saw his boat coming towards me from a distance and when he spotted me, he slowed down, we waved to each other, and then I decided to paddle over and say hello. Why was I excited to talk to the Riverkeeper? Well, I follow him on facebook, and my uncle has been a riverkeeper for something like 20 years now? He was one of the first Riverkeepers to work under the Waterkeeper Alliance. Larry Baldwin – google him. He’s been in some famous documentaries and is seriously badass when it comes to fighting for clean waterways. Anyway, turns out Matt knows my uncle! But I mean, even Natalie Portman knows my uncle! Nevertheless, Matt seemed like a cool guy, keeping a close watch on the river, pointed out Horn Point (UMD Center for Env Studies) which I was curious if I had passed it yet, and he seemed impressed with my ridiculous paddling goal. Oh, and he did make a comment about how he was wondering who the hell was paddling solo in the middle of the river – hah! That would be me.

After wrapping up the conversation, I continued on my way, but was exhausted at that point. I really struggled in the last 1-2 miles and I don’t even really know why. An 11-mile paddle is usually within my paddling comfort zone. And I hadn’t had to stress about the fog in over 2 hours. And there was no wind to fight. By the time I got off the water, my hands hurt and my arms felt like jell-o. I even struggled to load my kayak back on top of my car.

It didn’t hit me until I started writing this post that the reason I was so exhausted was likely a combination of physical exertion and the emotions of the past few weeks that had drained my energy levels. But at the same time, I felt pretty accomplished by the end, regardless of how tired I was. I was proud that despite the most significant, life-altering change in my life that just happened, I was able to push on and keep chipping away at my goal. And I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without my mom. Her love of the outdoors and her encouragement to pursue my goals have been the biggest key factors in this journey of mine. And call it cheesy if you want, but there was something almost symbolic about the fog today and how it lifted so quickly. Life may have fog at times, and I may not know which direction I’m headed (like how I’ve been feeling lately without my mom), but at any given moment, sometimes when it’s least expected, the fog will burn off and everything will make sense again.

Here are some photos of my mom kayaking ❤