18 River miles and one bear of a portage. We went from Maine Trestle Campsite to past the breached Wyoming Dam (River Mile 87)

If anyone wants to follow these sites on a map you can go to https://www.connecticutriverpaddlerstrail.org/crpt7/node/4208 You can follow my trip on their interactive map.

Day six started in a lovely way. There were some clouds blocking the sun and the river was so calm it looked like we were paddling on glass. The water was slower moving and less rocky so we were able to go with the flow and let ourselves drift at times. I thought about how much of my early life I felt I always had to be doing something in order to feel productive. I am so glad that since then I have learned the value of drifting.

It has been proven that letting one’s mind wander is a productive way to think. I was always reminded of this when I did difficult crossword puzzles. I would be stick, sure that I could do no more. Then when I returned to it at a later date I would be able to complete it. While my focus had been on other things my brain had been drifting, finding the answers without my struggling over them. As I drifted down river I was thrilled to notice that the writers block I felt earlier that morning had disappeared. In my drifting mind I was flooded with lots of ideas for these blogs!

I became aware that I had to be careful not to let myself drift too much. The river did a lot of twisting and turning. The wind picked up and at one point when I stopped paddling for a minute, drifting with the wind, I got so turned around in the river that I felt disoriented. With the wind now pushing me upstream and the continual changes in direction of the meandering river I found it difficult to tell which way was down river. I had a moment of panic realizing I really did not know which way to paddle. Luckily Dot was on track and nearby. But this experience made me think about how one can drift too far and so get lost in life. It also reminded me of the importance of good friends to help me stay on track!

When I had been trying to figure out which direction was downriver, I looked back the way I had come and noticed the view was totally different. This got me thinking about how useful it can be to sometimes look back from where we have come from. But like drifting, I did not want to look back for too long unless I wanted to get blown back to Canada. The wind was really picking up.

For the rest of the day we had to push hard into a strong headwind, getting only minor relief during some of the many meandering twists the river made as it wound to the sea. At one point we were in foot-and-one-half-high waves that were crashing over the bow of my boat. I was pleased to notice I felt pretty secure in that tank of a kayak. I decided I must go back and thank again the people who had given it to me.

We had a lovely lunch on a sandy beach, hoping to no avail that the wind would die down by the time we resumed paddling. It was a good thing we did not know that the wind would be the least of our challenges that afternoon or we might have camped right on that beach!

We parted ways with the Northern Forest Canoe Trail and continued down the Connecticut to the take out on the Vermont side of the river, just before the breached Wyoming Dam. The map warned against running this large rapid because of debris such as rebar sticking up under the water from the dam remains. I did not want to run it, but once I saw the take out I sure thought about it!

We beached our boats just above the rapids and searched for a good way to portage. We finally settled on the marked route, though we knew it would not be easy. It was steep and narrow, with a bunch of rock steps. They were steep enough that I had to lift my foot up to knee level to get up.

Dot and I grunted and groaned as we carried my fully loaded boat up that steep, long embankment. Each time we stopped to rest I had to keep holding the front of the boat while leaning uphill with most of my weight in order to stop the boat from sliding back into the river. I was pooped when we finally reached the road. But there was to be no rest for the weary yet. We had to get the boat down the other equally steep side of the road, back into the river. And then we had to get Dot’s boat over.

We were thrilled to discover there was a flat enough place to camp right there below the dam. We dropped my boat and went back for Dot’s much heavier boat and gear. We unloaded a bunch of stuff from her boat and carried it over in sections before loading her boat onto my trailer and hefting it up those steps. Even with less gear it was harder than mine had been.

We definitely felt accomplished as we made camp. We had a lovely chicken Alfredo dinner which I had dehydrated. We both had to slow ourselves down when eating as we were so hungry we were inhaling our food. I crawled into my sleeping bag, grateful for another lovely, albeit tiring, day.