The water levels are low and tensions are running high on a mid-summer paddling trip along the Harpeth River in this audio postcard from WPLN’s Julia Ritchey.
It is hot. It is muggy. And I’m already kind of in a fight with the guy I’ve been seeing all summer when we get to the parking lot of Harpeth River State Park.
But it was poet Robert Frost who once wrote something to the effect of, “The only way out is through.” We came to paddle, and goshdarnit, I am not turning this boat around.
So we start paddling the 5-mile bend known as the Narrows.
It was 19th century industrialist Montgomery Bell who noticed the river nearly doubled back on itself, separated by a slender rock bluff.
Bell used enslaved people to bore a tunnel through the limestone to divert water for a mill to power his iron-ore mining operations. Water still flows through the nearly 300-foot tunnel that these men built.
I notice these little black-and-blue butterflies, collecting all the salt on the sand on the shore. A lot of Tennessee is in a drought right now. So there are some sections you have to steer a little carefully to keep from bottoming out.
We are not speaking to each other, and soon my paddling partner is out of sight, several yards ahead of me. I have the whole river to myself.
The Harpeth — she’s got curves, man. The fun thing about a curvy river is you can’t really see too far ahead, so there’s always a surprise around ever corner. Not to sound like Disney’s “Pocahontas” or anything, but you never know what’s just around the river bend.
I pass a core memory in the making — what looks like a first fishing trip for a father and his daughter. We greet each other as I float by.
Julia Ritchey WPLN NewsA view of the limestone bluff overlooking the Harpeth River
This is a popular destination in Cheatham County, and there are some unfortunate traces of human debris left behind: three submerged tires, a rusty ladder and beer cans.
There is a flip-flop floating upside down in this one opening of the Harpeth, which sounds kind of like a country music song. “I lost my flip-flop in the Harpeth River.” That could be a real banger, right?
I’m feeling like this might be the last time I go kayaking with my partner, and I want to slow everything down. I am barely paddling now, embracing this lazy river speed. There’s a sandbar I pull off on so I can cool down.
It takes almost three hours to finish the trip. When I pull up to the take-out spot, there’s another couple packing up for the day. The woman is quietly arguing with her beau over how best to secure their boat to the roof rack.
This would be my last outing with my paddling partner.
Love is like the Harpeth River, sometimes sweeping you gently along and other times bursting with emotion. You may end up right where you started, but you won’t feel the same.
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