In April, 2003 I wanted to canoe on the Cahaba with my two sons. I chose Caldwell Mill Road as the put-in since it was near our house. Unfortunately, access at the bridge was fenced-off. So, I did what I had seen my father do years before when trying to find a river put-in. I got creative and tried to find a homeowner who might have a path to the river. I was surprised when one of the first doors I knocked on belonged to an older woman I happened to know. She confirmed there was access at the back of her property, but it included a 4-5 foot drop to the Cahaba.
Not only did we have a vertical drop to negotiate, but recent rains had a lot of water moving down the river. There was a small strip of ground at the river’s edge that we could climb down to with our gear. However, all we could do with our canoe was to lower it into the water with the painter (rope) that was tied to the bow. As we started to do this, my 12 year-old son asked, “What if the rope unties?” I confidently reassured him that it wouldn’t.

As the current caught the canoe’s stern it’s force loosened my invincible knot and our canoe was freed to head downstream without us. Things happened quickly at this point. In one motion, I jumped to the river bank and then toward the canoe. My landing was effective enough, but not great- I was holding myself halfway out of the water, with one arm on each gunwale (the top edge of the canoe’s sides) at the bow. On the bank, one of my boys was laughing and the other wondering if he should cry. I don’t know how, but I was able to climb into the canoe without swamping it. Then I realized that I was floating downstream and had nothing in the canoe- the paddles were still with the boys, now too far away to help. I looked around for my next move, and found I was still near the bank. I grabbed some over-hanging branches, was able to slow the canoe’s momentum and then pull over to shore. We had a nervous laugh about the knot and my heroics, and loaded up to finally start the float.

The other major unexpected challenge on this trip was a large oak tree that had recently fallen across the width of the river. There was not enough space to go under it, and the speed of the current made it too dangerous to attempt getting out onto the trunk and pulling the canoe over it. We cautiously paddled toward its base and found there was a small flow of water which had worked around the now-vertical root structure. The flow was just enough for us to slide the canoe through by pulling on the upright roots. The remainder of the trip was uneventful- except for one other lesson we learned. Our canoe only had two seats, so my nine-year old son was sitting between them, probably on nothing more than a towel. I had not yet learned about the “J-stroke”, so my paddling frequently swapped from one side to the other. This style of paddling gradually brings a lot of water into the bottom of the boat- not a significant problem unless you have someone sitting in that water. My son was quite chilled when we reached our take-out at Lorna Road. This trip did not end too soon for him.

Many lessons were learned from this trip:
Overconfidence is a poor substitute for checking your equipment well.
Listen to the thoughts of others- even if they are children.
When the first plan doesn’t work, be resourceful.
You can’t prevent what you don’t think about in advance.

What lessons have you learned on the Cahaba River?
VB