by Joyce Deaton
We ease the 19-foot Boston Whaler center console off its trailer at the public launch at Buster Boyd Bridge, ready to start a ramble northward. Our float plan is to cover this less-traveled stretch of Lake Wylie, which offers glimpses of both old and new: the lake of million-dollar homes and giant performance boats, and what locals used to call simply “the river,” where many people enjoyed the quiet water from humble weekend cabins.
Heading north past Lake Wylie Marina on the left, we see large recent-vintage lakefront homes on manicured lots, with well-built shorelines, elaborate docks and boat houses. A little further north, large condos with boat slips are home to dozens of lake dwellers who’ve chosen to combine a maintenance-free lifestyle with their love of boating. The new Lake Wylie.
On this weekday morning, the lake’s waters are smooth as silk. No one in sight. Only our boat disturbs the glassy surface. We see a small bridge where Pole Branch Road crosses Catawba Creek, then catch a glimpse of what we know is the Daniel Stowe Botanical Gardens waterfront, though it’s left wonderfully undisturbed.
We veer left into the South Fork of the Catawba and head northwest a ways, stopping at Harbortowne Marina, where Joel and Casey Summit keep watch over 150 slips. A small round building sits over the water, offering ice, snacks, showers and a ship’s store. Harbortowne also provides fuel, pumpout and repair services, along with a boat ramp. It’s quiet on this midweek morning just after Labor Day.
Motoring slowly back to the main channel, we head north again, gliding past tiny circles in the quiet waters where insects light. Now and then a fish leaps up for one of the tasty bugs, marked only by a swooshing sound and a larger circle rippling toward the shores. A hawk glides overhead, hoping to spot the jumping fish faster than we do. On the Mecklenburg shore, a blue heron does some quiet fishing of his own.
North of the South Fork, the waters are even more peaceful. We rarely see a boat – only an occasional fisherman. Coming up on the left, the red-and-white stacks of Duke Energy’s Allen steam plant send up billowy clouds of white smoke. Atop a mountain of coal, a bright yellow crane feeds fuel to the humming plant.
Meandering up Paw Creek to the right, we see both the new and the old Lake Wylie. Substantial new houses blend with modest ranch homes built 20 or 30 years ago. At the water’s edge in front of a fairly new house sits a small screen building – maybe 10 x 15 feet – painted brown and grown up in ivy. Once, no doubt, it was a breezy retreat for folks who lived in a rustic river cabin just up the hill.
We turn around and head back to the main channel. Turning north, we suddenly come on shallow water. Four white markers on our right mark what must be Danger Island, the spot a local boater told us about back at the launch. We glide slowly past, checking the depth finder. Only 2.5 feet. On the small island, huge towers carry high-tension electric wires. Atop one, completely undisturbed, an osprey rests on its nest.
Back in deep water, we come to the Norfolk Southern railway bridge that crosses the Catawba just south of U.S. 74. The acrid smell of creosote emanates from the ties above, and, invisible from the road, piers of what appear to be two earlier bridges sit near the supports of the current bridge. One set is smooth concrete, and the other, sitting only 10 feet or so above the water, is beautifully crafted of separate stones. A later phone call to Norfolk Southern reveals the “new” bridge was built in 1917. Those older piers must have been there since the 1800s.
Just north of the public access at Belmont, we pass under the U.S. 74 highway bridge, a simple structure with concrete railings of linked arches, like many older highway bridges in North Carolina. Above, passing cars cross the old highway’s sections with a rhythmic thump-thump-thump. Passing under the I-85 bridge, instead of this rhythmic rumble, the speeding traffic above creates a constant whirring sound.
A little further on the Gaston side of the river, the new Tailrace Marina is under construction, its tidy docks with blue covers gracing the shores. Here, paddlers already can rent canoes and kayaks from N.C. Flatwater Outfitters.
Just across the main channel and around Sadler Island lie the docks of the U.S. National Whitewater Center, where kayaks are also available for rent. Today, only a few kayakers are in the water. We cut our engine to give them berth, and they wave, steadily working their way southward.
Later by phone, Terry Everhart warns that boaters in this area need to take special care. Everhart, a Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police officer, patrols Lake Wylie and works as a first responder for on-water emergencies. “On weekends, there can be 50 or 60 inexperienced kayakers in the water near the whitewater center docks, and as you come up the channel from the south, there’s a blind curve,” he says. “Both power boaters and kayakers need to use extreme caution here so they don’t surprise each other.”
North of the whitewater center, near the U.S. 27 bridge at Mt. Holly, lies another fascinating, and potentially treacherous, area. During a flood in the 1920s, railway officials decided to park train cars on the railroad bridge that stood there, thinking the cars would make the bridge heavier and more resistant to floodwaters. It didn’t work, though, and the bridge went down, taking the cars with it. The tumbled cars are still below, and during drought conditions they make the passage extremely shallow. “The depth changes quickly from, say, 8 feet to 6 inches,” says Everhart.
Turning back, we motor slowly southward at a steady pace. Slowing down for the shallows around Danger Island, we note the Sand Bar, a popular weekend gathering place. On our trip northward it was quiet, but now a couple of families have left their pontoon boats to play in its shallow waters.
Further south on our left, we spot Long Cove Marina and Yacht Club – a comfortable-looking hilltop with 88 slips and 25 sites for camper trailers. It’s a gentle throwback to the old Lake Wylie when Charlotteans and others went to “the river” for weekends. Partner and general manager Diana Grubenhoff later tells us a little of its history. Before her family bought Long Cove in 1984, it was the corporate retreat for American Bank and Trust, one of the predecessors of Bank of America. Long Cove’s members rent campsites and boat slips by the year and also enjoy a natural beach and a 42 x 84-foot swimming pool. The place is hopping in summer. “We have 200 families who come for the swimming pool, and on July 4 there are more than 1,000 people here,” says Grubenhoff. “A lot of people have been members here for years – long before I came.” It’s a close-knit community. Members have created their own web site and often gather for dinner at local restaurants during the off-season.
Heading south, we pick up speed as the Buster Boyd Bridge comes into view. The sun glints off the copper roof valleys of a lakefront mansion to our left. Though a world apart in flavor, the new lake Wylie has its beauties, too.
Big, fluffy clouds dance above us, reflected in the smooth waters ahead. The wind in our faces, the spray bouncing off the stern are bracing. Nearing the land, we’ve enjoyed our ramble in the quiet northern waters that characterize what Terry Everhart likes most about Lake Wylie. “It’s a unique little place,” he says. “You can see eagles and ospreys. Everything is laid back, and the people are nicer than on many of the other lakes. Until the past few years, you still had river cabins on the shores. People call it the Redneck Riviera, and I consider that a compliment.”