
11.1 Miles to Lynde Point Light plus about .5 to the outer breakwater light and 2+ more miles to my final take out in North Cove
I had made peace with the fact that I would be finishing this trip on my own. Part of me wished I had a welcoming crew, but over these last few years I have gotten used to being by myself. When I go for days on end without talking to anyone I go to some deep internal place and feel like I lose a sense of myself. On this paddling adventure I had talked with people most days, but seldom for long, and most nights and meals were spent in the silence of my own company. For the last week or so I had not even felt like singing.

The day began hot, clear and calm. Before long I was immersed in fog that really felt like ocean fog. It was a sign that I was nearing the end of my journey. I found it interesting that only two days ago it had hit me that this trip I was on really was an adventure equal to some of my other pursuits. This trip had had challenges and required me to dig deep at times to keep going. Although paddling was easier than hiking, it takes some stamina to be on the water in the glaring sun day after day. Some nights I got into my tent and felt I was still moving on the waves. Keeping everything dry had been a daily chore. Each evening and morning I sponged out the entire boat. Multiple time during the day I again sponged out the cockpit. My spray skirt was not very water proof and had gotten less so as the trip progressed. It kept the bulk of the water out when the motorboats or wind sent water crashing over my bow. But plenty of water seeped in through the sprayskirt and sponging every hour or two really made a difference. I did not like sitting in water all day long.
I met a woman my age who was moving upriver in a scull. Soon she changed course and came back in my direction. I was impressed by her strength and agility and wondered if I could find a way to take up the sport. She slowed down to my speed and I enjoyed having someone to talk with. I had spent much of this last week alone with my thoughts.

The river kept widening and the waves really picked up, as did the wind. I was really rocking and rolling over them. There were a number of large boats and their wakes combined with the waves to leave me feeling on the edge of being scared. I had learned that Jenny could handle quite a bit of rocking over the waves, but these were coming at me from a number of directions and were three or more feet high. At times I felt a bit dizzy and had trouble knowing which way I was going. I forced myself to focus on what was in front of me. I told myself all I had to do was remain upright.
Sometimes I plied hard when I was on the crest of a wave. This gave me momentum to move forward at a greater pace, but it also sent a lot of water crashing onto my spray skirt. Jenny would nose dive off the crest into the troughs and water would wash over me up to my shoulders. I could tell from what splashed onto my face that it was getting more saline the further south I went.

I again passed numerous schools of fish, eagles, and artistic looking tree roots. I went by another swing bridge that opened to let a ship pass by while I paddled under. Soon after the bridge I had my first glimpse of a lighthouse way off on the horizon. I felt some growing excitement take hold and I sent a whoop of joy into the wind.
As I neared the lighthouse I could see that there was a second one further out. I did not know which was the one listed on my trail app but I knew I wanted to go out to that second one. It was at the end of a long jetty and it definitely marked the beginning of open water. I was determined to get there. Even though it was a calm morning, it was not easy pushing against the waves. I was in a fairly narrow channel with a rock jetty on both sides of me. The wakes from the large boats bounced back and forth off the jetty walls and really threw me around. I was relieved to finally reach the outer light.

If you zoom in you can just barely see a lighthouse under the center of the raised section of bridge. Notice the large ships on the right.
I had not felt comfortable stopping in the wind and waves so I did not take my usual water and snack breaks. This took a toll on me and between dehydration, hunger and the rocking waves I was feeling a bit nauseous and dizzy by the time I reached the outer lighthouse. Still, I paddled out past that light. I really wanted to be in the open water. At first it seemed fairly calm and I felt safe enough to snap a few pictures. But then some boats came by and I found myself in the five foot waves that had been predicted. They towered over me and I worked to get Jenny aligned so they did not hit her broadside. Once the wakes subsided I decided I better high tail it back inland. I had a fleeting thought that people make it to the summit of Everest only to die on the way back down. I wanted to make it back in one piece. But now that the excitement was over I felt how weary I really was. I was hot and hungry, thirsty and tired. But I still had two more miles to paddle to the take out. When I looked at my app I realized that the second light was well past where they ended the “trail.” The first lighthouse I had encountered was the last place mentioned on the app. I now appeared on the gps as a little speck floating in the large blue sea.

The tide was still going out so now I was pushing against it to get back inland. It was an odd feeling to know I was now looking north, upriver as I paddled. I had a brief thought that I could turn around and go back to the Canadian border. Thankfully that idea never really took root in my mind. There was no way I was going to portage up around those dams nor line up the white water sections. Even though I might come back sometime, I had had enough of this river for one summer.
I went by a dock and spoke with a young man, asking him which was North Cove. He told me it was a long way away. I couldn’t help but laugh. I knew it could not be more than a few miles. After what I had just paddled that was nothing, It reminded me how relative everything is.

The young man asked if I needed anything and I jokingly said “an ice cream.”
“We have some,” he replied. I could not believe my ears. There was a small marina store selling gas and they had ice cream sandwiches for just a few dollars. I had smartened up and started carrying a few dollars in the pocket of my life jacket for just such an event. I contemplated buying a bunch of them but settled on one. I was holding out for some better ice cream once I hit the mainland. I handed the money up to him and he threw me down a rope so I could hang out at the dock. He returned and I ingested that cold, sweet treat in just a few bites. I was hungry! I have often enjoyed being hungry enough to really appreciate the food I eat. I definitely felt a bit better after eating that ice cream and drinking some water.

It took some effort but I finally reached North Cove and wound my way among a number of kids on small sailboats. I had trouble getting out of Jenny at the dock so I landed her in some muck off to the side. I sunk in the stinking mud as I stood up, picking my way through weeds and dead fish. My paddle of the Connecticut River from source to sea was over.


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