I’m not sure it’s ever really wise to paddle in the winter, especially if it involves dragging my kayak across mounds of shore ice to access the water.
But it was wonderful get back on the water. The ice was amazing, broken by the tide cycle, tossed to the shore - huge chunks of blue ice, rounded blobs of frozen snow, floating piles of skim ice.
Evergreen trees and high hills line our river. Atop one pine, a pair of eagles investigated an old aerie.
The river appeared clear, and since it was an incoming tide, we headed downstream so we’d see any large sheets of ice before they could block our landing. Sure enough about a mile down river, we came upon a pack of ice. Not a solid sheet, but it was jammed enough to stop us.
Returning to our ramp, we needed to land on the ice strewn shore. It was comforting to be in my dry suit, knowing I could wade or swim to the edge. In this photo, I’m sitting on a firm ice chunk, while my boat floats on slush and thin ice layers. I’m getting my ice creepers so I have a hope of walking without falling