22.4 miles from Wilder Dam to Wilgus State Park

After sitting out a chilly, rainy day with my friends Pip and Betty, I put in below the Wilder Dam at about 6:45AM. I was glad to have Pip help me get the boat off the car and down the rocky portage to the river. In her eighties, Pip can physically outdo some twenty year olds that I know.

This was the first full day I was really alone so of course I mused about the difference of being alone and feeling lonely. I have carried a deep loneliness inside of me since I was a tiny child. Yet through these past years of solo adventuring I have learned to be okay being alone. I am still working to bring that sense of okayness down to those small parts within me.

I passed by areas that I have driven through many many times, yet I found it difficult to tell exactly where I was from the vantage point of the river. In my kayak on the river I am in a kind of low valley with the banks of the river rising on either side. Once in a while I get an expansive view but much of the time I have little to no idea what is over the banks. Even though I have driven over the junction where the White River empties into the Connecticut River many times, I almost missed it as I paddled by.

I saw a bridge ahead with a long line of cars on it and figured there was road construction going on. Just as I was thinking I wouldn’t have to contend with construction on the river, I did! There was a long line of scaffolds that I had to wend my way between. When I stopped for a minute to chat with the construction workers my boat smacked into one of the piers and I was reminded of the need to always be aware of what is around me on the river. Just like I always had to keep a level of alertness when I had a toddler in the house, I have to keep alert for changing. conditions on the water. I am much more relaxed than I was when I started this trip but I try not to get too complacent. I always try to maintain respect for the power of the river. There is a real difference between lack of fear and complacency.

I passed by a series of small islands that are home to the globally endangered cobble tiger beetle. (https://northernwoodlands.org/outside_story/article/a-real-survivor-the-cobblestone-tiger-beetle) A number of rare plants are also found on these islands. As curious as I was to see them, I did not want to disturb the site. These beetles are a valuable part of the ecosystem, eating some insects and in turn providing food for larger prey.

Nine miles from where I put in I arrived at the head of Summner Falls and my first solo portage. I had been here many times to play in these class III waves which are a favorite of local white water paddlers. I was a bit tempted to run them rather than portage, but I knew it was not a good idea in my fully loaded tank. My memory of he portage, which I had often carried my white water boat over, was that it was not too hard. I soon was reminded that the difficulty rating was all relative.

The water was low so the take out was really mucky. When I tried to lift the stern of my boat to put it onto the trailer my feet got stuck in the muck. I struggled to pull my foot out without losing a shoe all the while holding up the end of my fully laden kayak.

When I finally succeeded I faced another challenge. Due to the low water level I had a lot more rock ledge to navigate. I was really missing having a second set of hands to help. I took a step up the ledge then turned toward the boat and pulled with two hands managing to move Jenny a few inches up the ledge. I had to repeat this maneuver many times careful not to let go of the boat lest if go flying back down the ledge. I am not sure if it helped with the pulling, but letting out a loud grunt each time I tugged on the boat certainly helped my mental state.

After getting over the ledge I had to negotiate some very healthy poison Ivy. At one point I had the choice of going around the noxious weed on a slightly more difficult path or wading through the calf high plants. Normally I would have done what I could to avoid poison ivy but after lugging up the ledge I decided to go for the easier poison ivy path. It is surprising how we sometimes change our minds when presented with the reality of a situation.

Three times my entire boat and trailer flipped on its side when the wheels caught on some very uneven rocks. Then I had to reach into the poison ivy to right it. This certainly was nothing like the easy portage I remembered it being with my lightweight whitewater boat!

I enjoyed lunch number one just below the portage, celebrating having reached the halfway point of my journey. I was sorry not to have Dot here to celebrate with. Hoping to stem a big case of poison ivy I washed off in the river, trying to avoid the large, six inch long crawfish. I did not relish getting bitten by them.

Soon I entered a quickwater section which would have been really fun in higher water. But at this low level it became a rocky obstacle course. Still I was able to make good time downriver, sometimes moving at a rate of 4 mph.

My intention was to go to Hubbard Island to camp for the night. But when I reached Wilgus State Park river magic caused my plans to change. I had paddled these last twenty two miles singing to myself and lost in my own thoughts. Arriving at the Wilgus boat launch I was greeted by Deb and Michael who gave me some cold water. It was nice to have people to talk with. When they asked me if there was anything else I wanted I jokingly mentioned I had been craving popcorn and watermelon. I could not believe it when Michael invited me up to their campsite for some freshly made, salted, buttery popcorn.

Michael gave me quarters so I could rinse off in the campground shower. Deb cooked me dinner and surprised me with some watermelon! She had been a white water paddler and I enjoyed hearing her stories. We were joined for dinner by Ian, a young man working at the park who was interested in hiking and paddling. I was glad to share my knowledge with him, encouraging him to go for his dreams.

I crawled into my tent that night grateful for all of the kindness, beauty and blessings the river was bringing my way.