{"id":13225,"date":"2017-08-05T15:00:56","date_gmt":"2017-08-05T22:00:56","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/community.nrs.com\/?p=13225"},"modified":"2017-08-07T16:06:25","modified_gmt":"2017-08-07T23:06:25","slug":"a-midnight-manhattan-paddle","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2017\/08\/05\/a-midnight-manhattan-paddle\/","title":{"rendered":"A Midnight Manhattan Paddle"},"content":{"rendered":"

After rushing back home to Idaho to take advantage of record flows and attempt a 300-mile speed descent on the Salmon River, I boarded yet another plane to the East Coast to settle back into school life, enjoy time with my much-missed partner in crime, Jess, and wind down with some mellow paddling. Since I skipped syllabus week, because nothing happens in syllabus week\u2014or so I thought\u2014I had some serious catching up to do. But to let my body heal after that complete whitewater-bar-brawl in the potato state, I shot to “rural” Western Mass, my Tacoma still brandishing its Idaho plates. (When, exactly, does that become illegal?) I wanted nothing else but to have a low-key weekend of paddling on the Deerfield River. That night, Jess and I shared a roomy twin-sized bed at the clinic she was shadowing. It was a mattress primed for sharing when seeking comfort and relaxation; throw a crying baby or two in the mix definitely enhanced the experience. Needless to say, it wasn\u2019t sizing up to be the relaxing weekend I had hoped for.\u00a0At least we could look forward to sleeping well the next night in the Tacoma.<\/p>\n

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A couple of laps on the Deerfield, a Massachusetts favorite, left our souls happy and our bodies ready for a nap. Things were going great. I was drinking a beer, eating some of my favorite Kettle chips and about to nap when we met him, Kenny.<\/p>\n

Kenny, a New York local, bucking most of my NYC stereotypes, rolled up in a massive dodge with at least eight different river crafts strapped to the top. Kenny, it turned out, was a kayaking enthusiast of all varieties, including sea kayaking, and tonight, of all nights, was the PERFECT evening to circumnavigate Manhattan, otherwise known as the \u2018isle of New York.\u2019 You know the one? Wall street. United Nations HQ. 1.64 million people living on an island that has a 32-mile circumference. Yeah, that\u2019s the one. All we had to do was drive four hours to New York, forego sleep, rally through some shady parts of Brooklyn, sneak three 16-foot kayaks under darkness quietly over pavement, put on the Harlem river and circumnavigate 32 miles starting at 1 am. Kenny assured us this was a \u201cmust do.\u201d After a night of babies crying, cats howling, and being pushed off the edge of the bed like a little kid at a sleep over, it seemed only logical go for it.<\/p>\n

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Everything went as planned, mostly. Our one-hour pregame nap before loading kayaks at Kenny\u2019s house turned into listening to cars and mosquitos whiz in our ears. As flash backs of my 300 miler wafted over me, the way a familiar smell brings childhood memories rushing back, I whipped into a gas station and purchased far more Red Bull and coffee drinks than could ever be good for one\u2019s heart in a lifetime.<\/p>\n

By the time we hit what felt like a placid body of water, the tide was starting to move upstream, overcoming the downward flow of the Harlem River. We were quickly swept upstream past Yankee Stadium, under the Washington Bridge and past the Bronx. This was such an insane way to experience New York for the first time. I was making fun of Jess for wearing her NRS drysuit right about the time the rain started to fall. She looked at me smugly. I was reminded of the time I had made fun of Max Lawrence for wearing socks with his sandals in Peru<\/a>, right before my feet and ankles were destroyed by sand flies.<\/p>\n