An Urban Paddle

Lots of people, when they imagine taking a paddle in a canoe, think about floating down a picturesque river, or slicing through a bucolic cove, or streaming across a clear, fresh-water lake.

But this is New London, baby.

And on Labor Day we decided to take ourselves out for a canoe ride -- Urban Style.

We put in under the Big, Bad Gold Star Bridge.

Steel and grey and girders . . . and a bright sundress.

The view of downtown New London from down upon the Thames River is riveting.

We picked out all the outdoor decks we've been to for beers and wine and coffee and parties. Bank Street is chock-full of awesome outdoor decks . . .

. . . and public piers . . .

. . . and America's own Tall Ship, The Barque Eagle, home-ported right here in good ol' New London.

We also paddled by the U.S. Naval Ship Zeus (T-ARC 7), but at that point we were too busy trying to dodge ferries and deal with the chop and not, you know, get sucked into the Zeus' portals or intake valves, or propellers -- does the Zeus have propellers? --  to take the time to take a photo.

The Day ran a photo of our girl on Wednesday, though:

The USS Zeus? Oh, she's big.

We passed through the open train bridge, into Shaw's Cove . . .

and found ourselves the best, most awesomely non-bucolic parking spot at Captain Scott's . . .

. . . where we enjoyed hours of music and beer and delicious seafood.

When we told the peeps we'd canoed there -- and we told everyone, believe you me -- they asked, "You came on a canoe? Cool! Do you kayak?" To which we replied, "Can you bring a cooler of beer on a kayak*?!"

(*No. No you cannot.)

The sun was setting, the clouds were gathering, and it was time for us to hit the highw--, er, the river.

So to our parking spot we headed.

Um, yeah. That's not our boat.

Off we headed, into the late afternoon . . .

. . . but not before waving to the band . . .

Hi Billy!

Hi Robin!!

Urban, baby.

I love the front, um, the prow, because the aft is like being on the butt-side of a bicycle-built-for-two.

The lighting was awesome . . .

. . . and the water had turned to glass . . .

*Sigh*.

Hair by Jennie

. . . and really. It was time to move out of Shaw's Cove.

Ooh, a red boat. Pretty!

See? See, we can be bucolic.

Our pointy friend the Mary Ellen about to set sail? Not a problem. Paddled right around her . . .

. . . really really quickly.

And then, like a beacon from afar . . .

. . . the mighty Gold Star Bridge.

. . . in all its steel-girdered-glory.

In all its majestic wing-span.

In all its all-encompassing embrace.

The Urban Paddle is a good paddle . . .

. . . sometimes a little steel can be weirdly good for the soul . . .

. . . especially from down below, on the River.