If you’ve lived in Maryland for any length of time, you’ve definitely crossed it. Maybe you were stuck in traffic on the Governor Thomas Johnson Bridge, staring down at the massive expanse of water where the Patuxent River in Maryland meets the Chesapeake Bay. Or perhaps you’ve seen it as a narrow, sleepy stream while hiking in Howard County.
It’s a weird river.
Honestly, the Patuxent is a bit of a geographic anomaly compared to the Potomac or the Susquehanna. Unlike those giants, the Patuxent is entirely contained within the borders of Maryland. It’s ours. All 115 miles of it. From the rolling hills of the Piedmont to the salty, tidal marshes of the Atlantic Coastal Plain, it changes its personality more times than a teenager trying on outfits for prom.
The Patuxent River in Maryland is Actually Three Rivers in One
Most people think of a river as one continuous vibe. Not this one.
Up near its source at Ironstone Ridge, it’s basically a trickle. You could jump across it if you’re athletic enough. This upper section flows through the Patuxent River State Park, and it feels like "Old Maryland"—lots of hardwood forests, some fly fishing spots, and very little noise. It’s cold. It’s clear.
Then you hit the middle section. This is where things get complicated.
Between the Rocky Gorge and Triadelphia Reservoirs, the river is a workhorse. It’s providing drinking water for hundreds of thousands of people in Montgomery and Prince George’s counties. The Washington Suburban Sanitary Commission (WSSC) manages these areas, and if you haven’t gone paddling on Triadelphia during the fall when the leaves turn, you’re missing out. It’s quiet because gas-powered motors aren’t allowed. Just you and the eagles.
Then there’s the Lower Patuxent. This is the part people see on postcards.
Once you get past Upper Marlboro, the river starts to feel the pull of the moon. It becomes tidal. The water turns brackish—a mix of fresh and salt—and the channel widens significantly. By the time it hits Solomons Island, it’s deep enough to hide a submarine. In fact, it's one of the deepest points in the entire Chesapeake Bay watershed.
The "Bernie Fowler" Legacy and the Truth About Water Quality
We can’t talk about the Patuxent without talking about Bernie Fowler. He was a local legend and a former state senator who started the "Wade-In" back in the late 1980s.
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Bernie used to walk into the river in his white sneakers to see if he could still see his feet.
Back in the 1950s, he could wade in chest-deep and see his toes. By the 80s? He’d lose sight of them at his knees. The river was choking on nitrogen and phosphorus from farm runoff and sewage treatment plants. It was a mess.
Is it better now?
Sorta. It’s a mixed bag. The University of Maryland Center for Environmental Science (UMCES) puts out a report card every year. While we’ve made huge strides in reducing point-source pollution—basically, we stopped dumping as much junk directly into the water from pipes—urban runoff is still a nightmare. When it rains in suburban Maryland, all that oil, trash, and fertilizer from your lawn goes straight into the Patuxent.
Still, the grass beds are coming back in some spots. And where there’s grass, there’s life.
Why the Deep Water Matters
Near the mouth of the river, the depth is staggering. It drops to over 100 feet in some holes. This isn’t just a fun fact for geographers; it’s the reason the Patuxent River Naval Air Station (PAX River) exists where it does.
Since World War II, this has been the "Center of Excellence" for naval aviation. If a Navy pilot flies it, it was likely tested over or near the Patuxent. The deep, sheltered waters and the wide-open airspace made it the perfect spot for testing everything from seaplanes to the F-35 Lightning II.
If you’re hanging out at Calvert Cliffs or Drum Point, don’t be surprised if the ground shakes. That’s just the sound of freedom—or a very expensive jet engine being pushed to its limits.
Kayaking the Patuxent: A Realistic Guide
Don’t just go anywhere. If you put in at the wrong spot, you’ll be fighting a tide that feels like a treadmill.
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- For Beginners: Stick to the Patuxent River Park in Upper Marlboro (Jug Bay). The Jug Bay Wetlands Sanctuary is incredible. You’ll see wild rice marshes that look like something out of a movie. It’s one of the largest freshwater tidal wetlands in the world.
- For the "I Want to See History" Crowd: Head to Mount Calvert Historical and Archaeological Park. People have lived here for 8,000 years. You can see where Native American settlements once stood and where an early colonial town eventually rose and fell.
- For the Salty Dogs: Launch from Solomons. But be careful. The current under the Thomas Johnson Bridge is no joke. If you aren't an experienced paddler, the wind and chop can turn a fun afternoon into a Coast Guard rescue mission real quick.
The river is also home to the "Patuxent Water Trail." It’s a coordinated system of campsites and launch points. You can actually multi-day trip this river if you plan it right. Just check the tide charts. Seriously. I’ve seen people try to paddle against an outgoing tide at Benedict and move about six inches in an hour. It's soul-crushing.
The Forgotten Ghost Towns and Shipwrecks
The Patuxent hides things.
During the War of 1812, the British sailed right up the Patuxent to burn Washington D.C. They didn't go up the Potomac because it was too well-defended. The Patuxent was the "back door."
Joshua Barney, a total badass and commodore of the Chesapeake Bay Flotilla, scuttled his own ships in the Patuxent near Wayson's Corner to keep them out of British hands. For centuries, those wrecks sat in the mud. Archaeologists are still finding bits and pieces of the "Scorpion," Barney’s flagship, buried in the river silt.
Then there are the towns. Places like Benedict used to be major hubs for tobacco shipping. Now, they are quiet, sleepy riverside communities. But if you look at the old pilings and the way the land sits, you can see the ghosts of the old steamboat wharves.
Fishing the Patuxent: What’s Actually Biting?
If you’re fishing the upper river, you’re looking for smallmouth bass and the occasional trout (if the DNR has stocked recently). It’s technical fishing. Lots of snags.
Down in the tidal sections, it’s a whole different game.
- Blue Catfish: They are everywhere. They are invasive. They are delicious. If you want to do the river a favor, catch as many as you can and eat them. They are eating everything else, including the native blue crabs.
- Striped Bass (Rockfish): The Maryland state fish. They love the deep channels near the mouth of the river.
- White Perch: Great for kids. You can catch these by the bucketload during the spring run using simple bloodworms or grass shrimp.
- Blue Crabs: The Patuxent produces some of the heaviest, "mistery" crabs in the state. Because the river is a bit narrower than the main Bay, the crabs tend to congregate in the deep holes and along the shelf edges.
A word of advice: check the Maryland Department of the Environment (MDE) consumption advisories. Because of the river's industrial and agricultural history, there are limits on how much fish you should eat from certain sections, particularly concerning PCBs and mercury.
Living on the River: The Real Cost
Property values along the Patuxent vary wildly. You have multi-million dollar estates in Saint Mary’s County with private docks and sunset views that will make you cry. Then you have modest cottages in Calvert or Charles County.
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But living here comes with a catch. Erosion.
The Patuxent eats land. The cliffs in Calvert County are famous for dropping fossils—Megalodon teeth are the big prize—but they are also constantly receding. If you buy a house on the river, you aren't just buying a view; you're buying a lifelong battle against the water. Rip-rap and bulkheads are expensive, and the Maryland Department of Natural Resources (DNR) has very strict rules about how you can "harden" your shoreline. Living here requires a certain level of respect for the power of the tide.
The Future of the Patuxent
What happens next?
The Patuxent River Commission is constantly fighting over land use. The challenge is that the river runs through some of the fastest-growing counties in the country. More houses mean more pavement. More pavement means more "flashy" floods where the river rises three feet in an hour because the rain can't soak into the ground.
Climate change is also pushing salt water further up the river. This "salt wedge" is changing the types of plants that can grow in the marshes. It’s a slow-motion transformation.
But despite the challenges, the Patuxent remains Maryland’s most accessible "wild" place. You can be in the heart of the suburbs one minute and, ten minutes later, be drifting past a nesting pair of bald eagles on a river that looks exactly like it did in 1608 when John Smith first mapped it.
Actionable Steps for Exploring the Patuxent River
- Visit the Calvert Marine Museum: Located in Solomons, this is the best place to understand the relationship between the river, the sea, and the people who live there. They even have a restored screw-pile lighthouse you can tour.
- Check the Tide Charts: Before you head out, use a site like SaltwaterTides.com. Select "Maryland" and then "Patuxent River." If the tide is coming in, paddle upriver. If it's going out, paddle down. Don't fight the moon.
- Download the "Patuxent Water Trail" Maps: The Maryland-National Capital Park and Planning Commission (M-NCPPC) offers detailed maps of every single access point from the headwaters to the mouth.
- Help the River: If you live in the watershed, look into "RainScaping." Reducing the amount of runoff from your own property is the single most effective thing a regular person can do to help the water quality.
- Eat the Invasives: Go to a local seafood market and ask for Blue Catfish. It's cheaper than rockfish, tastes great, and every one you eat helps the native species survive.
- Explore Jug Bay: It’s arguably the most beautiful part of the river. Go in late August or September when the wild rice is in bloom. It’s a birdwatcher’s paradise.
The Patuxent isn't just a body of water. It's a 115-mile long history book, a massive water filter, and a playground. It deserves more than a glance from a car window.