Hikers, bikers and runners all know that if you’ve been zipping merrily downhill for a while, eventually you’ll face a lung-busting, soul-crushing ascent.

For paddlers, a similarly somber realization materializes during a long downwind, current-propelled stretch.

This was the case Tuesday night when I joined a cluster of kayakers at Esker Point in Noank who spontaneously decided to steer east around Morgan Point and head up the Mystic River, propelled by a gusty south breeze and flood tide.

“We’re going to pay the price when we head back,” Dan Bendor, who was paddling next to me, groaned.

“No kidding,” I replied. “If we were smart, we would have dropped off a few cars beforehand in downtown Mystic.”

No matter — embracing the congenial camaraderie, all of us had gotten caught up in a carpe diem moment. The water sparkled and sun began to dip as we cruised nearly five miles past gracious shoreline homes, handsome sailboats at their moorings, the tall grasses of Sixpenny Island Wildlife Area, and even a live swing band at Cottrell Park before reversing course at Mystic Seaport Museum. It was far too lovely an evening for fretting.

The occasion was the weekly gathering of a loosely organized band known simply as the Tuesday Night Paddlers, which, for more than 20 years, has faithfully launched at various locations between Old Saybrook and the Rhode Island border from April to October. These weekly events, which include post-paddle, potluck picnics, are free and open to everybody.

“We really don’t have a leader. Basically, we just post the schedule on a website and head out,” explained Nick Schade of Groton, who was paddling one of the elegant, wooden Guillemot kayaks he designs and builds.

The group typically includes kayakers with a broad range of experience, and Tuesday’s conclave was no exception. Some stayed within the protected waters of Palmer Cove, while others ventured out into Fishers Island Sound and beyond.

For veteran paddlers, it was like old home week, a reunion among friends who have shared adventures over the years. The mood was decidedly laid back, though. We stopped to chat, to stretch, to discuss the route or simply to enjoy the view.

It was a welcome change of pace from the white-knuckle experiences I’ve had with several in the group. On hand were Phil Warner of Hampden, Mass., who joined me last August on a five-day, 125-mile paddle around remote Lac Manicouagan in central Quebec; Ian Frenkel of Old Saybrook, who has been my tandem partner in such races as the 20-mile, open-water Blackburn Challenge in Gloucester, Mass. and the Mayor’s Cup, a 28-mile circumnavigation of Manhattan; and Dave Fasulo of Essex, author of books about rock-climbing and kayaking, including last year’s “Sea Kayaking and Stand Up Paddling Connecticut Rhode Island, and the Long Island Sound.” A few years ago, I accompanied Dave on the final 30 miles of his monster 70-mile, one-day paddle on the Connecticut River from Agawam, Mass., to Old Saybrook.

I also have been on a few epic expeditions with Dan Bendor, a Waterford psychiatrist who likes to joke that his office has very little overhead — just a couch and a box of Kleenex. He and I have made several 28-mile New London-Orient Point-New London crossings of Long Island Sound, as well as a 300-plus-mile, 11-day circuitous circumnavigation of Long Island that almost ended in disaster in the Atlantic Ocean when we encountered nine-foot seas off Breezy Point.

Therefore by comparison, Tuesday’s upwind, against-the-tide slog back to Esker Point was a pleasant walk — or, I should say, paddle in the park.

Back on land after two hours and nearly 10 miles of paddling, we refueled at a picnic table with pizza, grinders and other snacks.

I enjoyed swapping war stories with Michael Kodas, a former photojournalist for The Hartford Courant who also has kayaked around Long Island. When I mentioned the nine-foot waves on my voyage, he said with a twinkle in his eye, “Mine were TEN feet.”

Michael and his wife, Carolyn, were members of a Connecticut team that encountered brutal weather and nasty infighting during a 2004 expedition to Mount Everest, later described in his book “High Crimes: The Fate of Everest in the Age of Greed.”

Michael, now deputy director of the Center for Environmental Journalism at the University of Colorado, Boulder, was back in Connecticut for a short visit to promote his latest book, “Megafire: The Race to Extinguish a Deadly Epidemic of Flame,” which focuses on the 2013 Yarnell Hill Fire in Arizona that took the lives of 19 elite firefighters.

It was an unexpected treat having Michael and Carolyn along Tuesday. It also was a pleasure making new friends and seeing old ones, which is part of the appeal of the weekly paddles.

For information about joining the group, visit the website tnp.kayakforum.com.