Williams Island -- a hidden James River gem

In the summer, Pony Pasture Rapids is one of the James River Park's most popular destinations. Hundreds of exposed rocks create endless riffles and eddies for thousands of Richmonders to swim, play and cool off in.

On hot weekend days, the Pony Pasture parking lot often overflows with cars and trucks stuffed to bursting with inner tubes, fishing tackle and every other known item of water-related recreational gear.

It's on those days, when I pass by on Riverside Drive, watching families and couples staking out their sections of water and rock, that I wonder how many of them know what lies less than 100 yards to the north. How many know that what they're seeing when they look across the river isn't the James' north bank. How many know about Williams Island?

This column is the first in my 2009 monthly series highlighting urban oases - forgotten, overlooked or otherwise unappreciated patches of wilderness in the greater Richmond area. Williams Island in many ways sets the standard for all the others to follow. The 95-acre island lies close to the geographic center of Richmond, yet is a true wilderness that few people I've talked to have ever heard of.

Most people are shocked when they hear the array of wildlife that either call the island home or visit from time to time: black bears, deer, wild turkeys, foxes, river otters, beavers, not to mention all the songbirds, hawks, owls, ospreys and even bald eagles.

All of which is a function of location. The island is accessible only by boat or swimming - or maybe by rock hopping when the annual August drought hits. That's what allows it to stay so relatively untouched.

A few days ago, as the recent cold snap was breaking, I decided to make a visit to the island to investigate for myself all the things I'd heard. A friend, Tommy Morel, and I rented a canoe from Riverside Outfitters and put in at the Huguenot Flatwater boat ramp. We paddled lazily east, passing dozens of ducks, geese and smaller islands, until we reached Williams.

The sense of wilderness was immediate. Beavers had gnawed on and felled trees on both sides of the path. The trail itself recorded hundreds of deer tracks but just one set of human boot prints.

The soft sand of the path allowed for our first score of the day. Not far from the eastern tip of the island we rousted a whitetail doe from slumber. About thirty yards in front of us, she bounded across the trail and into the island's interior. When she was almost too far away to see, she stopped and looked back, almost confused, as if she couldn't remember the last time she had seen something so strange as humans.

To the south was the Pony Pasture Rapids. To the north was the channel of the James that separates Williams Island from the Kanawha Canal and then Windsor Farms. Canada geese, a blue heron and a lone cormorant perched above the North Wing Dam that allows water to be diverted to the city's nearby settling basin.

Standing at this spot, a visitor can see houses south and north of the river. They're not far, just a few hundred yards, but they seemed a world away. The sense of isolation on the island was profound.

That's nowhere more true than in the interior. There were no more trails to follow, so we ambled in trough the trees - mostly tulip poplars, holly, sycamores, oaks and a few pines.

At the edge of a giant stand of bamboo, we came upon what looked like the remains of a fox. Maybe it was a possum or a raccoon. It was hard to tell. The site was clearly old. All that remained was a mat of fur and the animal's bleached white skull.

We skirted the bamboo and crossed the middle of the island, north to south, to get back to the canoe, looking for that deer the whole time. In the interior, though, our sounds were amplified by the forest floor. The doe was probably just far enough away to hear us load the canoe and leave, standing sentinel in the woods against further intrusion into her island paradise.

Contact Andy Thompson at (804) 649-6579 or outdoors@timesdispatch.com.

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