Chev Dixon on the Sojourner Truth Trail, for Scenic Hudson · Shaupeneak Ridge, Esopus, New York · 2023 · 2:27
From the film · Board, road, river
0:25
From the film · All by human powered movement
0:30
From the film · The road north
0:37
From the film · The Widow Maker
0:43
From the film · Back on the Hudson
0:39
Chev Dixon is an endurance athlete and a close friend, and the Hudson Valley Challenge is the project we keep coming back to: long journeys through the valley under his own power, by board, bike, boat and foot.
From above, one teal kayak crosses open water below the Bear Mountain Bridge, the ridges green on both banks.
The film at the top is Return to Source, one of my favorites: Chev on the Sojourner Truth Trail at Shaupeneak Ridge, the ridge she walked over to her freedom. The full Hudson Valley Challenge film is still to come. Below Return to Source are a few moments from it, then the photographs.
Chev grins from the cockpit with the paddle across his knees and the bridge strung high behind him.Straw hat, red life vest, both hands on the paddle shaft. Chev sits easy in the kayak on bright blue water.
Chev holds up his phone beside a row of trailered jet skis, a companion leaning in to look.The sun drops behind the ridge and a single paddler rides the gold streak it leaves across the river.
Grey sky, grey chop. A small flotilla of kayaks spreads out across the Hudson under low cloud.
One kayak alone on a wide stretch of river, the wooded cliffs of the far shore running flat to the horizon.Four boats in loose formation, the lead paddler in red pulling ahead into the wind.
Kayaks slide past a brick power station and its tall smokestack, the city starting to crowd the shoreline.
A paddler in an orange jacket leads the pack, the rest of the group strung out in yellow and red behind.The support boat keeps pace a few lengths off, its pilot watching the paddlers ahead through the haze.
Two kayaks in brown spring water with the George Washington Bridge towering over the Manhattan shore.
Three boats line up across the river, the bridge tower rising out of the trees on the Jersey side.Two small figures paddle toward the long span of the bridge, the skyline a pale smudge beyond it.
Looking straight up at the steel underside of the bridge deck as the paddlers pass beneath it.
A paddler digs in hard in a white kayak, the bridge and a lone tower standing over his shoulder.A single kayak skims past a green bluff crowned with apartment towers on the Manhattan side.
Clouds break open over the river and the Midtown skyline lines up on the horizon ahead of two boats.
Closer now: paddles up, the orange jacket in front, the whole city stacked along the far bank.On the support boat, a phone comes out and a wide smile, the George Washington Bridge still in view behind.
Four paddlers in life vests on a driftwood beach, Chev in the yellow cap at the center of the line.
A crowd of every age presses in around Chev, fists up and faces lit with the moment.Families line the floating dock for a group photo, kids up front, the far shore wooded behind them.
The whole group again in front of the paddling and rowing club, boats pulled up on the dock beside them.
Chev stands on the end of the dock with his gear at his feet, looking out over flat grey water.Chev walks the weathered dock in his club shirt, the river and the long ridge of cliffs behind him.
Chev in the boathouse doorway, yellow cap and paddling club shirt, a quiet moment between legs.
Chev carries a kayak overhead out through the boathouse doors while a paddler waits in the foreground.A photographer in a camo jacket drops low on the boardwalk to get the shot.
A young paddler holds his paddle upright among the racked boats, eyes on something off to the side.
In the dim boathouse a woman in a denim jacket smiles beside the paddle racks.Someone has climbed onto the boathouse roof for a better view, legs dangling over the edge.
Three kayaks small against the harbor, the towers of lower Manhattan catching the afternoon sun.
One World Trade Center rises straight up out of the frame as the paddlers cross in front of it.Orange jacket, teal kayak, the downtown skyline filling the whole horizon behind.
Two tiny boats on open water at the tip of Manhattan, the skyline heavy and bright above them.
From the drone, a scatter of kayaks crosses the harbor with the Statue of Liberty ahead under a big blue sky.Before sunrise, Chev leans into the open car door, the river already pink behind the lot.
Hatch up, pump hose on the pavement, Chev gets the board ready in the half light.
Deck pad and paddle shaft, the board's bright blue and yellow waiting on the asphalt.Board under one arm, Chev walks down the sand toward water turning gold with first light.
Chev breaks into a laugh with the inflated board propped against him on the beach.
Paddle in one hand, Chev eases the board onto flat water at the shoreline.High above the river, one paddle boarder heads out toward a sun just clearing the hills.
Standing tall on the board, a lone paddler strokes across mirror water with the sun low behind.
A silhouette walks the board down to the waterline, the sun a hot dot on the horizon.Seen from behind, Chev paddles into water gone orange and lavender at dawn.
A close portrait in the early light, locs falling past his face, eyes off toward the water.
Life vest held up in one hand and a wide grin, Chev ready to go back out.Chev stands at the water with paddle in hand, a suspension bridge and green hills behind him.
The board glides across calm blue water under a suspension bridge, the far shore still in shadow.
From the air, a tiny board beneath the long steel trestle of a railroad bridge and its reflection.Chev paddles under the dark iron trestle, the bridge doubled in the still water.
A cramped basement gym, barbells and a weight bench, two men posing mid session in the dojo.
Chev laughs in a yellow shirt among autumn trees, sun catching the beads in his locs.Chev runs a rocky woodland trail through yellow fall leaves, striped socks flashing.
A still portrait of Chev in front of a marsh pond, fall colour on the far bank.
Close and direct: Chev looks into the lens, the forest soft and golden behind him.Chev stands on a driftwood shore in grey drizzle, yellow shoes the only colour against the river and mist.
Yellow shoes on black gravel and wet twigs, laces pulled tight for a cold December walk.
Hood up and snow on his jacket, Chev breaks into a grin in a winter field.One foot up on a painted boulder, Chev pauses under bare trees with the river fogged in behind.
Chev leans in the doorway of a crumbling brick ruin, peeling whitewash on both sides.
Chev rests on a log bench in the leaf litter, gloved hands folded, shoes bright against brown woods.A white dog leaps up for play on the road and Chev leans back laughing, shoes planted.
The dog stares down the lens while Chev stands behind on the rocks under a deep blue winter sky.
Hands on hips halfway up a boulder slope, Chev takes a breath among the bare trees.Chev climbs the last stretch of open rock toward the ridge, distant hills pale behind him.
Pack on, dog at his heel, Chev heads up the rocky trail after the hikers ahead.Walking the dog down through the winter woods, Chev smiling with the leash slack.
