After a quick lunch of hard boiled eggs, apples and cheese we tied the boats onto our cars and headed off to First Connecticut Lake. Looking at the map I have, which is put out by the Connecticut River Paddler’s Trail I saw a place that looked like we could put in on the north end of the 3,125 acre lake. Since we had two cars, we could leave one at the large boat launch near the dam on the southern end of that lake. This way we would only have to paddle the lake once for a total of about 5.5 miles rather than a round trip of 11 miles.

When we dropped the car off we chatted with some Fish and Game employees who warned us that the wind was “terribly strong.” Looking at the lake we could tell the wind was actually less than what we had just come through so we decided to keep moving ahead. We dropped off one car, and drove the boats to the northern inlet where we put in.

The water was moving class I water where we put in and it was sheer joy to actually have current to push us rather than wind against us. We vowed to keep close to the right hand side of the lake, but that plan soon got blown apart by the wind.

At times I felt I was paddling in the ocean. The swells were more constant and larger than many I have seen when swimming off of Cape Cod in Mass. At one point I asked Dot if we were even moving. It seemed that I was looking at the same house to the side of me for a long while. It was then I reminded myself to focus on the small things.

First, even though the wind was strong and was against us, it was not as squirrelly as it had been in the morning. I was much more relaxed and able to enjoy bouncing up and down on the waves. And I learned not to judge my forward progress by looking at items that were far off. Instead I looked at the closest tree or rock and found that indeed I was moving ahead. And even better, at times I stopped trying to gauge forward motion at all and was content to just relax into where I was, trusting that eventually I would reach the take out. I hope I can remember this in my day to day life, appreciating the small steps forward I make rather than bemoaning how far I still have to go.

Because I was more relaxed, I had some time to let my mind wander. I thought about how much easier it is to stop my canoe from getting out of control by nipping a turn in the “wrong” direction before it really goes too far. I often do what is called a “c” stroke which pulls my boat to the side the paddle is on before moving it forward and off to the opposite side. The stroke ends with the bottom of the “c” which again pulls the boat back on course. It is a constant resetting of the course in very small increments. (To learn more about canoe stokes you can go to https://paddlingmag.com/skills/canoe-strokes/)

I thought about what an important lesson this was for me to learn in life. First, in my early adult years, I had to recognize moments when I was letting worry or other unwanted habits get out of hand. I had to be willing to really see and recognize them. Then over time I learned to back away from them, eventually learning to recognize the impending warning signs and to head them off at the pass. And of course anyone who has spent much time around children knows how much easier it is to head off a tantrum than to stop one once it is full blown.

I can’t say I always escape my unwelcome worries. I have learned that when I am really tired, hungry or more stressed than normal I am more prone to fall into the hole. So I try to head that off at the pass as well, by being aware of when I eat and sleep, etc. Again, I don’t always get it “right” but I am much better at it now than I was in my twenties, and I have come a long way more in these last few years. These outdoor adventures force me to be aware of my needs before they get too far out of hand. If I don’t stay on top of the basic things I just cannot keep motoring on, especially at my age, which is now 65.

As I paddled along I realized that it was not all about muscling my way through and that by paying attention to the tiny details of the wind and water I did not have to work so hard. While focusing on the sound and feel of the wind as it interacted with my boat and body, I also thought about how important where we place our focus is. If, rather then working to find things I could enjoy, I had focused on how much physical work it was to paddle into the wind, I might have hated my experience. Instead I was able to emerge from the First CT Lake with another sense of accomplishment. It did not even bother me that I would have to save Lake Francis, the last of the lakes of the upper CT River, for the next day. I was content being right where I was. As if to confirm the rightness of this, just as we took out our boats, the wind died down and a beautiful rainbow appeared over the lake.