Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, May 7, 1995 TAG: 9505090035
SECTION: DISCOVER NRV PAGE: DNRV-2 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: STEPHEN FOSTER STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: ON THE NEW RIVER LENGTH: Medium
Get away from the sound of the cars and trucks running overhead, float away from the sound of their engines - a background buzz that stays with you and your canoe much longer than the sight of the bridge does.
It doesn't take long to get away from the road: You are greeted by the pastoral sights of cattle grazing on the left, then the small crags jutting out like teeth on the ridges above the river. But the three- to four-hour ride from Fairlawn to Whitethorne isn't the kind of canoe trip that will give you the removed-from-the-world kind of perspective that outdoorsy types cherish.
While treks further down the world's second-oldest river reveal the multicolored cliffs and wooded shores that seem to detach the canoeist from everything else, this eight-mile stretch demands that one remember where one is.
Specifically, smack dab in the middle of the Radford Army Ammunition Plant.
Years ago, the plant went to court trying to uphold its right to inspect the boats of all paddlers who made their way down the horseshoe bend of the New that bisects the arsenal's 6,900 acres. The plant lost its case, but the guard towers and signs on either end of the arsenal's eastern-shore land serve as stern reminders of whose land the river runs through.
As do the fences that run along each shore, the "military reservation" signs placed at intervals, the structures that make up the facility itself and the bridges that connect the two sides of the 50-year-old arsenal.
Usually the most striking wildlife sight to see is the hundreds-fold flocks of black vultures roosting on the eastern shore of arsenal land. The sight of these leathery-headed, black-feathered carrion-eating birds preening and resting together is repulsive and fascinating.
(But when photographer Gene Dalton and I took a day to canoe this stretch, most of the birds were curiously absent.)
You should see deer, too, as you make your way leisurely down this mostly easygoing stretch of water. They number in the hundreds and can be seen moseying about or grazing in small groups by the shoreline.
Like elsewhere on the river, blue herons, ducks, Canada geese, muskrats and an occasional beaver round out wildlife scouting efforts.
The roughest part of the route? The Arsenal Rapids, a short stretch of what various publications classify as Class II-III (on a scale of I-VI) rapids about two miles from Peppers Ferry. You'll be doing better than we did if you avoid taking on water here - which in early spring is much, much colder than the water of summer's tubing and swimming fun.
Located just downstream of a set of riffles that masks the sound of this impending obstacle, the left side of the rapids sports a 2- to 3-foot drop-off, and more than one paddler has found himself in trouble if not properly prepared for the run. The right side is easier, but, as with all unknown rapids, hit the shore upstream and scout it before you run it.
Once past these rapids, the trip takes on a decidedly leisurely approach. If you're lucky, as we were, the wind will be mostly at your back and the water will be flowing fairly quickly because of Appalachian Power Co.'s release of water from the Claytor Lake Dam upstream.
If you're unlucky, though, the water will be moving at a snail's pace and headwinds will force you to put some umph! into your paddling.
The riverbanks still reveal the effects of January flooding, with brown, matted-hair-like patches of dried algae stuck to the trees and bushes. There are all too many pieces of trash - buckets, beer cans, papers and other refuse - lying about, too.
Still, the sight of a heron, with its spindly legs, craning neck and powerful wings is enough to please. Beavers have staked their claim by gnawing out chunks of trees on either side. Periodically, your approach will startle ducks into torpedo-run takeoffs.
To the left, the arsenal property continues, while on bluffs above and to the right, a few houses along McCoy Road overlook the river. While there's less sense of being alone than there could be, looking up out of the river valley gives one a more realistic sense of one's self in the world - read: small - than driving along McCoy or Prices Fork roads and looking down upon the river.
About a half-mile up from the Whitethorne public boat landing are three islands, their foliage awash in that same algae, the grass bent downstream where rushing water has forced it. A few bones, clam shells, deer tracks and some trash are scattered about. Off to the right of the largest island, geese swim and a muskrat dives under some brush on the other side.
Pass this last bit of scenery, and the view of the river widens. It must be beautiful at sunset. And, though the trip isn't the most visually stunning or whitewater-thrilling of the many sections of the New River, it is a better place to be on a warm spring day than staying cooped up in the house or office.
by CNB