| Concord, Assabet, and Sudbury Rivers Concord, MA | |||||
| DATE | April 3, 2004 | TIME | 1300 to 1515 | TRIP LENGTH | 7 miles |
| WEATHER | Overcast, 40F. Wind north 5 knots. Rivers running near or above flood stage. | TIDES | none | ||
| LAUNCH SITE | Lowell Road Bridge; Concord, MA From the green in Concord Center, follow Lowell Road about 0.5 miles, launch site is on the left. |
LANDING SITES | none | ||
| ROUTE | Launch from Lowell Road and paddle southwest (upstream). At the confluence of the Assabet and Sudbury Rivers, turn right up the Assabet for more than one mile, then return to the fork and paddle up the Sudbury until Sudbury Road (the next bridge upstream from Route 2). | ||||
| A KAYAKER'S JOURNAL |
After nearly four inches of rain in the previous three days, the three rivers of Concord (Assabet, Sudbury, and Concord) were running high above flood stage, spilling brown water over their banks and onto fields and roads. I stood on the Lowell Road bridge, contemplating the strong Concord River current and debating how far upstream I would be able to paddle. Tired from 90 minutes of training on the Charles River for a canoe race, I was looking for something relaxing, like a two-hour early-season meander down a New England river. Ten minutes later, my boat was headed toward a sign that read "Old Cow Pasture; Concord Conservation Land." It was obvious that the lake on which I found myself was, a week ago, the cow pasture itself. Unfortunately, there wasn't much room to maneuver this far from the river, so I headed back to the channel and pointed my boat into the current. The last time I paddled this section of river, nearly two years ago, the water had been quite low and the Assabet River was not navigable. Oh, how things change! I quickly reached the fork where the Sudbury and Assabet Rivers meet to form the Concord, and saw that the strong current visible at the bridge was coming entirely from the Assabet -- the Sudbury showed almost no water movement at all. This time, I took the road less travelled and decided to fight the strong current from the north, making my way by hopping from eddy to eddy up the channel. The flooding was unreal -- canoes pulled high above the water's edge last fall were partially floating, and fenced-in backyards were accessible because the fences were submerged. I was able to dodge through the trees in water two or three feet deep, an almost surreal experience that brought me much delight. At several points this tactic also proved highly beneficial, as it helped avoid an almost impossibly unfavorable current. After 45 minutes of paddling upstream I ran into two paddlers headed in the opposite direction. They used paddles that looked almost like a two-bladed, wooden aircraft propeller, with a very short, square shaft and extremely long, narrow, unfeathered blades. I recognized one paddler from the Maine Island Trail Association conference in 2003 -- he had won the kayak-rolling competition by using this Greenland paddle to execute more than 20 rolls in one minute, a true spectacle to behold! Tired of fighting the current, I decided to turn and follow the two. They were quite happy to have added a companion, and we promptly switched paddles so I could try the Greenland-style blade. It took quite a bit of getting used to, especially since I have always used a feathered paddle, but by the time we had reached the confluence I could see the potential benefit of such a design (which includes the price tag: $20 for the block of wood and 8 hours to plane it into shape). We exchanged contact information and I headed up the Sudbury, leaving the strong current of the Assabet for perfectly calm water. Turning the first corner, I could see the wide floodplain full of water, with a row of houses overlooking the scene on the left bank. Barely visible across the lake was the next road bridge, an 1800s-era arched span that exhibited an abnormally small archway through which I needed to pass. Turning right, I paddled straight across the would-be field among the stands of trees and birdhouses to the bridge. It was quite clear that there wasn't much clearance under the bridge at this water level, and only was I entered the arch did I know for certain that I had plenty of room to spare -- three inches, if I pulled my paddle in and bent fully forward onto the deck. The second bridge, with three arches, was similar. I continued on past the commuter rail bridge and Route 2, rounding the corner that separates the bustle of Concord from the remoteness of the Great Meadows National Wildlife Refuge. It was amazing to see the gray, leafless trees shooting straight up from the muddy water -- the desolate scene reminded me of the flood of Isengaard in the Lord of the Rings movies. Suffering from a lack of lunch and a combined 3 hours on the water, I retraced my steps to the car. The Assabet River, while hardly wild, is rather undeveloped. There are significant houses when the river nears the road, but there are also stretches with no structures. It was a treat to be able to paddle this river which is unreachable during the months of low water. This stretch of the Sudbury River, unfortunately, runs through the heart of Concord and has extensive development along the shores. I was pleased to see signs limiting the speed on the river to 10 mph, and I hope those limits are enforced. If you seek solitude, paddle downstream from Lowell Road, or launch from Routes 117, 225, or 20. Regardless, the ability to paddle in places where boats rarely go made the trip wholly worthwhile. Daniel Smith April 4, 2004 |
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© 2004 Daniel E. Smith. Last updated 4/4/04