Day 11 – East Highgate, VT, to Enosburg Falls, VT

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Start: Stealth site just beyond East Highgate, VT

End: Lawyer’s Landing in Enosburg Falls, VT

On the Way:  Missisquoi River, Enosburg

Miles: ~20 (Milepost: 211.5)

Map: 4

Weather: Remember how I said rain was threatening overnight?  Well, it woke me up and will put me to sleep.  I did ask for rain…  Repeatedly…

In Enosburg, near the end of Map 4 and my first segment of Vermont paddling.

I be there.

I was so zonked last night, sleeping in the open on a mid-river rock, such that I didn’t wake up until the rainstorm has soaked through my sleeping bag.  By that point, it was almost dawn, so I thought I’d just pack up and get underway.  It sprinkled throughout the day while I fought my upstream battles with the Missiquoi whitewater and flatwater.  That was fine: I was already wet, and the more rain we get now, the less scratchy the next couple of days’ paddling will be (my eternal, placating mantra).  But then, I very stupidly went for a town break when I finally got to Enosburg Falls, leaving my sleeping bag to “air out” on a fence post at the put-in.  It was still a bit damp, since I had gotten most of the morning rainwater to evaporate out by lashing the open bag atop the kayak during a nice four-mile portage (along a rail trail past some bony rapids, which was the most deluxe portage route I’ve had to far—and with more trail-side apples!). 

The Enosburg Falls Bridge of Lights and Flowers.  Essentially, an old sand-filled bridge (which was some cool engineering) turned into a garden/sitting area.

Paddling up that last bit of dam run-off was fun...

All drying efforts were in vain, it turns out: while I was in the Enosburg library, doing my thang and checking email, the downpour began.  I waited out the worst of it, then trudged dejectedly back to the “campsite.”  (While I appreciate the NFCT’s efforts to give us something—anything—as far as camping space goes, “Lawyer’s Landing” lies as much as its namesake, and is not so much a campsite as a buggy, mown lot with bad drainage.)  I waited under the bridge next to the dam like a troll, not brave enough to sit on the moldy futon the local kids had stashed there for their canoodling, contemplating spending the night under there and wondering if I would encounter the owner of the bottles and ratty blankets if I did. 

The new bridge that replaced the Bridge of Lights and Flowers...and kept me somewhat dry during that afternoon's downpour.

When the rain let up, it was half-an-hour to sunset, so my original plan of dashing down the river to find a comfier field to sleep in was shot.  I set up my sad little tarp on the only feasible uprights around—a corner of a split-rail fence—and put my groundcover and soaked sleeping bag underneath it.  Then Teton showed up, having survived the lightning on the water!  He also called it a day, but could opt for higher ground in his free-standing tent.

I ventured into town to try and dry the bag at the laundromat, but once again, the laundry gods thwarted my plans.  It was closed.  At 1730.  Gotta love these small towns.  In consolation I bought dinner at literally the only place still open, since even the pub had shut down at 1900: a greasy Chinese takeout diner. 

Things Learned:

+ Greasy Chinese food tastes great in crises.  And that deep-fried egg concoction will be the only fuel keeping me warm in my soaked bag tonight.

+ If there’s ONE item of gear to keep dry, it’s your sleeping bag, with camp clothes inside.  Period.  I feel like a moron for compromising that one rule of camping survival.  It’s not cold enough for this mistake to be dangerous, but damn is it uncomfortable.

Trail Magic:

+ More tasty apples along the rail trail, and my portage drying service kind of worked  A method to keep in mind for the future.

+ This campsite’s kind of sketch.  I’d be less afraid if we didn’t have a farm with an angry, loud dog on one side and a bridge overhang with obvious signs of regular occupants on the other, all cordoned off by a fairly busy country highway.  Tomorrow I escape river-ward, the only direction left to go.

+ On to Map 5!

Day 10 – North Hero Island State Park, VT, to East Highgate, VT

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Start: North Hero Island

End: Stealth site just beyond East Highgate, VT
On the Way:  North Hero, Missisquoi River, Swanton

Miles: ~26 (Milepost: 196.5.  So close!)

Map: 4

Weather: Sunny in AM, then overcast.  Would love some rain, but not overnight…

In lieu of NOT being able to report 200 miles down, harrumph, I instead report on my first stealth camping adventure.  It’s private land as far as the eye can see for most of Vermont and Quebec, and in one of those two landmasses I can get caught and tried without an embassy getting involved, so here I am.

Home sweet...rock mound.

It’s quite nice, as far as initial ventures go.  I pulled over to a mound of rocks, peeked over the bank and saw that the other side is just a remote hayfield, found a nice fold of rock to fit my back (just like we just to camp on Big Rock at Camp Redwing!), took a riverbath and washed out the river clothes, made dinner, and kept the headlamp beam under my shirt.  Not too bad, and I got to paddle from dawn to dusk and put some serious miles on, which feels great.

Gorgeous old ironwork on a bridge next to one of the many dam crossings.

The dam was inflatable!  It had this big rubber bladder that kept back the water along the top.
Very impressive engineering.

The bony Missiquoi River

Today I also lined up my first rapid, since this marks the upstream portion of the trail where rapids become climbs rather than drops.  It was right near the scary old remains of the Highgate Dam, and I had just worked up the courage to ask the landowner if I could venture across their river-ride yard with angry “NO TRESPASSING” signs every five feet.  It was a put-in right below the last ledge of the rapids, and to put in any higher upriver would entail an awful dirt road portage and a hand carry…

So I said eff it and walked the boat up through the rapids in the dying light.  Wasn’t that hard, and managed to fall only after the rapid was over.  Made me feel super-human, scaling upriver.  Good thing there will be plenty more of that to come…

Things Learned:

+ Ignore it long enough, and that right shoulder knot becomes a right bicep pain…  NO BUENO.

+ Green algae, when it gets under my clothes, makes me itch real bad.  Not a good sensation when 80% of your body is securely and carefully tucked into boat and skirt and lifejacket foam, far from the prying fingertips with their relief-granting nails.

Trail Magic:

+ Wild grapes, raspberries, and blackberries along the portage!

+ This morning saw me going through a heron rookery at the mouth of the Missiquoi!  Didn’t get to see as many as I had hoped, even though I made sure to get there early, but still saw lots of birds and a couple birders.

+ Had two slices of really fabulous cheese pizza, some chocolate milk, and a popsicle in Swanton, while taking a break from hauling up over two too-damned dams.

+ Here at the stealth site, I’ve seen four beavers playing in the rapids (one slapped at me!) king fishers, and maybe raccoons before the night is out, judging by all the scat around the rocks.

[EDIT: The raccoons stayed well enough away, but I did make a point of hollering into the brush whenever I was awoken by a rustling sound in the night…]

Day 9 – Cumberland Bay State Park, NY, to North Hero State Park, VT

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Start: Cumberland Bay State Park

End: North Hero State Park on Lake Champlain, Stephenson’s Point
On the Way:  Plattsburgh, Cumberland Bay, Lake Champlain, “The Gut,” North Hero

Miles: 22 (Milepost: 170.5.  Neeeeew State!)

Map: 4

Weather: Overcast, then clear, nice and warm.

Crossing from Plattsburg to North Hero involves dodging this
massive ferry boat every half-hour.

NEW STATE!  Reporting from Terra Firma in our second of five states, Vermont.  It’s been 22 miles of paddling the mighty Bitabawgok, against the wind with large waves in pea-green-soup algea-infested waters…  But I’ve loved it.  It feels great to be pushing water again after my hiatus, and any water where one can freely move feels like good water now that I’ve seen the dry and bony alternative.  Like my pal Teton says: at least on a land-based journey, like the AT, the trail will always there, regardless of weather.  With rivers, so highly dependent on rainfall, not so much.  Here’s to the next bit of paddling tomorrow, and may it not be our last to come in a while as we face the Missiquoi.

Enjoying the open water in the morning before the big waves pick up in the afternoon.

Lovely house with its own lighthouse on the banks of Bitabawgok.

Today, with its long stints of heavy paddling, was a great day for brainstorming.  I thought up some Warrior Bunny concepts, which I should sketch up and send along to Carl and Co. along with a request for the cast list and an inquiry about hair and makeup.  I should also follow up on that HUB theater gig…  It’ll be a busy October, but aren’t they always?

[NOTE: In one of my professional lives, I’m a freelance costume designer.  Planet of the Warrior Bunnies was the first show I had lined up for my return, which was miraculously pulled off in about three weeks.  I’m still marveling that it happened.  Some thanks, I suppose, to this planning ahead courtesy of old Bitabawgok.]

This campsite’s lovely, on an island right south of our jumping-off point from the Lake to the Missiquoi River.  By nature of our West-to-East trail, we hardly ever get to face the sunset (plus we get some great south-arm-only tans, which is fun).  Tonight, however, here at North Hero Island, is a rare and exquisite exception, since we’re right at the tip and have a nice expanse of lake to the west.  There’s no one else here except me, Teton, and an older fellow named Ernie who’s an organic farmer from New Jersey, plus hundreds of bright green-and-black little frogs.  As you walk through the weeds and rocky beach around the shore, they hop away and make the path in front of you look like popcorn.  Also lots of raccoons, as evidenced by the heaps of pried-open mussel shells along the shore.  Although I don’t know: maybe the birds here are clever enough for that party trick, too.  It’s too dark to search for a shell and check for claw-marks.

A Shepardson's Point sunset on a froggy beach.

Things Learned:

+ Post drops are as much for getting rid of things as gaining them.  I’m down to three dry bags of gear, which means I can stash my wheels in a hatch and cut down on wind drag where it might make a difference (AKA, lakes)!

Trail Magic:

+ PO Transaction went smoothly—only made a minor mess of river water on the floor, and no one though ill of me for doing a gear and food shake-out on the address-writing table.

+ Got to look at Ernie’s LLC paddling (that’s the Lake Champlain Committee) guidebook.  He’s been coming back to this lake for 19 years’ worth of vacation and still has new places to explore!  He says the cliffs and finger-like fjords to the south have been the most exciting.  He also scoffed when I asked him if he’s spotted Champ the Lakemonster yet.

+ Great lakeside hammock hang with a strong breeze—no need for the bug net!

Right on the edge of the beach.  Falling asleep to waves is what is best in life.

Day 8 – Cumberland Bay State Park, NY (Zero Day #1!)

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Start: Cumberland Bay State Park

End: Same, Cumberland Bay State Park
On the Way: Saranac River, Plattsburgh, Cumberland Bay

Miles: 0 (Milepost: 148.5)

Map: 4

Weather: Overcast, with maybe 30 minutes of downpour!  YES!  MORE!  PLEASE!

I’ve had to do it numerous times in my life, but I don’t think it will ever get any easier to kills time in a small town.  I mean, heck, I grew up in a town of 300, so I should have this ingrained, but when I don’t know whose land is whose and that I won’t be taken for a vagrant for stomping around the neighbor’s woods, it’s tough.  My combined wants of avoiding police suspicion, avoiding attention from creepy strangers, and avoiding spending lots of money always make it a super-awkward time.  Not to say I don’t have things to do: I could easily occupy myself with an entire day of reading or doodling or Internet or napping.  It’s just doing it for a whole day in a combination of parks, coffee shops, and library (when it’s open, booo Sunday hours…) that attracts unwanted attention.

Chocolate and books and lounging in the riverside park.  (Also, note how incredibly low the Saranac is: no way would I be getting a boat down there!)

The Co-op had Taza chocolate--made near where I live in Somerville, MA!

Anyway, it was a boring 0-mile day, waiting for the PO to open.  I don’t want to do another of these for a while: just makes me anxious, since Maine awaits and the deep of autumn is coming.  Tomorrow, I’ll paddle back across the Bay to Plattsburgh, lock up the boat at the dock near the NFCT kiosk, jet over to the PO to open it at 0830 sharp, dash back to the boat before all my gear is lifted (hooray, urban docks), then head out into the waves of Lake Champlain at the exact wrong time of day.  If it’s too dangerous, I can always park along the shore and wait for ~1700, when the Lake generally calms down across the board.

Chatted with Teton some more, since he also wanted to wait another day to do an early morning assault.  He’s got lots of good long-distance trip experience and tips to go with them.  He’s also writing a weekly column for the Portland, ME, newspaper while on the Trail.  Talk about multi-tasking and living the dream.  I oughta pick his brain about how I can land that kind of gig…

Its officially been one week since I embarked from Old Forge.  I want the next couple of weeks to go just as smoothly.  I can’t help but think of folks at home.  Brambleberry seems to be ticking along.  This weekend was orientation at MIT, and it feels weird not to be there in black, leading freshmen astray.  dRachel, my former roommate, is starting grad school in Hawaii and must be feeling even stranger.

Things Learned:

+ You can spend a lot of time quibbling and worrying about beta information and its accompanying data.  Sometimes the impetus of just hitting the Trail and gathering momentum will serve you much better.

+ Plattsburgh likes to think it’s real historically important.  Every other block had a placard about what British atrocity happened there during the War of 1812, or so-and-so war hero lived here.  At the same time, they have a bronze statue of Samuel Champlain literally towering over his native guides, discovering the Lake.  How one has the nerve to “discover” something a group of people lead you to is beyond me.

Oh, Sammy.  Your biggest assets were having a gun along and being European.

English gardens maintained outside of the British Officers' Quarters.

The house had a commanding view of the river and Lake, which is presumably why it was selected.

Trail Magic:

+ Met an Ecuadorian bricklayer named Luis.  He asked me why I didn’t shave my legs.  I asked if he was “a local” and he said, “No, I’m not crazy.”  As in, he’s not loco.  It was a funny moment.

+ The library left its wifi on, so I sat outside underneath the "closed" sign and tried to interpret water level charts via the screen of my Smartphone.  Not very successfully.

Day 7 – Pickett’s Corners, NY, to Cumberland Bay State Park, NY

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Start: Baker’s Acres Campground

End: Cumberland Bay State Park (above Plattsburgh)

On the Way: Saranac River

Miles: ~24.5 (Probably less than, Milepost: 148.5)

Map:  3, 4

Weather: Clear.  Maybe rain tomorrow…?

Trail Overview

Map 4: Plattsburgh, NY, to Enosburg Falls, VT

Checked in to Cumberland Bay!

So today I learned a big, big lesson: intuition says that you should send your post drop to a post office.  Intuition is wrong.  POs have awful hours, as I learned today when I pulled into Plattsburgh at 1320 and found that, on Saturdays, they closed at 1300.  And they weren’t open until 0830 on Monday.  Well, poo.  Looks like I now have an involuntary zero day as I wait for my goodies.  If I didn’t have some nice cold-weather gear and lots of tasty food in there, I’d say “eff it.”  But…a day off wouldn’t hurt, either.  My back’s been behaving better today, despite some hardships.

So I was hustling along, trying to make my mail drop, cruising down the Saranac’s wide, gorgeous part, got to the Kent Falls carry, made it to the subsequent put-in, and found Teton, the through-paddler I’ve been chasing through the registers thus far!  He’d camped by the put-in and said the water looked real bony down the river.  I believed him, and knew a long portage lay ahead and would be much more pleasant with company.  So we walked, boats in tow, the ~6 mi of road to Plattsburgh.  Definitely my longest portage yet, and technically longer than the longest official portage (emphasis on the official).

Anyway, we cruised along together until he stopped for a burger, I walked on ahead (calling Mom along the way), missed the PO hours, decided Plattsburgh was a great place to explore without a boat tagging along, and headed up to the nearest State Park for a campsite.  It’s a nice little CCC Park with a neat history from the Battle of Plattsburgh, although the fees seem kind of exorbitant after so many nights of ~free camping ($46 for two nights).  Worth it for a safe boat parking space, I guess.  

The strategic placement of the bay for the Lake Champlain naval battle.

Spooky to imagine the battle happening on this serene horizon, more than two centuries earlier.

Teton also made it up out of P-burgh, and after deciding that Champlain was too windy this afternoon, decided to join me for a night before tackling it again in the morning.  (Early morning and evening seem to be the least windy/wave-filled periods.)  He’s a really cool guy: I feel a little dwarfed by all the rad adventures he’s been on.

My campsite at Cumberland Bay State Park.  I made sure to choose one at the
edges so I could have lots of hammock hanging options!

And later, company!

[EDIT: Teton is actually one half of the blogging team The Wild Outsiders, and is much more attentive to his blog than I have been to this one.  He also covered his NFCT trip for a column in a Portland newspaper—talk about an awesome job!]

Things Learned:

+ POs are baaaaad drop points.  Bad bad bad.  Restaurants and hotels, as long as you call ahead, have much better hours.  Just have to be strategic about the location, and make sure a PO is nearby so as to send the box off again.

+ No kidding—Champlain’s green algae blooms are nasty.  The reports didn’t exaggerate: it’s everywhere, and it really itches when it gets under your clothes.  The public beach we pulled through to get to the State Park looked like pea soup, but that didn’t keep the plucky locals out.

Naaaasty.

+ I think my boat’s actually more like 18’…  Craigslist man I bought it from must have been mistaken when he billed it as 16’.

Trail Magic:

+ Finally catching the man in the mango kayak, after seeing his register entries a day ahead for a week!

+ The Park is adjacent to a rowdy public beach.  As I paddled in, I found a plastic water gun bobbing in the surf.  I scooped it up and handed it to the nearest kid, who seemed excited to squirt his mom.  There’s also a lakeside beach bar with ice cream and live music and a giant paella pit!

Routinely gorgeous sunsets over the Lake.

A peck of windsurfers also camping at the State Park!  I chatted with them at their site later: they were from Quebec, and very nonchalant about the amazing physics of their sport.  Or maybe that was the language barrier.

Giant paella pan for the fire pit!  Who'd have thunk: Northeasterners know how to do beachside bars.

+ Checking into this campground means hot showers two nights in a row—great for the back muscles, and for my sitemates’ olfactory glands.

+ Saw my first bald eagle this morning!

+ Rain tomorrow, as well as a Zero day in Plattsburgh!