Canoeing the Cahaba
Arriving at our launching spot on the Cahaba River in central Alabama, a prothonotary warbler at water’s edge issued its buzzy, ascending song, sometimes likened to “sweet, sweet, sweet.”
Sweet, it was.
Before us the Cahaba flowed swiftly, forcefully over a rocky shoal, hundreds of Cahaba lilies improbably rising from the water, their sturdy stems bent by the flow, their three-inch diameter blooms brilliant in late-morning light.
After a week of off and on showers and thunderstorms the river ran higher and muddier than we preferred as we slid our canoes into the current.
No complaints. We were there to experience one of Alabama’s premier streams during the comparatively short window - from Mothers Day to Fathers Day - that the lilies bloom.
The Cahaba lily, also known as the shoals spider-lily, is a vulnerable species found today in only about 50 populations in Alabama, Georgia, South Carolina and North Carolina. One of the largest was right in front of us.
My son, Scott, and I were fortunate enough to be paddling with David Butler, staff attorney and riverkeeper with the Cahaba Riverkeeper organization, a private group that keeps close tabs on the river, constantly monitoring water quality and environmental threats, sounding the alarm when it finds problems.
The Cahaba is like so many other eastern rivers that flow at least partly through or by cities. It has issues. Runoff carrying sediments and contaminants, elevated bacteria levels at times, illegal polluting discharges, stream bank erosion, and, especially, burgeoning development in the Birmingham area that only increases runoff pollution. But like other rivers, the days of unfettered industrial and municipal pollution are long past. On its best days it is still a pleasure to paddle, quite pleasing to the eye.
In the five-mile stretch we did, much of it within the Cahaba River National Wildlife Refuge near West Blockton, the banks were almost entirely forested, the river flowing free as it does for 140 of its 194 miles, making it the longest free-flowing stretch of river in Alabama.
A few minutes after we launched, an eagle flew upriver not 40 feet above us. A pair of wood ducks hugged the shoreline. Cliff swallows were abundant and nesting under the Pratt’s Ferry Bridge where we finished.
The Cahaba is biologically loaded, one of the most biodiverse waterways in the U. S., home to 139 rare or imperiled species, including fish, mussels, and snails. E. O. Wilson, one of the greatest and most-famous biologists of the past 100 years, was born in Birmingham, grew up in southern Alabama and the Florida panhandle, and did his undergraduate work at the University of Alabama. He marveled at the diversity of life in the region all his life, even as he traveled the world as a celebrated Harvard University scholar.
Visiting my son, who lives upriver near a major tributary of the Cahaba, Shades Creek, and being longtime river guys, it was a river we simply had to explore. You don’t see a colony of big, rugged lilies growing wild in rapids back in Connecticut, where I live.
Pushing off from the launch site, crossing the river, our first moments in the shoal were less than graceful. After a sudden drop, we had the canoe momentarily sideways to the current. But we quickly got things together despite the power of the river and nestled among the lilies, just long enough to snap a few photos with my phone. I had a professional camera along in a dry bag, but there was no time to get that out. The river was high. Live with it. We continued on.
The Cahaba is a tributary of the Alabama River, which merges with the Mobile River before entering the Gulf of Mexico. According to the river scientists who wrote the definitive “Rivers of North America,” a status report on every river of any size, “Among the rivers in the Mobile River system, protection of the Cahaba River is a very high priority” because so much of it is unchoked by dams and because it is so biologically rich.
We had Butler paddling beside us to fill us in on the details; the river history, the plants, creatures, the threats - the beauty. What is that striking shrub with the cone-like white blossoms?
“Oak leaf hydrangea,” he replied without a second’s hesitation. Native to the southeast, it punctuated the forest understory at river’s edge. We just missed the mountain laurel blossoms, he added.
River oak, white oak, water oak, American sycamore, river birch, tulip poplar and elm were among the tree species along the thickly forested banks.
The most abundant pine was the loblolly, along with some longleaf pine. Butler explained there is an effort to establish more longleaf pine habitat because of its importance to several endangered species, including the red-cockaded woodpecker.
Rounding a bend, we spotted our take-out area. With high water, we had ripped along at a sprightly pace, but not so fast we didn’t get a sense of the Cahaba. Still, another paddle next May might just reward us with an even deeper understanding of its charms.
David Butler, the Cahaba Riverkeeper, in the background, as we paddled through a large and healthy colony of Cahaba lilies off the Cahaba River National Wildlife Refuge in central Alabama. Click to enlarge.
A Cahaba lily, or shoals spider-lily, found only in Alabama, Georgia, South Carolina and North Carolina, is an especially showy aquatic wildflower that prefers fast-moving water in rocky shoals. Not technically endangered, it is considered a vulnerable species and is now known to exist in but 50 or so locations. Click to enlarge.
Scott and I paddling a quiet stretch of the Cahaba.We’ve spent hundreds of hours canoeing, rafting and kayaking rivers in the U. S. With Scott now living in Mountain Brook, AL, the Cahaba was a must-do. Click to enlarge.
Cahaba lilies on the Cahaba River at lower flow with clear water. Photo courtesy of Cahaba Riverkeeper. Click to enlarge.
David Butler, staff attorney and Riverkeeper with the private organization Cahaba Riverkeeper, spends countless hours on the river, taking water samples, watching for environmental threats and abuses to a river he cares deeply about. Click to enlarge.