This is Part II of a trip Report. Part I can be found here.
Thursday
Dear reader, are you confused because Part I of this trip report referenced so many different lakes? Upper Saranac, Lower Saranac, Middle Saranac, Sidewise Left-Handed Saranac? Well just to warn you, this entry mentions several additional lakes, two ponds, and a river. Here's a very simplified diagram of the layout of the Saranac chain of lakes (some additional lakes and ponds in the chain are not shown, since they didn't play into our route):
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| Fig. 1: The Saranac Lakes for Dummies |
To recap, we started our trip at the South Creek Launch at the bottom of Middle Saranac Lake and spent a few days on that lake. At this point in the trip we are heading through the Saranac River into Lower Saranac Lake.
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| Paddling the lakes |
Repositioning days are tough: you have to break camp, pack the kayaks, paddle a loaded kayak to a new destination, and then unpack the kayaks and make camp again. Sometimes, as in this trip, you also have to spend some time hunting around for a campsite. On such days I start packing as soon as I wake up: get out of bed and pack up the sleeping bag and pillow (BTW, I like my new inflatable pillow!), get dressed then pack up the rest of my clothes, and so on. Even with such a focused approach it somehow takes hours to get ready to go. Tom is always the fastest to pack; Rob, who has to pack up his smoothie machine, digital home theater system, and portable Pilates reformer (OK, I am making all of that up, but I would not be surprised to see any of those things appear out of Rob's kayak), usually takes a little longer than I do - but one nice thing about our small group is that the three of us were pretty nimble and almost always beat our target launch time. In this case we launched at 10:15, fifteen minutes ahead of our target time. Our boats were chock full once again, since during our previous day's trip back to the cars we had swapped clothes and resupplied with food - supplies for the second half of the trip we had staged in the cars at the outset.
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| I was happy to say goodbye to the dozens of daddy-longlegs which were constantly swarming my kayak - but only mine! I guess they like mango color |
Our Middle Saranac campsite was right near the entrance to the Saranac River connection to Lower Saranac Lake (see Fig. 1), and so upon launching we were almost immediately into narrow river paddling. The river is used by both paddlers and motorboats, and while it wasn't very busy, every once in a while we'd have to make way for a powerboat. One of the distinctive features of the Saranac chain of lakes is that there are small locks in a couple of places which make it possible to navigate between lakes (the natural connections between the lakes are small rapids, which would be impassible for larger boats and would have meant portages for us). Sometimes the locks are staffed, and sometimes you get to operate them yourself. On this trip the Upper Lock (continuing the confusing naming scheme, the Upper Lock connects the Middle to the Lower lakes) was unattended, which meant that I got to hop out and work it! On our previous trip the group appointed me, as the engineer of the group, to figure out how to work the lock, making me the group's perennial lock expert, dubbed the "Lock Jess Monster". I'm perfectly happy with this arrangement, since working the locks is fun!
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| Tom waiting to enter the lock, pulling my kayak along |
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| The Lock Jess Monster astride the lock |
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| Swinging the lock door open |
We found the lock set up in the right direction. I hopped out and handed the bow line from my kayak to Tom. He and Rob paddled into the lock pulling my boat along, after which I closed the lock doors, worked the "wickets" to adjust the water level, then opened the lock doors on the other side. Hopping back into my kayak was a little tricky, as the dock is high (at motor boat height), but not too big of a deal. Then we were on our way into Lower Saranac Lake.
As with Middle Saranac Lake, at this time of year the campsites on Lower Saranac were first come, first served with plenty of availability, but there was a catch: many of the sites on Lower lacked suitable landings for kayaks. They were fine for motor boats or in some cases canoes - in both of those you can step out of the boat onto shore while the boat is still floating - but lacked the kind of beach area needed to land kayaks. Score one for canoes as the paddlecraft of choice for these lakes, I guess. We paddled around for a while looking at different campsites. After a while the wind started to pick up and the lake got choppy, making it that much harder to paddle our loaded kayaks (Rob had weighed his gear before departure and reported that he had 140 lbs. of gear with him - gearwise we aren't exactly backpacker light). Finally we chose Site 49, an expansive, open site which had a good location, 180 degree view of the water, and a usable (if small) landing area (though no lean-to shelter this time). It was once again my turn to make dinner - my home-made dehydrated vegetarian black bean and quinoa (and onion) chili, topped with cheesy goop made from Rob's dehydrated jalapeño cheese powder.
Lower Saranac Lake, being more developed, is noisier than we had gotten used to on Middle. We would hear boats from time to time, and at night I could hear traffic in the distance. Still, I slept well my nights there.
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| This bag of crusty brown bupkes successfully reconstituted into delicious chili! |
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| Second Campsite |
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| New York State wants to make sure you know that the outhouse isn't cleaned daily |
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| Need to get the outhouse picture out of your head? Here's a pretty one of morning mist on the lake |
About 5 miles kayakingFriday
Friday was something of a repeat of our Middle Saranac exploration. We set out to explore Lower Saranac Lake, using the goal of visiting all the campsites as something of a game to motivate us and guide our route. Having entered the lake at its southernmost point we headed north to new territory. To make a long story short, we determined the following campsites to be the best for kayaks: 42 (which has a large beach, but is said to be very popular - hard to get), 36, 49 (where we stayed), and 59. In addition, we noted that Site 9 has the best view from the privy of any of the sites. Some of this information was confirmed by a guy we spotted relaxing in a folding chair in the water. He seemed to have a good knowledge of the lake's campsites and said the one he was at had the best sunset views. Actually, he technically was camped in a site adjacent to the one with the best views, since the good view campsite had been shut down by the authorities, so he reserves an immediately adjacent site and makes use of the good view one.
While Middle Saranac Lake is almost completely undeveloped, Lower Saranac has large sections where the shoreline is private, so as we paddled we got to look at the various lake houses, which ranged from cabins up to "Wow!"-sized estate homes. A fella can dream, right? At the top of the lake we paddled into Ampersand Bay (I don't know why the name "Ampersand" is so popular in this area), where we took a lunch break at the public launch. I had packed some of the previous evening's leftover chili into a Thermos, and I ate it for lunch with some trepidation that unrefrigerated it might have spoiled overnight. I'm happy to report I suffered no ill effects from this culinary risk-taking (overnight temps down into the 40's probably helped retard spoilage).
Back at camp we were able to make a fire from wood we had once again scavenged from campsites. On our way into Lower Lake the previous day we had passed a campsite (Site 29) which seemed to have a significant amount of wood stacked on the picnic table. Unfortunately, with loaded boats we had no way to carry it and we never made it back to that site to pick it up. That's too bad, because unbeknownst to us some friends of ours were also kayaking the Saranacs that week and if we had returned to Site 29 we would have run into them, since when they arrived on Long Lake the day after we did they made camp at that site!
Tom provided dinner: pasta with meatballs/sauce out of a bag, with freshly shaved parmesan cheese (I'm pretty sure the sauce had onions in it). Lesson-learned: tomato sauce is not a good choice on camping trips, as it's really hard to wash out of dishes. Fortunately, this was the last night we were cooking in camp so when I did the dishes (my turn again) I didn't have to worry about getting our cooking gear sparkling clean.
Oh, one additional thing: the Jewish holiday of Rosh Hashonah began Friday night. The lunar Jewish calendar slides around relative to the Gregorian calendar, and every once in a while Rosh Hashonah, one of the holiest days of the Jewish year, falls within the period of our trip. There are different ways of finding closeness with G-d, or whatever you choose to call him/her/they/it. A kayaker friend who is a Pentacostal Minister (!) and I once discussed feeling the divine in the outdoors, and he told me about different "sacred pathways" - he pointed me to a (Christian) reference that described nine sacred pathways, two of which are Traditionalists (Loving G-d through ritual and symbol - what I would have been doing by attending synagogue services back home), and Naturalists (Loving G-d outdoors). Similar ideas appear within Judaism as well: 18th Century Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, recognizing the holiness of nature, recommended a practice of spontaneous unscripted prayer in the wilderness, and the Medieval Jewish Kabbalist mystics believed that there was a flow of divine energy, the shefa (שפע), which ultimately manifested itself in the physical world. Much like a wet PFD which is a lifejacket but which also contains water throughout, everything we experience in the world around us is infused with a divine energy from the shefa, known as the shechinah (שְׁכִינָה). Closer to the present day, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, a 20th century Jewish philosopher (and civil rights activist - he marched with Martin Luther King!), stated that the path to "faith" is via "awe", and that "awe" can be achieved via "wonder" and "radical amazement" - including amazement at the natural world - rivers, flowers, forests, mountains, and such. All of which is to say that I felt I had sufficient philosophical cover to skip services and observe Rosh Hashonah via the "wonder" of nature, immersed in the natural world. In the midst of sensing the divine energy I did also engage in prayer, having brought along a copy of a Rosh Hashonah machzor (prayerbook) on my phone. I read through the evening service while sitting at the campfire, and in doing so experienced a closeness with the divine perhaps beyond what I would have felt in synagogue. Except maybe for the part of the evening I spent scrubbing tomato sauce out of the pots. There is no divine presence in greasy dishes.
Also, after Rob and Tom went to bed I shaved for the first time since the beginning of the trip - cleaning up a little seemed appropriate for the holiday, plus I must admit I was driven a little by vanity since I knew we were going into town the next day.
Oh, and one additional additional thing: all day Rob was receiving pictures from his son's wedding, which he enthusiastically shared with Tom and me. It might seem strange that Rob was with us rather than at the ceremony, but this is one of those complicated situations with multiple religions, multiple locations, and multiple families, with not every piece of the family present at every step along the way - Rob will have plenty of opportunity to participate in other facets of what will be a rolling multi-dimensional series of wedding events (my brother had similar complications with his wedding forty years ago - some things never change).
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| Another shot of doing dishes, or a Bigfoot sighting? You decide |
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| Pretty light on the lake |
10.5 miles kayaked
Saturday
Saturday was our final full day of the trip, and we decided to make it a big one, with a long paddle through First and Second Ponds and up through Oseetah and Flower Lakes (and through another lock, this one operated by park staff) to the town of Saranac Lake, where we would have the luxury of another restaurant meal. This was going to be our longest day, about 16 miles total, albeit with a long lunch break in the middle.
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| The three of us on the water |
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| I get to go in a lock, since this one had an operator |
The paddle up through the ponds and the lakes was much like the prior day, kept interesting by ever changing scenery - sometimes a narrow river, sometimes open and undeveloped, sometimes peppered with cool Adirondack-style homes. We were fighting a headwind all the way north, which slowed me down, keeping me somewhat behind Rob and Tom. Much like my slowness going uphill on a bike, I think my skinny little body just doesn't generate the horsepower (or is it torque?) to fully overcome obstacles like headwinds or hills. Over lunch I mentioned how I had found the wind challenging. I was really hoping we'd slow down a little bit on the way back, but didn't want to suffer the embarrassment of explicitly asking the group to slow down, so I kind of hinted around about it ("gee, we're ahead of schedule - no need to rush on the way back!"). Rob, to his credit, recognized that in my comments I was fishing for something; however he incorrectly concluded that what I was looking was to have my ego assuaged for having been at the back of the pack all day. He reassured me that there were plenty of times when he struggled to keep up. I've paddled with Rob enough to know that this is patently untrue, but it was nice of him to fib in an attempt to make me feel better. I also suspect Tom slows down for me, given that when we paddle together he spends a lot of time coasting - or maybe he's just a paddle hard/rest/paddle hard/rest kind of guy. It used to be better when we had one or two women in the group who, like me, had shorter, slower kayaks, and who (also like me) paddled like girls.
In any case, we didn't wind up taking any more of a relaxed pace on the way home but it was fine; the twisty river was a great speed equalizer and I got back just a little behind the others.
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| Getting to town in Saranac Lake |
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| Relaxing in civilization |
Upon reaching the town of Saranac Lake we landed at the lakefront park, changed clothes and locked our kayaks to the parking lot barriers. Our first stop was the nearby Saranac Lake farmers' market, where we browsed the surprisingly good-looking (for up north in September) veggies, and craft items including expensive rustic furniture. My hands had been really dry so I bought a little tub of fir-scented hand cream (it's pretty good hand cream - I think it's got onions in it). Then we went to lunch at Nona, a lakefront Italian restaurant. We sat outside, which gave us a pleasant view and spared the other diners the full force of our unwashed odor. It had been my intention to order pizza, but when I saw they had eggplant parmigiana heroes on the menu, I couldn't resist. I ordered the large (12") size, figuring I'd eat maybe a little more than half - but I wound up inhaling the whole thing. It had been our intention to bring a takeout dinner back to camp (likely more sandwiches) - but we all ate so much at lunch that we couldn't envision needing another full meal and, given that it was our last night, figured we'd just nosh on whatever foodstuffs each of us had left at camp.
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| Locking up the kayaks in town |
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| Farmers Market |
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Veggies!
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| Someone taking wedding photos on shore! |
After lunch we stopped into the lakefront mini-mart where we bought a bundle of firewood, which we distributed among the three kayaks for the trip back, and I got a Pepsi (boo, no Coke products available but yay, caffeine!). Then we paddled back home.
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| Back to camp through the lower lock - shared with two guys in vintage motorboats |
In the evening we had a nice fire with our kiln-dried store-bought wood, and as planned, noshed on our leftover food - my delicious dinner was PB&J on week-old lavash bread, wasabi-flavored edamame, chocolate, and wine. It was a beautiful evening with stars reflecting off the glassy lake surface and the sounds of loons in the distance; on such a nice evening, we hated to start breaking camp.
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| Evening in camp |
15.5 miles kayaked
Sunday
Sunday we broke camp for the last time and headed back through the Saranac River (this time we shared the lock with a pontoon boat), then through Middle Saranac Lake to our cars. As is his wont, Tom took off immediately after loading up. Rob and I stopped in town and got breakfast (the restaurant had breakfast platters called "Upper Lox" and "Lower Lox") and poked our heads into the
Hamlets to Huts store, where they guy behind the counter immediately asked us, "how long have you been out?" Somehow he knew we'd been camping - not sure whether what tipped him off was our disheveled appearance or ripe smell.
Overall, another great paddling adventure.
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| Back through the Upper Lock |
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Back at the launch
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| So much gear to unload! |
6.2 miles kayaked
A few additional notes can be found
here.
