After our white water run we picked up the car at the put in. We had to portage around the dam, which we did by car. 😊 While we did so we discussed how much more we wanted to do that day. There were take outs listed on the map at six and nine miles down river. It was already after 2 PM but Dot was gung ho to do the whole nine miles. Not wanting to dampen her enthusiasm, Joanie and I agreed.

Toward the end of our morning run we had entered into VT, passing a spot where New Hampshire, Vermont and Canada all come together. I was now officially on my run down VT, which was my original reason for paddling the CT River. I had figured since I had hiked, biked and x-country skied the length of the state, it would be fitting to paddle it. The length of Vermont is 157.4 miles but the length of the winding river down its eastern flank is about 247 miles! The length of the river in Mass. and CT combined is about 130 miles. The remaining 33 or so miles lie in NH, north of the VT border. But ironically, for most of this journey I would be in NH. Most rivers which form the border between two states, are divided down the middle. This is not so for the CT river, which actually lies mostly in NH. The border is described as the low water mark on the western side of the river, which leaves all of the river except that at higher levels, completely in NH.

The guidebook had described this section as quickwater and “flastwater” but a lot of it was pretty flat. At one point, as we meandered around an oxbow in the river, we hit a head wind that was stronger than the current behind us. Once again I was pushing into the wind. We were all feeling pretty weary by the time we reached the take out.

Even though I ended the day a mere 47 miles from where the CT first sprang from the ground, the nature of the river and surrounding land had changed dramatically. What began as a small, rocky stream in a real northern forest of spruce and fir was now a meandering river passing near farmland bordered by deciduous trees. I saw how much of the river’s nature was influenced by the dams blocking free passage of water and creating large lakes up stream.

Thinking about the dams and the changes in the river over such a short time span left me pondering the changes within myself during these last few years. When I arrived home two and one half year ago to discover my husband had left without a word to me, I was devastated. I was thrown back into a place of childhood trauma and dissociation. I seriously contemplated suicide. The only things that kept me alive were my friends and my immersion into outdoor activities.

I spent the first two summers hiking the Continental Divide Trail. Then I road my E-bike 1651 miles in 32 days, visiting all of Vermont’s 251 cities and towns. I followed that up with a ski along the mountainous spine of Vermont on the 300 plus mile long Catamount Trail. I thought I had worked out my grief but found that every time I returned to the house that this man and I literally built with our bare hands and some power tools, I crashed in a big way. I felt swamped by despair, thinking I had lost all that I had gained on my travels. I again wrestled with suicide, which has been with me since I was two years old. But after months of sitting in this painful place, I realized that rather than losing it all, it was in fact the lessons and experiences from these journeys which were now carrying me past what felt like huge dams blocking my ability to find peace and feel loved in the world.

I knew that just as the dams created blockages, causing disconnections in the flow of the river, the abuse I suffered in childhood and the abrupt, cruel way that my husband left had caused disconnections inside of me. By digging deep within I found the strength to overcome fear in the river. This allowed me to make forward progress in a headwind big enough to send two foot high waves crashing over my bow and threatening to capsize me. In the same way I could dig deep within and find strength to keep moving forward in life despite events which feel like huge obstacles threatening to throw me off course. By using the skills I have in the company of my friends I was able to paddle a white water section which scared me. And by continuing to reach toward connection with others I just might make it through this turbulent river of life.

Dot, Joanie and I finally reached the take out and got our boats strapped back onto the cars. I was then treated to a lovely 65th birthday dinner at the Black Bear Tavern in Colebrook, NH. We then parted ways and drove home in a pouring rain and some serious fog. I finally arrived home around midnight. It had been a really long day, and was perhaps the nicest birthday I have ever had.