Full Moon to Inspiration

The moon isn't full until tomorrow, but 98.2 percent coverage sounds pretty good to me.

I wasn’t thinking so much about going out, but when I looked out of the window and saw that thing in the sky and that it was mostly clear-ish, I was, like, “I guess I’m gonna go.” Faced with a couple of nights of forecast clouds and rain also provided a bit of inspiration. So hard to pass up a good night with the moon. 

And that’s the magic. Going out on the river is always an activity that is there and available. I can make a last-minute decision, and in 15, I’m on the river. And I do love to be on the river. 

This sort of unique access has made it possible for me to go out a lot, and until recently I have looked at time on the river in terms of experience. There are so many things that I have seen and experienced on the water beyond just the beauty of the river corridor, and I have mostly seen the value of getting out in these terms. 

More than just something that produces awe, however, recently I have come to believe that the power of the Conestoga River goes beyond that. As the place where I live along its banks has become part of who I am, the river has done this too. 

This place and the river and the communal or solo experiences they provide permeate every part of my life. They have informed much about who I think I am, how I fit in the world and even what this world could be - not only for myself but for everybody. 

Time out on THE river, or a river, or anyplace (mostly) free from the stories of the human-constructed spaces that we primarily inhabit has the power to transform. In this, I am reminded of A.O. Wilson’s biophilia hypothesis which maintains that humans have an innate drive to connect with nature and that they can be profoundly affected by this connection.

In so many respects I am just a visitor on the river. To claim that I am a part of it would be presumptuous and untrue. The herons alight when I go by, ducks feign injury to draw me away from their spaces and the geese and other birds sound the alarm when I approach. This does not negate the fact that I am drawn to it and that it inspires. 

It inspires me - and I bet it could inspire you, too. Reach out and let’s go see. 

March 31, 2026

Not Encoded or Curated

I have written several times about how my experiences on the river are different each time I go out. The weather, season, time of day, water levels and more help create a unique experience, but another factor that helps characterize each individual trip is me; the paddler. 

Like all of the environmental factors that go into a paddle, the way I approach each float can vary wildly. Ok - so maybe “wildly” isn’t the right word here, but there are general differences in how things can go. 

Am I paddling to move? Am I chilling out? Am I floating with Mr. Vogt? Am I listening to music? Is there some other internal or personal factor that is on the paddle with me?

Despite all of the elements that help shape a river experience, I can honestly say that I don’t really try to curate anything. Sure, I make choices, but these are based on how I feel at the time: What do I want to do? In other words, there isn’t an attempt to chase a certain experience. If I had an awesome time listening to music on the river, I won’t chase that again. It unfolds. Sometimes that means one thing, sometimes that means something else entirely. 

First step though, is just getting out.

Wavy, Yo!

Went out yesterday with some intermittent sun and full-on wind. All was moving along during the wind-aided first part of the journey and just as I approached the Rocky Springs dock, the wind shifted and I had to work a bit harder to make things happen. 

It’s not that I mind the wind and if you have read a number of these posts, you know that I love going out in any conditions. Well… I will skip the all-out thunderstorm, but that’s about it. Oh, and when the river is totally frozen it’s hard to paddle, but other than that, I’m good to go out. 

Some of the time when the conditions are like this, the river develops swells. It doesn’t happen all of the time and if I knew more about fluid dynamics or wind/water physics or whatever, I could actually explain why this happens.

A few days ago, I cut through some chop, but yesterday, there were actual waves. So cool. This only really happens around the quarry where the wind has a straight shot for five-hundred meters or so. 

Not dangerous or exciting in a “I could fall in” sort of way, but waves are just one of a thousand different possibilities that keep me going out. 

One never knows what’s going to happen out there. 

Will today be the day I see that “injured” duck try to lure me away from its nest? Maybe I’ll see a deer carcass, or a mink, or an osprey. Only one way to find out. 

Reach out and join me. 

Ok, well, maybe not one foot swells, but... They waves!