Delaware River Float Trip

Work was getting to be a drag. I was waging a battle with the microbe minded morons down town over the proper way to use and interpret the results of the GPS receiver data on a well location project. A simple thing like maintaining proper alignment of the antennae to eliminate as many false signals and echoes as possible was beyond their grasp. The funniest part of the whole thing, the engineers that designed the particular system we were using had heard my concerns and agreed with my comments. Time to get away from the grind and relax.

A light rain had been falling for the past several days, typical of New Jersey weather in autumn. It was expected to clear up by Friday and Saturday, so we decided to take our chances and go for a camping trip. We loaded up my kayak, a tube, and a canoe and headed to the Delaware Water Gap. We decided that even if the weather didn't cooperate with us, at least we wouldn't have to face the daily boredom of being among bureaucrats.

This is strange, we got to the tent site long before sunset, the clouds had parted, the site was fairly level, and several nice logs were already near the fire ring. The air was actually calm while we set up the tent and stowed our gear. We set up our shuttle ride and settled down for a restful evening.

I think it was around 1 or 2 when the rain started falling again. A steady deluge that played as war drums throughout the night. I decided to sleep it out and awoke to clear skies.

We three ate a hearty breakfast and headed to the putin. We decided to leave the tube (in which we had thought we'd keep the cooler), and loaded down the canoe with most of our stuff. We tied our supplies into the canoe and shoved off. The gunwales of the canoe had about an inch of clearance to the waterline. I was worried for my friends in their canoe. In addition to the loading, only one had experience paddling a canoe (but knew very little about reading river currents). It turned out that the stronger of them was a quick study and had no trouble correcting their path.

We had gone downstream about a mile when, as if to remind us that normally work started at 8:00, a boater that polite people would refer to as an asshole showed up nearby. He saw how the canoe was loaded very near to its limit and decided to create some rather large wakes as close to us as possible. I almost enjoyed the action, as my kayak would ride his wake nicely and I could maneuver much easier than my friends in the canoe. I paddled further downstream hoping to lure the idiot boater in my direction.

It worked. He headed towards me in a path that told me he was a novice boater. The river was about 6 feet higher than normal for the year. I had paddled to river left of a small island that was completely awash. My friends were on river right of the island. In order to get to me, the fool ran right over top of the island and his engine sputtered to a stop. When we regrouped, we laughed so hard we almost capsized our own boats. We could hear a few occasional obscenities as the idiot furiously worked to get his engine started.

About � mile downstream we ran into our first ranger. After showing him that the canoeists had proper floatation, we told him of the stalled boat. He roared away creating another wake that threatened to capsize the canoe, but at least he wasn't sticking around us.

We paddled very little. The current was sweeping us down stream at about 5-6 knots. Lot's of water meant more waves than rocks, and we enjoyed riding the wave trains. I tried to surf a little, with some success. We regularly changed lead throughout the day. About every hour a new patrol boat would pull over to the canoe and check its floatation. These rangers were getting a bit annoying. Is it possible they were really trying to find out if we were the people whistling "Dueling Banjos" from "Deliverance" at any place we could catch an echo?

We floated along watching the local life. Hawks made their lazy circles as they hunted. A snake swam past us. Power boaters towed skiers. Our favorite form of scenery, the topless mermaid, remained as elusive on the river as she is on the seas (we had to settle for humans).

About every 2-� hours, we took a break. My legs needed to support some weight on a regular basis or else they would have gone to sleep. A Prijon Invader is not meant for touring, but it does play nicely. I had lots of fun riding the wave trains on the downstream side of the bridges. We were not keeping good track of our location until we spotted Tocks Island about 10 miles above our planned take out. We had to stop soon, or our planned 2 to 3 day trip would be over in about 2 more hours.

We pulled into one of the riverside campsites, pitched our tent, gathered some wood for a campfire, and about half an hour later the patrol boat hailed us and asked where we had put in and where we planned to take out. About every hour from then until dark, another ranger would do the same thing. I guess the rangers don't communicate with each other or keep a log of which campers are in which locations!

As darkness settled around us, we ate and swapped stories around the fire. We were about � mile from the nearest road, but there was a dirt access road running parallel to the river for at least 3/8 of a mile from our tent before it turned out to meet the main road. About 9:00 that night, the local police showed up to harass us. The cop thought he had seen us pull a car off the road and just wanted to make sure. Somehow, we all remained polite and he left. The cops must not check or keep logs on campers either, as the 11:00 crew also checked us out.

The next morning, I slipped out of the tent and played around with my boat. I paddled upstream about a � mile from our site and finally got around to practicing my roll (I hadn't needed to use it and since I didn't want to ruin my camera, I hoped I wouldn't have to). I made 5 attempts, 3 of which were successful. I now had the confidence to face the monster wave train off the Route 80 bridge. With high water, some of the waves were over 3' from trough to crest. My Invader wasn't as stable as my Lettmann in waves, but I had a blast riding that roller coaster. After I made it past the last of the waves, I turned around to watch the canoe make its run.

A couple of miles more and we reached our takeout. We ate lunch at my favorite joint on Rt. 46, Johnny's Hot Dogs. The trip may have ended a day earlier than planned, but it sure was fun!