Savoring Nature and History Along the C&O Canal
 Photo of Peter Vankevich by Rich Greenfield |
Beginning in late February for the last 19 years, I hike on the C&O Canal. This is part of a training program for the annual 100 Km One Day Hike from Washington, DC to Harper's Ferry. Setting aside the questionable quest of hiking 62 miles in one day (with its 3:00 AM start), I find peace in these 20-plus mile Saturdays. Each week brings new signs of spring along the Potomac. I have found a Great Blue Heron rookery with birds on their nests in March and migrating Double-crested Cormorants flying upstream or perching on stones and trees in the river. Each week, new birds appear. Early on, it's Eastern Phoebes, and then the warblers arrive. In order from early March, I see Yellow-rumped Warblers, then loudly singing Louisiana Waterthrushes, Northern Parulas, Palm, Common Yellowthroats and Yellow-throated Warblers. Then there are the wildflowers, such as wonderful Virginia Bluebells and Dutchman's Breeches.
The C&O Canal never was successful in its purpose of commercial transport, due in part to its inability to accommodate technological innovation. On July 4, 1828, President John Q. Adams officiated at the ceremonial ground-breaking for the Canal. With far less fanfare, on the same day, the B&O Railroad began operations. The railroad arrived in Cumberland, MD eight years earlier than the Canal. Steamboats revolutionized travel on the water, but not on the Canal, because they could not travel more than 5 miles per hour due to possible damage to the Canal by a boat's wake. Tractors were introduced in the early part of the 20th century to pull boats, but tractors proved to be no faster than mules.
Nature also has played its role in keeping the Canal from becoming an economic success story. Freshets, or floods, caused frequent damage and worsened throughout the nineteenth century, perhaps due to extensive deforestation along the river and its tributaries. The C&O Canal closed in 1924. For almost 50 years, its fate hung in the balance. A rail bed and a parkway were seriously considered to replace the towpath. Instead, through the efforts of many people, this pathway from DC to the west was saved as a wonderful piece of our history.
As I walk along the towpath, I feel a curious sense of nature taking back what was wrought by man and a sense of solidarity with the canallers as they trekked with their two-mule teams up and down the river. I see the turtles that no longer have to worry about becoming part of a soup; perhaps after 50 years, they move just a tad more slowly at possible signs of danger. The Canal is so long, 184.5 miles, that it is not hard to find solitude and listen to the sounds of nature somewhere along its length. The sounds of the rushing of the river and train whistles and the smells of mud and of trees and wildflowers in bloom are now part of me.
