By Nicole Eastman, Yadkin Riverkeeper and Ward Swann, Yadkin River State Trail Coordinator
Ward Swann, Yadkin River State Trail Coordinator
A surprise rain hit last night. Everything that we were so glad to have dried by the afternoon sun is now damp, again. Sitting under the roar of the rain hitting the tin roof of the shelter wasn’t bad. Walking back to your tent when the rain lets up to find a moat surrounding your temporary little castle is a little more complicated feeling.
The morning snuck up the river with expressive clouds and a river still charging mightly. A superb breakfast of pancakes and eggs got us excited to be on our way. This morning, our campsite host, Christine, joined us to paddle from Easy Bend Farms to Donnaha. We picked up another paddler, Matt Perry, along the way and enjoyed bouncing down through the section of river called “Shoals”
We got a glimpse of Pilot Mtn yesterday. Today we will be as close to it as we will get as the river makes the turn to the south. Just after passing under the powerlines we’ll get one more look at Pilot Mountain over our shoulders from the river as we head south. Much history resides in this bend of the Yadkin River.
It’s interesting to see that after international conflict, countries have prioritized the major source of transport of the day. Just like when Dwight Eisenhower came back from World War II after seeing the speed by which the German Autobahn moved supplies to where they were needed, he then initiated the Interstate system of travel. Before that, the War of 1812 highlighted the river infrastructure as the major source of transportation. State Governments emphasized waterways for commercial improvement. North Carolina sought to capitalize on the Yadkin River. Why not? It is part of the second biggest basin on the east coast. The portion that is the Pee Dee has long been a source of transportation of goods. North Carolina just had to figure out how to capitalize on the Yadkin portion to transport goods to the Pee Dee. A survey determined that The Shoals section near Pilot Mountain was the largest barrier on the river to transporting goods from “Wilkesborough to the South Carolina State Line.”(Bean Shoals Canal highway marker) At that time, there were no dams on the river and no trains. A project was started to build locks and dams to bypass the shallow rocky section. And by 1825 there was no more money for the project. When the work was called to stop, 2 out of the 3 miles of rather impressive wall was built in order to separate the natural flow of the river from the canal to float the barges. It is thought that the Railroad used or buried much of it when it came through around 1890, but you can see the wall on the Surry County Side of the river while paddling and when you hike the trails to the water in Pilot Mtn State Park.
It’s not the only time that we’ll see the testament of workers that stand the test of time and river along this trip. In fact, some works of stone are a little less obvious and much older. While the entrepreneurs of a young nation saw the Shoal Section of the Yadkin River as the prime obstacle to moving goods up and down the river, Native Americans of the Saura tribe saw opportunities. Rights would describe these structures as;
“Several rapids now caused us to row carefully. Years ago the people who lived along the river, possibly the Indians of long ago may have been the originators, piled two long lines of large rocks V shaped with the point of the V down stream. These were fish falls(weirs), and the point of the V was a place designed to ensnare the fish in the runs down stream. We encountered a dozen of the falls in the course of our voyage. It may have made good fishing, but it was a setback for the Agathos(the name of their boat), which more than once met the fate of the fish and was held on the ridge of the rocks until we could push off. We learned, however, to pick the deepest and most dangerous looking part of the fall, and thereafter usually rode safely and quickly through, enjoying the thrill of riding on waves that sometimes lashed into the boat.”
And later on he writes;
“These falls, we were certain, had been originated by the Indians, as Indian village sites usually occur near the location of these traps. Further proof I have since found in the description given by Loskiel, the Moravian mission historian of Indian life, who has pictured these arrangements identically as they appear and tells how the Indian made great catches by the falls.”
-A Voyage Down the Yadkin-Great Pee Dee River, Douglas Rights
Loskiel further describes the use as
“... they run a dam of stones across the stream, where its depth will admit it, not in a straight line, but in two parts, verging towards each other in an angle. An opening is | left in the middle for the water to run off. At this opening they place a large box, the bottom of which is full of holes; they then make a rope of the twigs of the wild vine, to which boughs about six feet in length are fastened. A party is detached with this rope, who stretch it across the current, and move gently down, supporting it in the middle by wooden forks. Thus they frighten the fish into the opening left in the middle of the dam, where a number of Indians are placed on each side, who, standing upon the two legs of the angle, drive the fish with poles, and a hideous noise, through the opening into the box.”
The history of the Moravian mission among the Indians of North America from its commencement to the present time, with a preliminary account of the Indians
by Loskiel, George Henry, 1740-1814
The fish would then be gathered and processed on a nearby bank. This was not just a one or two fish for a family dinner operation. This was an industry with assigned roles that would feed a community and could produce trade. We’ve already paddled over several of these weirs on the Long Paddle, but this section is better known for being able to “encounter” them. There is a notable archeological site on the Yadkin County side of the river near here. It was a sizable community. The number of weirs may represent the increased need to support the community. Or the community grew to take advantage of the rocky shoals that limit and guide the flow of the river naturally.
The fish weirs are now more subtle. If the river gauge is above 3 feet, you may not even notice them. The gauge is around 5 feet as we paddle through. Paddlers often pass through them without understanding that they’ve encountered a structure that was likely somewhere between 300 and 3,000 years old. Evidence of indigenous people has been dated to 10,000 BC in the Yadkin Valley. There is no way to date construction of a fish weir unless some organic matter is discovered under a rock. Occasionally dating can be inferred by the discovery of a near settlement.
As the water braids between the islands of Shoals, islands big enough to support settler farms, the river feels old. The neighbor to the north, Pilot Mtn, was formed deep underground through intense heat and pressure. We know that through the quartzite that comprises its structure. Millennia of erosion has exposed the mountains of the Sauratown Mtn range. While it’s interesting to think that Pilot Mtn may have been the structure that altered the course of the river and turned it south. Continuing east would reflect more closely the paths of the rivers to the north like the Dan/Roanoke and James. It is occasionally hinted that all of these rivers once flowed out the mouth of Chesapeake Bay.
It is theorized the Blue Ridge Scarp may have pushed the Blue Ridge Mountains up a little and caused the rivers of Yadkin and Catawba to tilt South like a drip of wet paint on a plate that’s been tipped. I’ve tried to confirm these thoughts from geologists, but people who deal with rocks are not known for speculation. Nor will they hazard a guess about how old the Yadkin River is. Many people seem to think that the Yadkin sprung into existence like a needed ditch when the settlers started farming the valley. Instead, I like to think that the river is ancient, that it predates the first human. The source of the Yadkin is a spring that sits on the opposite side of the mountain from the source of the middle fork of the New River. If one side of the mountain creates the New River between 10 and 360 million years ago, then the other side of the same mountain should create the Yadkin about the same time. These are all questions for the rounded rocks and miles of sediment that we now pass and extend beyond the fall line and define the East Coast. The Virginia Creeper vines that hang from the trees and thick brush that lines the river seem as unchanged as it would have been 500 years ago or 50,000.
It’s a thought process that the river frequently invites, but for now I have to get to the new campsite, Aquilla, at Mile Marker 95. It’s so new that it looks too small even for our little party of now 5. We decided to see what camping at the dam would look like.
The Swann water intake dam is an impressive structure that can process up to 25 million gallons of water a day. It was opened in 2004. If you’ve picked up that my last name is the same as the person for whom the plant was named, I’m proud to say that he’s my father.
The portage around the dam has well fashioned, but steep, steps on both sides of the dam and a nice walk between the steps. The area around the portage is approved for camping. The waters below the dam are known for fishing. Negotiating the dam with fully loaded boats required a bit of planning and a lot of cooperation. Many people get intimidated by the amount of concrete, the dramatic splash and roar of the water. That energy at the base is good.
The splashyness of this dam is the result of a safety measure. Dams can create hazards called hydraulics: where water circulates in a manner that can keep a swimmer in place and hold them under for significant times. Hydraulics occur naturally in all moving water. They become especially dangerous when they are in a straight line that crosses the river from bank to bank. Dams that create a hydraulic that crosses the river is called a “low head dam,” or a “drowning machine.” One dam on the Dan River illustrated this a few years ago when a family put in upstream one evening to innertube a nice little drop and get out downstream. 5 of the 9 family members perished in the unassuming hydraulic at the base of that drop.
The Dam at Swann intake is different. It has structures at the bottom that interrupt the formation of that kind of keeper hydraulic. Don’t get me wrong, those same structures would cause anyone who goes over the dam to have a really bad day, but the net result is that they are much much more likely to be able to complain about it later. (Please, always walk around dams) The byproduct is that the structures create a lot of splash that can seem intimidating to someone who was looking for a quiet day on the water, but it’s safer with it. Where the water above the dam is slower and more easily managed, the water below is fast and “in your face noisy.” You leave it each time fully aware of its power.
And leave it we did. It was still early and we didn’t want to wait around in the sun just to get soaked by another thunderstorm. So we changed our plans, again. We called our rides to pick us up at Huntsville access instead of paddling to Tanglewood the next day. It would mean that we would miss about 11 miles of the river, 11 miles we had paddled for a historic paddle less than a month ago, but it would give us an extra day before we met several new people for the trip from Tanglewood to Highway 64.
Paddling up to the Shallowford road bridge was a bit sad though. We had been together seven days and 95 miles. It had rained at some point during all but one of them. The river had gone from something that one of our boats could stretch across from side to side, to five or six boats across. And through this all, the group kept a positive attitude. It’s not that we didn’t complain about the rain, sore muscles, muddy accesses, and loud cars that crossed the bridges we slept near. (The horn from the morning train in Elkin made my sleeping soul leave my body.) But those inconveniences didn’t fester into anything greater than something temporary or a funny story. As sad as I was for the early respite from our journey, the dark skies and thunder that was approaching as I threw the last bundle into the truck made me glad to not have to wait out another thunderstorm in my tent… at least not that night.
Nicole Eastman, Yadkin Riverkeeper
We woke up to sunshine and a peaceful view of the Yadkin from Easy Bend Farm’s bank. As we busied ourselves with packing our wet tents into our kayaks, Christine made us an amazing pancake and egg breakfast with their honey and blackberry jam! What a sweet and welcomed surprise and break from our typical oatmeal and dehydrated meals!
Christine and her pup, Ohana joined us on her paddle board and we thanked Ken for the great stay at their riverside Hipcamp. We started floating toward one of my favorite sections of river in Pilot Mountain State Park. We quickly approached the green islands and shoals that make this stretch so unique and iconic now and in history. Once we got to the shoals access, we picked up Matt Perry, who lives downstream from the access and park. I got to talk to him about his adventures pulling out tires and cleaning up the slice of the river that is his home. I always love to hear how different people across our large watershed play their part as a steward of the Yadkin. I like to think of our cumulative impact.
We maneuvered away around the rocky shoals which make for a more interesting and engaging paddle, part of the reason I love this section. The sun’s reflection hid some of the rocks sitting just below the surface which caused me to bump a few, but with the river up it was an easy paddle around the shimmering riffles.
We made our way around a bend which opened up a view of Pilot Mountain again, now behind us. It loomed large over the river, but whenever I try to take pictures, the knob looks like a speck in the distance. That’s why it’s great to experience it for yourself in person! We paddled towards an eddy and used the stillness to admire Pilot and snap our pictures. Then, we were on our way towards the Little Yadkin River.
We paddled up the Little Yadkin a couple hundred yards to visit the rock arch and train trestle that tower over the tributary. Then, we made our way towards Donnaha where we stopped for lunch and said goodbye to some of our friends. We were on our way towards Aquilla Islands, the newly acquired islands by the Piedmont Land Conservancy in the middle of the Yadkin. We beached on a nice rock bar and scouted out a future campsite. The stiltgrass was tall and the site needed some love, but you can see the potential for an awesome primitive site to enjoy the wilderness of the Yadkin River. It was another hot and sunny day and it was only 2pm, so we decided to keep on paddling towards the Swann dam, named after Ward’s father.
A future campsite on Aquilla Islands.
It feels a little nerve racking at first to approach a low-head dam, but I quickly found the water moves slowly and you have plenty of time and space to pull your kayak up along the portage steps. We worked together to get everyone out of the water and our kayaks up the stairs. It was a loud and hot site with several lampposts lining the walkway. So once again, we decided to keep moving towards Huntsville aka the Shallow Ford access. After another long but fulfilling day on the Yadkin, we made it to Huntsville where our loved ones were waiting for us to take us home for a quick rest before paddling more this weekend.