On Monday, December 28th, I decided to take an adventurous paddle on the Mullica and some of its tributaries while the water level was still very high. I knew that this would be a dangerous trip, and that capsizing would be likely to occur if I wasn't careful. I recalled the time several Januaries ago when my kayak capsized and I took a spill into the frigid, fast-flowing water. What happened is that I got lodged against a fallen tree, and my boat was stuck perpendicular to the strong flow of the river. Not good! Within a few seconds, my boat took on water and I fast fell into the drink. Luckily, I was near the shore and was able to quickly climb onto dry ground where I changed into the dry clothes that I had stored in my dry bag. I reassured myself that I would not let this happen this time around, and that the trip would only be as dangerous If was careless.
I started the trip at the Pleasant Mills Church where I drug my kayak through the woods to the canal that runs from Nescochague Lake (Pleasant Mills Pond) to Nescochague Creek. I dropped my boat in the water and headed towards Nescohague Creek:
Within minutes, I arrived at the creek and began exploring the swollen swamps of the Nescochague. It was but several minutes before my nightmare came true. I was floating downstream with the swift current, using my paddle to slow my pace for purposes of safety. Just ahead of me were numerous fallen trees, and I opted to try to pass through a narrow passageway between a maple tree to my left and a fallen cedar to my right. "Be careful," I said to myself. I tried to go through the narrow passageway straight-on, but the current pulled my boat so that I was headed at it diagonally. As I approached, I realized that I was in trouble, but I could not put the breaks on. Within seconds, my kayak got wedged against the two trees. As had happened during the accident I had several years ago, my boat was stuck perpendicular to the stream flow. The water started coming into my kayak and I felt my body being pulled towards the water. Using all my might, I grasped onto the trunk of the maple and pulled myself up. Now I was standing in the kayak, hugging the tree. My nerves were in full throttle, and my knees were quivering violently. I tried to calm myself, but I could not regain control of my nerves. I knew that my shaking legs would betray me and that I would take a spill.
I looked around for high ground, but there was none in sight. It would be a long, cold swim through the floodplain. My heart was racing as I tried to figure out some way to free my boat. To my dismay, I quickly came to terms with the fact that the water was just too strong, and that I would not be able to pull the kayak free. I had little room to move my body, and the slightest move could have compromised the delicate balance that I acheived. Suddenly, the water was pulling my paddle down under. I reached down and pulled it up, only to lose my balance momentarily. Water started pouring into my boat again, but I was able to regain balance and so avoided the spill.
For the next five minutes, I weighed my options as I stood in my kayak with my arms clung to the tree. My arms were getting really tired by this point, and I knew that I couldn't hold on much longer. I braced myself for the spill, and tried to psyche myself up for it. My plan was to jump in with my dry bag in one hand, and to yell and scream in order to get my adrenaline rushing at full speed. But I was too scared to jump in. I didn't want to experience hypothermia, afterall. So I decided to try the only option I had. I turned myself around and studied the situation one last time. I figured that there was a small chance I might succeed, but there was simply no other way. I took a deep breath and went for it. I hopped backwards into my seat with enough force to give the boat some momentum in the direction away from the trees. I don't know how, but it worked! I was a very, very lucky man. I narrowly escaped what should have been a disaster. As I got back into safety, I just started shouting in ecstasy. I said my Hallelujahs and cracked open a beer to calm my nerves. Now it was time to have fun again.
As I approached West Mill fire Rd., I found that it was completely flooded over. The road had become a river:
When I got to the confluence with Atsion Creek, I decided to paddle upstream. I made my way through the swollen swamps of cedar:
Even the foot trails were flooded:
I couldn't resist:
A sumberged sign on the trail:
After exploring the Mechescatauxin for a bit, I headed back down Atsion Creek.
The canoe launch at Pleasant Mills was completely under water:
Yikes!
Ouch!
I had alot of fun out there that day. I took my time and spent six hours exploring. Can't wait to do it again.
I started the trip at the Pleasant Mills Church where I drug my kayak through the woods to the canal that runs from Nescochague Lake (Pleasant Mills Pond) to Nescochague Creek. I dropped my boat in the water and headed towards Nescohague Creek:
Within minutes, I arrived at the creek and began exploring the swollen swamps of the Nescochague. It was but several minutes before my nightmare came true. I was floating downstream with the swift current, using my paddle to slow my pace for purposes of safety. Just ahead of me were numerous fallen trees, and I opted to try to pass through a narrow passageway between a maple tree to my left and a fallen cedar to my right. "Be careful," I said to myself. I tried to go through the narrow passageway straight-on, but the current pulled my boat so that I was headed at it diagonally. As I approached, I realized that I was in trouble, but I could not put the breaks on. Within seconds, my kayak got wedged against the two trees. As had happened during the accident I had several years ago, my boat was stuck perpendicular to the stream flow. The water started coming into my kayak and I felt my body being pulled towards the water. Using all my might, I grasped onto the trunk of the maple and pulled myself up. Now I was standing in the kayak, hugging the tree. My nerves were in full throttle, and my knees were quivering violently. I tried to calm myself, but I could not regain control of my nerves. I knew that my shaking legs would betray me and that I would take a spill.
I looked around for high ground, but there was none in sight. It would be a long, cold swim through the floodplain. My heart was racing as I tried to figure out some way to free my boat. To my dismay, I quickly came to terms with the fact that the water was just too strong, and that I would not be able to pull the kayak free. I had little room to move my body, and the slightest move could have compromised the delicate balance that I acheived. Suddenly, the water was pulling my paddle down under. I reached down and pulled it up, only to lose my balance momentarily. Water started pouring into my boat again, but I was able to regain balance and so avoided the spill.
For the next five minutes, I weighed my options as I stood in my kayak with my arms clung to the tree. My arms were getting really tired by this point, and I knew that I couldn't hold on much longer. I braced myself for the spill, and tried to psyche myself up for it. My plan was to jump in with my dry bag in one hand, and to yell and scream in order to get my adrenaline rushing at full speed. But I was too scared to jump in. I didn't want to experience hypothermia, afterall. So I decided to try the only option I had. I turned myself around and studied the situation one last time. I figured that there was a small chance I might succeed, but there was simply no other way. I took a deep breath and went for it. I hopped backwards into my seat with enough force to give the boat some momentum in the direction away from the trees. I don't know how, but it worked! I was a very, very lucky man. I narrowly escaped what should have been a disaster. As I got back into safety, I just started shouting in ecstasy. I said my Hallelujahs and cracked open a beer to calm my nerves. Now it was time to have fun again.
As I approached West Mill fire Rd., I found that it was completely flooded over. The road had become a river:
When I got to the confluence with Atsion Creek, I decided to paddle upstream. I made my way through the swollen swamps of cedar:
Even the foot trails were flooded:
I couldn't resist:
A sumberged sign on the trail:
After exploring the Mechescatauxin for a bit, I headed back down Atsion Creek.
The canoe launch at Pleasant Mills was completely under water:
Yikes!
Ouch!
I had alot of fun out there that day. I took my time and spent six hours exploring. Can't wait to do it again.
Had a similar incident when I was involved with the Scouts and we took our troop down the Toms. One pair of scouts missed the take out and continued down river. 2 of us went after them and found them in a similar situation as you; their canoe had wedged sideways between 2 stumps mid-river and rolled, dumping them. They were standing on the stumps and the force of the water was too much for them to move the boat. We talked them out of it and they followed us down to RT 37 where we were met. A couple of wet and cold kids that learned a valuable lesson, they did not get their badges this time around. I hope you told someone where you were going, just in case they had to go retrieve the body 
