By now the Tour had taken on a life of its own. I had been paddling for over a week, writing journals about our travels down the NeuseRiver almost every night—and still falling behind. I had not watched TV for over a week. I barely had time to read the paper. I was spending very little time with my family. It was Tour De Neuse 24/7. Today was no different, by the time we finished shuttling our vehicles down to HowellWoodsEnvironmentalEducationCenter (in southern JohnstonCounty) and got back to the put-in, it was almost 3:00PM. We still had 15 miles to paddle. I was joined by Charles Wilson, a Baptist Minister, at the last minute. I met Charles on Day 1 of Tour De Neuse, which now seemed like months ago. He had mentioned he might try and join me further down the river.
At the Smithfield boat ramp, several families were enjoying a relaxing day on the water at the commons. A Mexican woman was throwing a cast net trying to catch small schools of minnows swimming in the river. Not far downstream, two young boys were playing on an exposed sand bar, chasing and splashing one another. They were fully clothed and soaked, clearly enjoying the cool water on this hot 85 degree day. Charles was paddling his special Hobie Kayak that has an optional bicycle paddle, which works great except when the water is low.
Two boys playing in the Neuse
Despite our late start, I was really looking forward to this section of the river called by many names—the Neuse Low Grounds, the “Let Lones”, the Neuse Islands, The Neuse Bottom Lands and the “Mashes.” Once you leave Smithfield and cross under the I-95 bridge, it is approximately 25 miles of roadless undeveloped wilderness until you come to RichardsonBridge. Even after RichardsonBridge, you are still pretty much out in the middle of nowhere until you get to Goldsboro (50 miles down river from Smithfield). I knew that once I passed under I-95, my connection to Raleigh (going home in the evenings) and daily routines would stop. I was being pulled downriver from the urbanized headwaters of the upper Neuse toward the rural middle Neuse. Things down here move at a slower, more relaxed pace. I looked forward to it.
Charles using bicycle peddles
This is one of my favorite sections of the river, wild feral hogs, cypress trees and no discharge pipes! Only 1 house and a few hunting shacks can be seen from the river over this long stretch. The “Low Grounds” are primarily bottomland and flood plane spanning more than 5 miles across in some locations—wider than areas of the Mississippi flood plane. The river twists and turns creating oxbows and small islands. You can see remnants of old river channels. This section of the Neuse is in constant flux, changing course during periodic flooding. A few years ago, I took my Riverkeeper boat down this section at flood stage. I ventured far up Swift Creek, veered off onto Middle Creek far back into swampy low lying areas where people rarely get to see my boat. Further down in the Low Grounds, I maneuvered so far back into the flood plane it was easy to get turned around and loose the direction of the river. At times, I would shut off the motor, using my push-pole to silently drift past the massive Tupelo and hard wood trees submersed by the floodwaters. I saw giant Gar, a pack of wild feral hogs, beaver and otters. I looked forward to coming down here again when the waters are high. These flood prone areas are important, not only for wildlife habitat but to temporarily store water (and filter impurities) to prevent down stream flooding. North Carolina has lost roughly half of its original wetlands due to increased development occurring in the state.
Today however, the shallow waters confined us to the main channel of the Neuse. During our paddle, I received a call from T.J Lynch, Raleigh Sewage Treatment Plant Superintendent who called to apologize for missing me on the Tour. I had hoped to stop at the plant with Council Member Tommy Craven, but T.J was out of town and was just now returning my message. “No problem.” I told him, the tour must go on. All was going well, until we passed under I-95 bridge. Suddenly the sky turned black and a cold rain fell on us.
I-95 Bridge
I quickly realized that in my haste to get on the water, I threw up my tent at Howell Woods and did not put my rain fly on the tent—mistake number 1. It was a drought after all. I put my laptop and gear (including my rain jacket) in the tent, which was now getting wet—mistake number 2 and 3. I was also wearing a cotton shirt—mistake number 4. My quick dry shirt was in my dry bag, but it did me little good now. I knew better, I had been on extended wilderness trips to Alaska and in the Yukon Territory. I am usually well prepared, but the 80 degree weather lulled me into thinking this would be the 6th day in a row of beautiful paddle weather. Wrong!
Charles Wilson
The good thing about a heavy rain is you just put your head down and paddle through it. No pictures, no time to talk, just paddle, which we needed to do anyway due to our late start. “I don’t think we will get off the river until after dark.” Charles said calmly as he assessed the situation. “I think we’ll make it.” I said shivering. Finishing in the dark would not be good. Our take out at Howell Woods was a merely a steep riverbank that looked like any other embankment along the river. The campgrounds are not right on the river. You had to know where to take out. My truck was difficult to see from the river during the day, perhaps impossible at night. The temperature dropped to a cool 60 degrees. It was fairly dark out side, the sun was not returning today. The rain eventually subsided. Steam drifted off the top of the river, making for an eerie site. Anything that resembled civilization was gone. It was actually really beautiful and quiet, but my cold and wet cotton shirt limited my enjoyment. Charles offered me a nylon rain poncho, which I gladly accepted.
Charles paddling through the mist
We passed by a small rubber raft, loaded with gear including several black aluminum ladders. A small green tent was set up on the sand bar along the river, but no one was around. My first thought was that it was Turkey Hunters. The majority of the people that use “Let Lones” are anglers (fishing for big catfish) and hunters. Paddling this remote and beautiful section of the river had not really caught on yet. I quickly realized the boat belonged to Derek Hemmrick, a wildlife photographer who has been working for years to publish a book on NeuseRiver wildlife. When necessary, Derek would use several of his ladders to go 70 feet up in a tree (strapping them dangerously to the side of a tree as he made his way up) just to get a good shot. From time to time, I would get messages from Derek saying: “Dean, this is Derek. If you are on the river today below Smithfield, there is a nest of baby owls on the right bank about half mile downriver from RichardsonBridge.” He would describe other landmarks to help me find the nest. The only problem is I would usually get the message just before a public hearing or when I was checking messages before a storm water meeting. I wish I were on the water as much as Derrick, but I would not be as effective doing this job. The greatest thing about this trip is that it has given me the opportunity to be on the water for an extended period of time and reconnect with people who enjoy time on the river. I gave a little shout, but Derek was nowhere to be found. I am sure Derrick was lying silently in the woods behind some log, waiting for the right wildlife shot to come along. I guess it was a good thing; stopping to talk would probably get us off the river after dark.
Derek Hemmrick's boat
We passed by Pole Cat Creek and Gar Gut Creek, the only distinguishable land marks (aside from the one lone house) down in the “Let Lones.” By the time we reached the take-out it was 7:45PM. Just before dark. I really looked forward to my warm fleece and a campfire back at the campgrounds. The inside of my tent was wet. I had to pick it up to dump water out of it, but thankfully I had pushed everything to the sides of the tent. Everything was fairly dry. I even covered my laptop with my rain jacket. Thank God. It certainly could have been a lot worse.
Charles graciously cooked dinner for us as I worked on the fire. He even made a banana chocolate chip cake for dessert. After dinner, I made a pot of coffee and apologized to Charles for having to work on my journals. He did not seem to mind having to retire early. He said he joined me on this stretch because it was desolate and quite. He was looking forward to a good nights sleep. I originally planned to sit next to the fire with my laptop, but it began to rain again. Sitting in my small tent with a lap top and sufficient light was not easy to pull off, but I managed. I worked on the journals until about 11:30 PM before retiring. (Click here to read day 10)
