{"id":23188,"date":"2020-07-03T12:00:23","date_gmt":"2020-07-03T19:00:23","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/community.nrs.com\/?p=23188"},"modified":"2020-07-03T12:20:00","modified_gmt":"2020-07-03T19:20:00","slug":"a-creative-guide-to-paddling-closer-to-home","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2020\/07\/03\/a-creative-guide-to-paddling-closer-to-home\/","title":{"rendered":"A Creative Guide to Paddling Closer to Home"},"content":{"rendered":"

Have you ever driven past a certain body of water\u2014possibly for years\u2014without giving it much thought? Maybe you\u2019re a whitewater paddler and this hypothetical waterbody you\u2019ve ignored is a lake, coastal inlet, or flatwater river that\u2019s on your weekday commute. You never really considered it something worth paddling. Until one day, you glance out the window and wonder, why have I never paddled that?<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"
Waccamaw River; Photo: John King<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

This spring, the pandemic caused canceled trips, the closing of popular access points, and gateway communities grew concerned about incoming visitors. Many paddlers began searching for options closer to home.<\/p>\n

Some are lucky to live in a paddling hub with plenty of world-class options, like Asheville, North Carolina, Salida, Colorado or White Salmon, Washington. Others, like me, have never been so lucky. Living far from your favorite paddling trips can require creativity to get some afternoon strokes. Never one to stop looking for places to paddle, here are a few tricks I\u2019ve learned to find, or rather see the potential for, new paddling spots.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Abandon All Assumptions.
\n<\/strong>A few years ago, my wife and I relocated to a whitewater paddler\u2019s worst nightmare\u2014or so it seemed\u2014the Low Country of South Carolina. It\u2019s a scenic region of sandy plains, blackwater swamps, and longleaf pine forest, but easily the flattest place I\u2019ve ever lived. Our neighborhood is near a bluff, which is marked by a single 20-foot topo line that folks around here call \u201chigh ground.\u201d<\/p>\n

While there\u2019s plenty of surface water, I assumed all the rivers must be the same\u2014so why bother exploring the region? Not knowing much about tannin-colored blackwater, alligator habits, or tidal rivers (where current backs up behind incoming tides for dozens of miles inland), I started taking a paddleboard upstream from town, where I\u2019d rarely seen other paddlers. I learned that floating logs look a lot like alligators to the untrained eye, and one time a floating alligator looked a lot like a log before I turned and hightailed downstream. Each time I returned, I went a little further, but I never strayed more than four miles from town.<\/p>\n