August 16, Day 60

River of Rocks. Starting out the last day on the St. John. Photo Scott Mumford

Amazing, last page of my journal, last day of my journey.  I do not think I could have worked that out if I tried. It was grey and a little cold this morning as I pulled Sparky out onto the river behind the Pelletier Campground.  I knew it would take me about 5 hours to finish up on the St. John, Canada on my left, the USA on my right. I was feeling a little nervous about meeting people at the take-out and  somewhat melancholy to be finishing up.  I tried to take some pictures but while the light was flat, my heart was jumping, so I put the camera away for the last time on this journey.

Walking into Ft. Kent, ME

The final stretch was uneventful, the water was shallow in spots and I had to get out and walk Sparky some. The St. John was wide, the current gentle, the riverbed covered with small, sometimes slippery stones. Walking was not too difficult when compared to some other rivers I have encountered along the way.  Scott found me in a few spots where the river met the road and took pictures. I am grateful because, for obvious reasons, there are very few pictures of Sparky and I out on the water. As I went under the bridge, right before the final take-out the water again became so low that I had to get out and walk Sparky in to the shore.

There was a small entourage waiting for me on the beach, my smile was wide and heart-felt. Answered some questions for the press, took some pictures in front of the NFCT terminus kiosk then went down to pull the boat out one last time. Amen.

I wrote Amen as my final word because this journey felt like one long prayer or meditation. Now, the start of a new song, a different dance. I have a few final entries yet, reflections and observations written after the trip.

“Nothing contributes so much to tranquillize the mind as a steady purpose – a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye.”  -  Mary Shelley

“Do not be afraid.”  -  Jesus

August 15, Day 59

The Allagash Falls, ME

Started off the day by portaging Sparky down to the base of the Falls. I climbed over some big rocks to get a better look and a few pictures. This morning the river was a little shallow and I had to walk in a few spots but otherwise things went smoothly. A couple of Class two rapids later I made it to The Two River’s Lunch spot right behind a huge group of bikers. I think the cook, waitress and cashier were all one person. She had her hands full for sure and it took me almost 2 and half hours to get and eat lunch.

While waiting and waiting and waiting I met Allagash Waterway Ranger Chase Joe Jackson and his uncle Louis.  Chase started up the conversation by asking if I was the solo through paddler. Seems there had been a small article in the paper that morning about my coming through in a non-regulation size boat. Chase, whose dad is a local legislator, told me that the size restrictions on the AWW had been relaxed just last year. We had a great conversation; I think Chase could be an  awesome politician himself, so personable and friendly. Louis, also personable and friendly, resides right on the river and told me to paddle the left channel of the Saint John, which proved to be good advice as the water level was noticeably higher there.

After lunch I was hoping to reach “The American Dream” campsite, 12 miles to Ft. Kent with showers and laundry facilities ….  but if I couldn’t get there the Pelletier campsite was 17 miles from the finish, no showers or laundry facilities. That is where I ended up. The two and a half hour lunch put me behind schedule and as darkness began to fall around 6:30, I still had not come across the first campsite.

The phone rang … I’d been out of service for days so that  was a thrill….I was so close to the end, feeling very excited and  wanting to share my enthusiasm. It was Geoff! Yeah! We had not spoken since I left. Had to get off sooner than I wanted to. I was losing the light and nervous, not knowing where I would be sleeping for the night.  Then, Scott called; he was close by and had secured lodging for the night in Ft. Kent, a 15 min. drive from Pelletier. This means I can have a hot shower and clean clothes for my arrival at the end of the Trail in Fort Kent tomorrow. Just then I spotted red garbage cans on river right,  according to the guidebook, an easy way to identify the Pelletier Campground. I gave Scott the address.  Paddled up to a wide rocky beach, unpacked my clothes and camera bag but left everything else in the boat. Won’t need the tent tonight. An hour later Scott pulled up.  It was great to see him, I was so excited, so close to the end and feeling celebratory for sure!

Paddling on the St. John, very close to the end of my journey. Photo Scott Mumford

August 14, Day 58

A long but successful day.  Started out at 7:08, into the mist. Portaged around the old dam, it was easy.  The river was nice in the morning but I had to get out and do a lot of dragging through shallow water this afternoon. Saw five or six moose today. At one point I actually thought, Geez, another moose to paddle around!  I give them as wide a berth as possible. I do not want to bother them at all…like I said they are big! I have had no unfortunate animal incidents thus far and I prefer to keep it this way.

I finally made it to the Ranger’s Station late afternoon and went to sign out of The AWW.  The station was unoccupied but I found and open door which lead to a little room and an official Registration Book. I filled in all the information, anxious to do everything, “by the book”, since I was clearly on the radar now.

From there it was only about three miles to The Allagash Falls and my intended resting place for the night. It took me an hour or so. I was a little concerned because according to the Registration Book three other families are planning to spend the night at the Falls.  This area has only four sites, so if someone did not sign in and reached the Falls first, I could be out of luck. My fears were unfounded and when I arrived I found not one but three open sites. It was hard to choose because they were all perfect. I decided to take the site farthest from the take-out and closest to tomorrow’s put- it. I still had some light and energy left so wheeled the steep path along the woods past the Falls. I couldn’t see the falls but I could feel the rumble beneath my feet and hear the power.  I think I did 30 miles today, a record! Goodnight.

PS: all my stuff is starting to smell bad.

By the time I finished setting up the tent it was dark. Normally I would have crawled into my sleeping bag right after securing everything for the night, but not tonight. The stars are amazing, I have a roaring fire, the comforting buzz of insects and the pounding white noise of the river below. I am almost done; I will probably have only one more night of camping. Now I am trying to breathe it all in and hold it. Somehow make it last or at least take some of the peace and solitude with me, as I head back to that other world.

“There are voices which we hear in solitude, but they grow faint and inaudible as we enter into the world.”  - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Sparky at The Allagsh Falls take-out

August 13, Day 57

A great day! Finally made lots of progress, 25 miles, I think. Off of map 12 and on to 13. Last night I ceremoniously removed Map 12 from the mapcase, put it in my spot for maps completed and placed 13 inside the case! TaDa! Last map!

Was in the boat by 6:35am. Paddled off into the mist and fog. Very pretty and peaceful.  Hard to describe how it feels to be out in this pre dawn amorphous  landscape. Watching the sun come up to gradually showcase what must be some of her finest real estate. Lucky, maybe that is how I felt. Later, I passed the time singing old Joni Mitchell tunes, apparently the only artist whose lyrics I know beyond the first verse. (First Blue, then  Court and Spark …. sorry birds).

Around 8am, two kayakers passed me by, about 20 ft. away on river left.  It felt like a sacred place so I can understand not getting a big shout out or hello, for the same reason you don’t yell out loud in church , but these guys did not even glance in my direction. They kept their eyes forward and paddled without a break in their stroke for the next mile or two until they all but disappeared, turning into tiny dots on the horizon. If was afternoon I would have thought they were racing me to the next campsite. People come out here to get away, for a break in the everyday noise, but a nod or a wave, even from a stoic fisherman, is customary river etiquette.  Weird.

When I was a mile or less from Chuchill Dam a small white powerboat approached at a slow pace. I waved my paddle, making sure he saw me, rather than correcting his course he seemed to come right at me. This boater wanted to talk. It was a ranger, Ranger Patrick, he said Hello and made some small talk, asked if I was doing the trail, where I had camped last night…..and then, do you know if your boat is regulation size? What? When I was planning the trip, many months back in the dead of winter, I had checked out the regulations for The Allagash WW. At this point I had a vague recollection of measuring the boat and coming up an inch shy on the width and then thinking who’s going to notice an inch. I really had pushed it out of my mind completely which is why the question caught me so off guard. “Well it’s classified as a recreational boat and since this is a recreational waterway I assume it is regulation size.” I said this with more bravado then I was feeling. My palms were sweating and my heart racing. I am so close, so close!

Patrick said the Rangers at Churchhill Dam had gotten a call, he did not have a name or details, but the caller said that I would be coming through in a non regulation size boat.  My mind was racing, who would do such a thing, I thought someone was trying to sabotage the trip…but who, why?  Patrick said, “I have a size chart and a tape measure, would you like to know now or wait until the Ranger measures it at the dam?” “Let’s wait, ….. no I can’t stand it, hand me the tape measure.” It came up an inch shy width wise. I asked Patrick if the Ranger in charge of the dam is nice. He smiled and said yes, but quickly added something like yes but…..( no promises).  At this point he also reports that someone has arranged for a regulation sized kayak to be brought to the dam so that I can continue along the trail. I am just totally confused now. I have no cell service and haven’t spoken to family or friends for days. This latest news makes me feel supported not sabotaged!  There is some piece of the puzzle I am just not getting at this point. Patrick leaves me to paddle the next ¼ mile to the dam and the ranger with his tape measure and his power to “mess with my program”.

Here is a funny side bar which happened amidst all this drama: As I was pulling up to the dam, filled with trepidation, the two furtive kayakers who had passed me by earlier had arrived, pulled their vehicle down to the ramp and had just placed the boats on the roof when I touched down. I thought, well now they will have to acknowledge me since I will pass within 5 ft of them while they tie the boats down. To my amazement they jumped in the car and took off, no tying down….guess what happened next? You got it,  the yaks went flying off the roof as soon as he hit the gas. What the heck? I can see maybe one person forgetting to tie down one boat, but two people, two boats? You would think one of them would have said, “hey don’t we need to secure these boats? “ They got out, sheepishly. I nodded and then politely averted my eyes but suppressing that giant grin was really hard. Something else I just didn’t get. Maybe they came up behind me while I was singing and were just desperate to get away..who’s to say.

Beached, walked across the dam to an empty Ranger Station, turned around and walked back over the dam. I could see the Ranger and an assistant maybe? Gathered around Sparky, I took a deep breath, waved, when they noticed me notice them, and kept putting one foot in front of the other.  The younger Ranger came up to meet me, he was nice and politely asked me how I was to which I replied, “Is my boat regulation size?” He looked a little taken aback by my bluntness, (lack of grace), but I was really uptight at this moment. He said no but I believe there is some wiggle room. I breathed a sigh of relief, I hope I gave that young man a smile, I was a little rude, he was not. Headed down the ramp and shook hands with the head Ranger.  Ranger Ken was very nice, he got right to it, “your boat is an inch shy of regulation width, my normal policy, in cases like this, is to give a verbal warning, tell you not to come back through in this boat and send you on your way. There, consider that your verbal warning.” I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Thank you Ranger Ken. He even helped me carry Sparky over the road to the put in on the other side of the dam. I paid my camping fees for the past two nights and got an official written warning since we were filling out paperwork anyway. When Ken handed me the warning he said, “For your memorabilia.” A sweet and funny comment.

As the ranger and I were talking about the rapids and conditions ahead Chris and Hope pulled up with a regulation size kayak for me….seems I had some guardian angels out there that I did not know about. Chris was from Greenwood, ME, I think and said some of my paddling friends were worried that my boat was way off regulation size and might be confiscated, a trip ender, my biggest fear just 20 min. ago.  They were so nice, I was concerned, did you come far…”No just from Greenwood.” That was Chris, he delivered that line as if Greenwood was just around the corner, later found out it had been a three-hour drive. I should have been nicer, I was uptight, I wasn’t rude just like, ok got to go, thanks. I did not realize they had driven 3 hours just to give me a kayak that I barely even glanced at. I did not understand what was going on and at this point I just wanted to finish successfully, plus there were rapids ahead!

I decided to run the rapids without gear because, what the heck, the gear transport service exists, it is more fun to run a boat empty, (less anxiety about keeping the gear dry) and the fee will help support the AWW.  The rapids were fun, fun, fun, so nice to be going fast and catching an adrenaline buzz, not the stressful adrenaline rush I just went through at the dam but the kind of excitement that comes from pure physical thrill.  On to Lake Umsaskis, still had a slight current going my way and a gentle wind helped push me along. The weather was perfect.  Ended the day at Lost Popple Campsite on Long Lake. Goodnight.

August 12, Day 56

Morning mist on Eagle Lake, ME

What a discouraging day. It all started out beautifully.  Woke up just before first light, it was cool but the air warmed quickly as the shadows retreated. There was a thick mist on the lake this morning. The rising sun peeked over the layer of fog and touched hundreds of dew drops along the grassy shore. Each one glittered like a tiny jewel. I shot some pictures; hope I captured something close to how stunning it actually was.  Packed up and was on the water by 7am. When I said goodbye to Crow’s Nest the mist was so thick I could barely see beyond the bow, an hour later the sky was blue and crystal clear.

Off I went towards The Tramway Carry. I was looking forward to taking some good pictures of the steam engine carcass along the path,  also anxious to make good time and lots of miles.  When the mist cleared I could see the water, smooth as glass today and pretty shallow. I cut across the lake and started skirting the shore looking for the take-out.  When I didn’t find it I consulted the map and compass and determined I had been looking in the wrong spot. I went to scout along the correct shoreline. Never found the entrance to the Tramway Carry, though I tried really hard, at least two hours just up and down the spot where I was sure it had to be. I wondered that perhaps the water may be so low that I may have to hike in a bit. I left Sparky in the shallow water and explored up and down the shoreline looking for any break in the trees. Nothing, nothing, nothing.  Finally had to give up, back track, head to Lock Dam and access Eagle Lake that way.  I was mad, my mileage goal for the day shot to hell.

Eagle Lake is pretty and I remember thinking, Eagle, hey I can pronounce that, why I even know how to spell that.  The shore was dotted with camp sites, many of them occupied and I was happy to find a vacant site around 5pm as I was looking to get off the water. Little Eagle Campground is a double site tucked into the woods close to the shore. Very pretty. Tomorrow onto the Allagash Wilderness Waterway and Map 13! The final map.

For the first time during my trip I am feeling a little “deadline pressure”. If I can get to Ft. Kent in a few days Scott will be able to meet me and drive me back to NJ after a few days rest at my brother and sister-in-law’s pretty little Vermont home. It is a small window of opportunity though because he will have to be back at work soon.

I got some beautiful pictures on this day. One of my favorite shots was taken of Sparky, peacefully waiting for me in still waters while I frantically wandered the shore looking for the trailhead.

Sparky waiting for me while I scout the shore on Chamberlain Lake, ME

August 11, Day 55

Not  a bad day at all. I didn’t make the miles I wanted to because most of the day was spent paddling into a stiff wind.  Woke up at my tiny makeshift camp on Mud Pond. Broke camp kind of slowly this morning, made sure I left “no trace”, didn’t get back on the pond until 9 or 9:30am. Quickly reached the portage and went to check it out a second time, this time with a good night’s sleep under my belt.  I walked maybe ½ the path, lots of rocks and roots, not wheelable. I went back to the pond and took another look at Mud Brook. The water was still low, I could pull over the beaver dam and the downed trees, well I had dealt with them before. I decided that if I was going to be pulling, carrying dragging the boat I would just as soon be walking along the riverbed as opposed to the trail through the woods. So over the dam we went, the first part of the brook was tree choked but I was pleasantly surprised after just a little bit of hard work. The water got deeper and I found myself being pushed quickly along a tiny narrow winding stream.  It was really fun and pretty. I truly felt like an adventurer, it was easy to pretend I was some kind of explorer or Indian girl finding my way through an ancient forest.

On to Chamberlain Lake. Chamberlain was windy but nothing like Moosehead.  The plan was to camp at Upper Crow’s Nest and head out to The Tramway Carry in the morning. I passed Crow’s Nest and continued close to shore looking for Upper Crow’s Nest. Never found it. Paddled back to Crow’s Nest and set up camp. This is another nice site with a long wooden walkway over a mucky area leading to a picnic table, tent site and an outhouse. There was fresh, dry firewood too! Set up camp, took a swim and had a hot dinner and a fire tonight.

I am getting close to the end of the trail and having mixed feelings about finishing, though I am ready for some creature comforts, like music and books, I’m a little unwilling to give up the peace and serenity I have found out here.

When I  laid my head down to go to sleep on this night I could hear tiny creatures, (bugs of some sort I guess) tunneling around under the tent in the mud. First time I have had this experience.  Kind of fascinating and a little creepy too! I wonder who and what was going on down there?

Just found this cool link about soil organisms!

http://blog.nature.org/2011/02/soil-organisms-conservation-sophie-parker-conservancy/

PS: I never found Upper Crow’s Nest because it is no longer an official site. Spoke to a Ranger who told me it had been eliminated in 2009 due to lack of use.

Coming into Chamberlain Lake

August 10, Day 54

What a long hard day! Got an early start up the last little bit of Umbazooksus Stream to Umbazooksus Lake and then across to Mud Pond Carry. I found the entrance to the carry easily enough, but that was where easy ended. This historically hard carry lived up to its reputation, in my humble opinion. I had to carry Sparky empty through a very winding narrow, (sometimes only a foot and a half wide) water/mud filled channel leading deep into a thick forest. You could not see through the water to the bottom which was choked with roots, logs and who knows what else. Every single step had to be taken with care. I had to go back and do it all over again 3 times in order to retrieve the gear. In the past I have been able to transport all my gear in two trips, today it took three, had to carry the wheels which just put me over the two trip top. Six hours, two miles. I passed the Outward Bound kids a few times along the carry and they passed me as well. They worked in teams, first carrying gear, then going back for the canoes. They were having a hard time too and we gave each other weak smiles of encouragement in passing as we slogged along. I waved goodbye as they paddled triumphantly off right before I went back to get the last of my gear, tucked alongside the trail about ¼ mile back.

Finally got everything to Mud Pond, which also lived up to its name.  Thigh high mud at the put-in. The feeling of exuberance at completing the carry was muted considerably when I realized that loading and disembarking was going to be hard and messy. It was getting dark and I thought about camping right where I stood, should have.  Crossed Mud Pond in a light rain at about 5:30 or 6pm. Located the Mud Brook entrance and a carry road close by. The Brook looked impassable, a beaver dam, low water and lots of downed trees. I got out and started to scout the portage trail. Another tough one that I would not be able to wheel. It was getting dark, raining and I thought there is no freaking way I will be taking multiple trips with gear and boat over land again. Not tonight anyway.

Back into the boat, scouting along the shore looking for a place to call home for the night. I found a tiny, barley workable spot up a steep muddy bank. Brought up the bare minimum and managed to squeeze the tent into a tiny little clearing. The ground is lumpy and uneven but I am pretty sure I could fall asleep on a rock tonight. I will tackle that portage tomorrow. I have had enough for one day for sure. Night.

I am really glad I did the Mud Pond Carry. To quote my friend Mike’s trail blog, “glad I did it, don’t need to do it again.” http://site.kayakathonman.com/KayakathonMan.html