One night as scouts and men from Boy Scout Troop 96 of Vestavia were sitting around a campfire after rafting the Ocoee River, a father talked about a backpacking trip he and his son made in Philmont, New Mexico.  He described the great experience they had and said that it was his penultimate scouting experience.  As we drove home the next day, I brought up the possibility that the word penultimate was incorrect. The father was relating what he considered to be the best trip he had made while involved with scouts.  Someone quickly confirmed via the internet that his vocabulary choice was wrong.  He had mistakenly described that trip as his “next to last” scouting experience.

Penultimate accurately depicts the float we made from Trussville’s Civitan Park in March, 2020. I had wanted to float Section 1 of the Cahaba River for several years.  As I paddled “new” sections of the river and could begin considering completing every mile of the river, I decided that the stretch from Booth’s Ford to Living River would be a great “last run” because it had few shoals, was not too long, or too far from home and would therefor allow my family the opportunity to finish the Cahaba with me.  After the canoeing season of 2019 the only other part I had not done was near its origin.  

Like most trips on the Cahaba River above the fall line, being able to canoe from Trussville depends on the water level, which is primarily is determined by rainfall.  Inadequate water means a long, physically difficult day of dragging canoes across scores of shoals.  Too much creates a dangerous situation that should only be attempted by experienced white water paddlers.  The sweet spot for this run was reportedly a narrow flow rate between 60 and 100 cfs on the USGS gage at Trussville. This often meant a trip was only possible during or right after rain.  That restriction and the limited number of Saturdays on which other activities (like family birthdays in the spring) did not take precedence, caused this trip to remain out of grasp.

My goal to paddle every mile of the Cahaba and the above difficulties almost caused me to get into trouble.  I read an article recently that points out that we think we make choices based on logic, but they are often more emotional than logical.

One weekend looked promising due to clear skies and flow rates dropping through the target range following rain on Friday.  Unfortunately, my usual canoeing partners were not available.  Another friend, who had no experience on moving water, said he was interested in making the trip with me after church on Sunday afternoon.  There were several potential problems with this plan:

• although I had done some arm-chair research on this part of the Cahaba (Foshee’s Alabama Float Trips and Canoe Rides and cahabariversociety.org) I had never seen it, much less scouted it (this ignorance factors in later);  
• I knew nothing about the abilities (and possible liabilities) of my inexperienced partner;
• We were starting this trip in the afternoon, which meant we had the unforgiving deadline of darkness.

We were saved from potential danger by another bit of poor preparation on my part.  I hurriedly loaded my canoe on the truck, attaching it with a transverse ratchet-strap mid-body, two ropes up front and a single in the back (which was just long enough to tie with a trucker’s hitch).  On I-459 near Derby Parkway, the knot loosened and the rope flew free from the tie-down in the back of the truck.  Suddenly, the bow of my canoe bounced repeatedly on my hood.  Fortunately, the other attachments held until I could pull to the side of the road. I found an additional ratchet-strap and retied the stern with it.  This delay allowed me to realize that we would have been stuck on the river after dark if we continued with this attempt.  It was only after I finally made canoed this section that I learned I was significantly underestimating the length.

In the spring of 2020 the variables seemed to align.  My younger son, Ben, and a friend, Scott Watson, were both available on a Saturday.  The weather was sunny and wind not significant.       The only concern was that the amount of water flowing was below the ideal threshold. It was gradually decreasing after an inch of rain a few days prior.  When we put in it would likely be around 45 cubic feet per second.  As long as the river was not running above the recommended range I felt we would be okay- I have pulled canoes over shoals many times.  

Ben and I would be in my 16 foot Old Town canoe.  Scott would be in his trusty mini-kayak he bought when the Academy Sports on 280 went out of business.  At 8 feet long it is the perfect size for him to be able to single-handedly haul in the back of his truck, and tote in and out of the water.  He has used it to fish in several streams since our first float together, a September, 2019 trip down the Tallapoosa River- an experience he credits with opening a new passion to him.   He has solo paddled and fished many streams since then, but his favorite is likely Blackwater Creek near Jasper.  In addition to hooking him on this form of outdoor adventure, I believe my other contribution which has helped him enjoy this more fully was the loan of a kayak paddle.  Previously he was using a short canoe paddle for propulsion and steering.  

Scott frequently asks me to let him know when I am planning a trip.  So when I told him Ben and I were going to paddle for a few hours, he eagerly signed on.  Unfortunately, even I didn’t know what we were getting into.   It was going to be a longer, tougher day than expected.

We began at a leisurely pace, frequently stopping along the way to fish at spots that looked promising.  As the morning passed, and we enjoyed the water, scenery and camaraderie, I kept my eyes out for a landmark that would let us know we were about halfway through-  a walking bridge across the river at Camp Coleman.  After we passed this, we would come to the one rapid which required careful attention. The main landmark was a large flat rock on the left with the river running through a slot on the right.  When we came to that formation without seeing the walking bridge, I decided that it must have been removed. We cautiously proceeded and both vessels made it through without a problem.  I felt good about how things were going until another hour or so downstream, we came to Camp Coleman and the walking bridge.  This meant several things.  The main one being that we were not as far along as I had thought.  So, we had several more hours on the river.  Our fishing now had to take a back seat to paddling down the river at a good pace.  The other thing was that the “rapid” we went through wasn’t the big one.  (A minor disappointment was that my GoPro 3 battery ran out and I did not get to film going through the most exciting part of the trip.)

The rapid was awaiting us downstream.  It did require some consideration, and as we stood on the rock we were able to enjoy seeing the waterfall which came into the river below.  Scott decided that his boat and skills were not ready for this challenge today.  After we “portaged” the kayak across the rock, Ben and I prepared for our attempt.  We paddled upstream, then turned and stayed to river right.  We maintained steady strokes and went smoothly through the standing wave at the bottom of the rapid.  We did end up in the water later, though.  We were approaching the tall pilings of an old railroad bridge.  As we came through a shoal we somehow lurched to the side and capsized.  

Now that I have marked this section off of my to-do list, I already want to do it again.  I think from start to finish it is one of the more scenic sections.  With its 20+ shoals it is fun to navigate.  I also had to skip many “can’t miss” fishing spots in the lower portion due to my poor planning and the time pressure that resulted.

I was concerned that the low river flow was going to create problems.  However, there was only once or twice where we had to pull the canoe across a shoal.