[Journal entry for October 17, 2015; Hudson River at Alpine NJ]. I launched Hraun, my old and stable plastic kayak from the little beach at the north end of Alpine Boat Basin at about 8AM. This was a photography trip; I brought my Cannon 7D camera in a dry bag. The day was clear and the sun was still fairly low in the eastern sky. The air was cold, with temperatures in the high forties Fahrenheit, though I expected temperature to rise over the course of the morning. The water was still fairly warm – much warmer than the air.

The vegetation along the Hudson Palisades Cliffs is beginning to turn its fall colors. A minority of trees is bright orange or red, but the rest are still green, making interesting and beautiful patterns against the dark brown of the cliffs.

I made many brief stops to take photographs. My procedure was to orient the boat, put my paddle on my lap, take the camera from the dry bag at my feet, and carefully squeeze off a round of ten to twenty images. I always stowed the camera before resuming paddling.

Three fast ferries operated by Seastreak passed me, going north. They were throwing up a huge tail of spray and I worried that their wake would be difficult to handle. Actually, though, it was very moderate. I guess the spray dissipates the energy. A fourth ferry that lacked the tail of spray came by towards the end of the paddle. Its wake was considerably larger, though still easy for me to manage.

I saw several ospreys during the course of the day. One was fishing more or less over my position as I headed north, so I was able to see its striking black and white under-plumage very vividly. Later, on the return trip, I saw two ospreys fighting over – or playing with – a fish. They flew tight circles around one another and called out to one another in shrill voices, until at last the fish fell into the river. One whooped down to grab it, making a splash, but I could not tell whether it succeeded.

I sighted a Great Blue Heron by the phragmites marsh at the ruins of the old dock just south of State Line Lookout. It took to the air as a passed and I was able to see its strong wings flexing into arches during its takeoff. The dock is a skeleton of hundreds of rotting pilings, arranged in rows, most standing only a few feet above the water. They are a hazard to any large boat, but I had no problem threading my kayak between them.

The scar of the rockfall at State Line Lookout is still plainly visible. I visited it just a few days after it occurred, back in May 2012. The parted rock left a beige stripe on the cliff face and the debris knocked out a triangular chunk of the woods at the bottom of the cliff. The stripe is still visible, but the debris apron is about half vegetated with tall bushes as less distinct than it once was.

I kayaked as far as Peanup Leap Falls in the Lamont Preserve (though the foliage was too dense for me to actually see the falls). I then turned about and headed back south. The current was against me, so may progress was pretty slow. But I persevered and reached the little beach without mishap and with the camera still dry and functional.

About three hours.