They call it "Toronno"

[Read about the first part of this trip here.]

Americans know that Canadians talk funny. On the fifth day of our trip I started the day with a run along the falls (drier than my previous day's walk, thanks to less wind), then we headed out towards Toronto, and in the car we practiced saying "tuh-RON-nuh" rather than "tuh-RON-toe", since that is the way the locals say it. 

Along the way we stopped in Niagara-on-the-Lake, a quaint 19th century town with cute shops and restaurants - think Old Town Alexandria, but a little more spread out. The area around Niagara-on-the-Lake is well known for its wineries, but we didn't visit any, as I long ago learned not to take Valerie, who isn't a wine drinker, wine-tasting (that's a story in itself). Instead, we had a good time browsing the shops in town. I even bought a cool shirt - the kind of thing I'd wear to a gig We had a lovely lunch, then got back into the car to continue on to tuh-RON-nuh.

Our son David's partner's parents are Torontonians (yes, this is the right term - I looked it up). They met us for dinner at a hip, upscale restaurant in the downtown TIFF Lightbox building, home to the Toronto International Film Festival. Don't tell anyone, but I thought the food was just OK. The appetizer and dessert were quite good, but the main course was lackluster - a very fishy-tasting Canadian trout on a few pearls of couscous. Valerie felt the same way about her dinner. The company, though, was wonderful, and we lingered so long we basically closed the place down. This is only the second time we'd met Doug and Kate, but we share a bond via our children and have really hit it off.

The next morning Valerie figured out the Toronto mass transit system, which can involve hopping between subways and streetcars, and went with Kate to explore another art museum. Of course, the day also included shopping for craft supplies (Kate is an accomplished artist and was understanding of Valerie's arts & crafts shopping). While they did that, I hopped bikeshare bikes to several places around the city. First, because my main destination wasn't open yet, I previewed the Distillery District, which we'd be visiting together the next day, then I headed to the waterfront where I rented a kayak and paddled out to the Toronto Islands, a small set of barrier islands just off of the city. The good news is that their kayaks were better than the typical rental boats, but they put me in a Tsunami 145, which is meant for big boys - you could have fit two of me in it. Unable to brace very well inside this bathtub of a boat, I wound up relying on the rudder to steer. Still, I had a good time paddling my way across a busy waterway watching ferries and water taxies heading to and from the islands and planes taking off from Toronto's downtown airport (which seemed to service mostly smaller, regional propeller planes and general aviation). Unfortunately, in my haste to get underway I had forgotten to take my water bottle out of my backpack before sticking it into the hatch, so I had no access to water to drink. It was a hot day and I headed back when I started to get parched, which meant I wound up being out a little short of my allotted two hours of rental time. I'll note that with this outing I added Lake Ontario to my list of Great Lakes paddled (still to do: Lakes Michigan and Erie).

Bikeshare bikes and bike lanes (Toronto has good cycling infrastructure!)

Toronto as seen from a kayak

Exploring within the Toronto Islands

After kayaking I hopped another bikeshare bike back to the hotel (I would have taken a taxi or streetcar but I was dripping wet) and had just about enough time to shower and change before heading out by bike again to meet Valerie, Doug, and Kate at The Rex, a downtown jazz club. We were there for the club's early show, which featured a group of young musicians playing trad jazz, led by "Trombone Charlotte", a vocalist and trombone player who was very talented musically as well as being a very engaging performer. Even non-jazz-fan Valerie enjoyed the show. I'm happy to report that the club, a suitably divey jazz bar, was nearly full, even for a 5 PM show featuring young local talent. I ordered dinner there, a tofu sandwich which turned out to be just that - a slab of tofu on a bun. Somehow, it was actually pretty tasty. After the show Doug and Kate pointed us in the right direction, and thanks ton Valerie's knowledge of the mass transit system we made it home to our hotel with no issues.

Charlotte McAfee-Brunner and her band at The Rex

Saturday morning we walked over to the St. Lawrence Market, a bustling traditional food hall marketplace. DC doesn't really have anything equivalent - I guess Eastern Market would be the closest thing, but St. Lawrence is much bigger and has a broader variety of groceries, prepared food, restaurants, kitchen items, and so on. We love that sort of place, and had a really good time there. There was a store with bulk food where I bought soy nuts (crunchy roasted soy beans - for a while these were a health food staple, but they've kind of disappeared in the U.S.), while Valerie bought a variety of chocolates. 

Then we went over to the Distillery District, a collection of buildings which had started life as the Gooderham and Worts Distillery, but which now is a trendy SoHo-like collection of shops - looking back, it's funny how much of our trip was spent at places which could be described as "19th century something-or-other now transformed into 21st century coolness". As mentioned above I had been unimpressed when I visited the place the previous day, but it turns out it's much more alive on a Saturday afternoon than Friday morning. There was a band playing in a big courtyard outfitted with inflatable sofas. The shops were humming. Valerie got some top-notch ice cream (I was still recovering my my Sweet Jesus treat in Niagara, but I took a taste of hers) and I had so enjoyed the curried vegetable tart I had gotten a bakery the previous day that I got the same thing again.   

Checking out the band at the Distillery District

After a quick nap back at the hotel (hey, we're old), we caught some good Thai food for dinner then took the subway to the streetcar to the ferry which took us out to the Toronto Islands, where were catching a Grateful Dead tribute band at the marina bar. I didn't know exactly how to get to the bar from the ferry terminal, but fortunately Deadheads are easy to spot and we befriended a tie-dye wearing guy named Joe, who showed us the way. The band was pretty good, and the vibe was excellent. Marina bar with a view across to the Toronto skyline. Warm summer evening (but not DC hot!). A big crowd of people, all digging the music. Joe introduced us around a little (people tend to know one another in Deadhead communities), plus I chatted with some other people (Canadians are friendly).

Let me tell you something I heard from a lot of people in Canada, including otherwise mellow Deadheads - they're really pissed at the U.S. Trump's annexing Canada/51st state schtick has been very poorly received by Canadians, and multiple people told me they're avoiding travel to the U.S., and boycotting American products. More than one suggested we escape America and come live in Canada. Of course, Canada isn't perfect either.

Ferry - that's Joe dead center wearing the hippie hat

Cherry Garcia Band (start of the show - later on it got much more crowded!)

City view from the marina

We had discovered on our way to the islands that the ferry schedule was pretty loose - the 7:40 ferry didn't depart until around 8 PM. One the way back, after comically stumbling from the marina to the ferry terminal in complete darkness, we arrived early for the 10:20 ferry, but it turned out there was a 10 PM ferry which wasn't even listed on the schedule. We walked right on, then took a taxi from the ferry terminal back to our hotel.  

By our last full day we were tired of touring and decided to take it easy. I ate breakfast and worked out on an elliptical machine, then when Valerie woke up I went down with her and ate breakfast for a second time, and we played a few hands of canasta in the breakfast room. When we finally got moving we didn't go far, just directly across the street to the Allan Gardens Conservatory, yet another 19th century building housing an indoor botanical garden. I wasn't expecting much but the place turned out to be lovely, well kept, well landscaped, and stuffed with all kinds of pretty plants. We also returned to St. Lawrence market to pick up flowers to bring to our dinner engagement. While we were there we also bought more soy nuts and chocolates, since we liked them so much and they were a good deal.

Allan Gardens

Central hall of Allan Gardens

At Allan Gardens

That evening Doug and Kate had us over for dinner. They live in a residential neighborhood of the city about five miles (oops, 8 km) outside of downtown. That's pretty analogous to where we live (about 6 miles from downtown), though their neighborhood is a little more urban. It feels kind of like my first neighborhood in Brooklyn, with brick houses packed close together, separated by impractically narrow driveways. Actually, their house reminds me a lot of my friend Asapearl's house - similar layout, and likewise decorated with an artist's eye for style.

With Kate and Doug

We had a lovely evening together. Then, in the morning Valerie and I headed out for the long drive home. We crossed the border without incident, and a mere 10 hours later we were home!

CPA Belle Isle Camping Trip

 I haven't been on a CPA multi-day trip in a while. There aren't that many trips anymore, and they always seem to fall at times when I'm already committed. Well, I finally made it to a trip. Ralph and Sophie planned at trip which involved three nights camping at Belle Isle State Park on the Rappahannock River in Virginia, then another three nights about twenty miles up the Rappahannock at Naylor's Beach Campground. My plan was to join them for the weekday part at Belle Isle, but I would be heading home when they moved to Naylor's

Tuesday
The sites at Belle Isle have electricity, and believe me, I took full advantage. I have a brand new cooler-sized car refrigerator which I was able to plug in it the campsite. As it happened, the freezer at the camp store was broken and so people who were relying on coolers to keep their perishables cold had to leave the campground to replenish their ice supply - but no matter to me, I had a fridge! I also brought a string of Christmas lights to illuminate my campsite in the evening, an electric fan for my tent, and a folding electric kettle, which made breakfasts a snap. And since we're on the subject of camp amenities, I brought along a tri-fold mattress to sleep on. This is basically a three inch thick twin-sized mattress which folds in thirds. It's definitely not something you bring if you're at all squeezed for space (it's maybe 30 x 30 x 9" when folded), but I had room in the car for it, so I brought it. It was easy to set up (just unfold it) and mighty comfy to sleep on. More and more of my camping trips seem to lean towards "glamping" - I guess that's what happens as you get older.

My awesome little fridge (stinky neoprene boots for scale)

Campsite illuminated at night

Folding kettle

On the first day we all arrived at different times, so there was no group paddle. Ralph had, however, provided suggestions for local paddles. After taking a call at the launch about an upcoming gig (playing at Grateful Dead Night at the Bowie Baysox!), I explored the local creek and poked out into the river a little bit, paddling a little under five miles in all. A couple of people had launched earlier and explored further - out into the river and up the adjacent Lancaster Creek, but I didn't feel like paddling that far.

En route to the park I had stopped for lunch at Chipotle, but I only ate half my burrito bowl. The leftovers, which I of course had stored in my adorbale mini-fridge, served as the core of my dinner.   

In the evening some of us gathered around a campfire at Sophie and Jessica's campsite. Yes, in June in Virginia it was cool enough in the evening to have a campfire. It was really pretty perfect weather. It was at the campfire that I first met Peter, who turned out to be a memorable dude.

The morning of the second day I ran into Peter in the bathhouse. I wasn't sure it was him since I had only seen him in the dark, but also I may have had trouble recognizing him since I was distracted by the fact that he was naked from the waist down. I guess he hadn't counted on the possibility of someone else walking into the bathhouse while he was in there (or he didn't care) but there he was brushing his teeth at the sink, dressed in a blue t-shirt, bright yellow Crocs, and nothing else. If you put a sailor hat on him he would have been a dead ringer for Donald Duck. To Peter's credit, once I arrived he grabbed his pants and disappeared into a stall to get dressed. 

Welcome to the campground bathhouse!

Wednesday

We all met bright and early at Windmill Point on Fleet's Island. This is a really nice, recently developed launch. According to Ralph, until recently it was basically a dirt road which ended at the water, but the county has developed it as a recreational facility with a sandy swimming beach (which also serves as the car-top launch), lovely bathroom, and plentiful parking. Sweet.

One of the paddlers in the group discovered that she had left her PFD and skirt back in camp, which was about 40 minutes away. Ralph was ready to bend the rules and let her paddle without a PFD, which is mind-blowing if you are familiar with the safety-obsessed culture of CPA; however, another member of the group saved the day by running home (just ten minutes away) to grab her a PFD, which turned out to be one of those big orange Type II's you see on ferry boats - an appropriate paddler "cone of shame".

Oh, and Donald Duck showed up, wearing a keffiyeh wrapped around his head and face for sun protection. Now, go back a couple of years, say, to October 6th, 2023, and I really wouldn't have batted an eye over someone showing up with Arab headgear for a paddle - I mean, heck, people in the Middle East do know a thing or two about covering up to be sun-safe. However, in the years since the Hamas attack on Israel on October 7th, 2023, the keffiyeh has been transformed into a pro-Palestinian (ok) / anti-Israel (bad) / pro-Hamas (pretty damn bad) and even antisemitic (really, really bad) political symbol. College kids who couldn't find Ramallah on a map drape themselves in keffiyehs to symbolize their support for the destruction of the Jewish homeland and its people. Now, in Donald Duck's defense, his keffiyeh was red and white, which is usually Jordanian rather than the black and white typically associated with Palestinians, and a look at his Facebook page shows no antizionist content whatsoever. In addition, he seems to be involved in re-enactments of 19th century European battles from the era when soldiers wore giant hats and plumes into battle, so I think for him wearing it was mostly a dress-up thing. But it bugged me to look at it every day. And the red keffiyeh clashed with his yellow Crocs. But at least he was wearing pants. 

Anyway, Fleet's Island (named after 17th century English settler Henry Fleet) sits just at the mouth of the Rappahannock. Our paddle took us up the outside of the island, which meant that we were paddling in the Chesapeake Bay. Windmill Point is at the bottom of the island and we paddled all the way around the top, where we took a lunch break at Cedars Beach. We could have continued and circumnavigated the island, but those who have done it said the inside of the island is hot and boring, so we made our way through some marshland at the top of the island and scooched our kayaks back onto the Rappahannock via a shallow cut which wasn't quite deep enough to float the kayaks. I was close enough to being afloat to be able to slide my kayak along by pushing my hands along the bottom; some of the group, that is, those endowed with heavier butts, had to get out of their boats to make it through. Once back on the river we retraced our steps to the launch, at which point some of us (including me) got off the water, while others got some extra mileage in exploring a little bit beyond the launch before heading in. I paddled about 8-9 miles.

Paddling around Fleet's Island

Scooching across from the marsh into the river

Lunch break (check out keffiyeh boy ibn the middle)

After the paddle there was a plan for the group to go out for an early dinner (4:30ish!) at a restaurant in White Stone called The Sand Piper. Based on a combination of health and religious-driven dietary restrictions, I don't do well at seafood restaurants, as I don't eat shellfish, beef, or pork. Typically, such restaurants have one or two dishes with either fin fish or chicken, but such dishes usually tend to be pretty sad. I mean, virtually no one goes to a seafood restaurant to eat chicken, so whatever chicken breast they have is some antique, freezer-burned thing they'll defrost for the rare non-seafood eater who comes in. I decided to skip the group dinner and head back to camp, where I enjoyed the home-made low sodium minestrone and fresh roll I had brought from home. There wasn't much hanging around that night, but that was OK - I read my book and had a beer at my campsite.

Sand Piper menu with all the things I can't eat crossed out

Thursday

Thursday's forecast called for high winds, so we headed for the relatively protected waters of the upper Great Wicomico River, launching from Cooper's Wharf. This isn't one of Ralph's favorite paddles, given the the Great Wicomico is entirely developed, that is, the shoreline is dotted with houses, but it made for a safe paddle on a blustery day. And blustery it was. We headed downriver first, with the wind at our backs. That meant we had to be careful, since the return trip was going to be more of a slog than the outbound leg.

The trip was uneventful We paddled down as far as the big Rt. 200 bridge over the river. Sophie and Jessica continued on to try and find a launch they thought existed somewhere near the bridge (they found it!) while the rest of us turned back. The paddle back wasn't as bad as I thought it might be -  keeping to the river's south shore gave us some protection from the south-westerly wind, though we did hit spots where we got blown about by the gusts.

Taking aa break from the wind in a cove

Given that the shoreline was all private land, our only choice for a lunch break was to paddle back to our launch point and take a break there. After lunch a few of us explored in the opposite, up-river direction for an hour or so. This section of the river turned out to be more remote and pretty, but it didn't go on very far. I paddled a total of 11 miles.

My plan had been to camp Thursday night at Belle Isle and to head home in the morning when the group broke camp. A forecast of rain overnight made me change my plans, as there was really no point in camping in the rain just to go home the next morning with wet gear, so I broke camp and headed home Thursday night.

The group had a scheduled potluck Thursday night, and I felt very antisocial when I stopped by to say goodbye. The previous night I had blown off dinner at the seafood shack, and here I was snubbing the potluck. Oh, well.

It had been a long time since I'd done a trip like this and it felt good to get out paddling in pretty places three days in a row, and to sleep in a tent on some lovely, not to hot or humid nights.

Also note that Thursday was the 27th anniversary of the day I bought my first kayak!

PoG Staggers to Life

 My great-grandfather was said to have a particular knack for getting into and out of businesses at the wrong time. For example, shortly after the turn of the 20th Century he moved his family to New York City where he bought a pushcart rental business. In the late 19th Century, the streets of New York teemed with pushcarts from which vendors sold food, clothes, and other merchandise. Akin to food trucks today, it was a way for people with little investment capital (typically immigrants) to get a retail business started. My great-grandfather's business was a step up the food chain. Rather than selling stuff from a cart, he rented carts to the pushcart vendors, which was a pretty good deal in that he got to profit without having to handle inventory and spend all day hawking merchandise. The problem was that by the time he bought that business, New Yorkers were getting tired of the congestion and mess caused by endless swarms of pushcarts,. Responding to citizen pressure, in 1906 the city cracked down and put stricter regulations in place, leading to a shift away from pushcarts and into indoor, flea-market-like markets (I imagine whomever sold the business to my great-grandfather had seen this shift coming). I picture the demand for pushcarts dropping off day by day, with rentals slowing to a trickle, until one day no renters showed up at all, and there was my Grandpa Ike, left sitting all alone in his warehouse full of pushcarts.

Which is how I've been feeling about the Pirates of Georgetown (PoG) lately. I started paddling with the group right when it formed during the waning years of the Clinton presidency (!), and in those early years attendance was quite robust; on any given week it wasn't unusual for the group to draw a dozen or more paddlers. When we were forced to decamp from Georgetown to our present digs at Columbia Island the group lost some energy, and then the pandemic took a further toll. Last year I lost my two co-leaders to illness, and attendance dropped to where the group would be maybe three people.

PoG in a busier era (2002) - check out Nelson and Caroline, Yvonne, Cyndi, David M., James, as well as Barb, designer of the CPA logo

This year we got off to a very slow start. First of all, we've lost the natural feeder or SK102. Our weekly paddles have historically started up the week after the big SK102 training weekend in the spring, and we've usually picked up some enthusiastic new paddlers from that event. However, last year SK102 didn't happen, and this year it was changed to a one day event in June. 

Then, the weather didn't cooperate. Our first Thursday was a chilly evening in May, and only one person showed up. Interestingly, when I asked him what was new he told me that he had gotten married four days earlier. OK, PoG is fun, but it's not what I'd choose for my honeymoon (it turns out that the new wife is a teacher, and they'd be taking their honeymoon after the end of the school year - a scheduling constraint I know well). Following that we had a rainout week. Then there were a couple more unseasonably cool weeks where either one or two people showed up. 

So I was quite happy this past Thursday when I actually got six people out on the water! All of the people who had trickled in over the preceding weeks (Hunter, David, Jeff), an old-timer who still shows up when he's in town (Al), and me. Oh, and Rob even showed up! He's recovered from what kept him off the water last year but his time is now swallowed up by a packed travel schedule. This was his one week in town until late July. Fingers crossed that these people keep coming back. Plus, by happenstance I ran into Steve J. at a restaurant the other day and encouraged him to come out too - so maybe we're back in business. 

Needless to say, as soon as I get some momentum going I'm going to have to pause for a week, as I'll be off at Ralph's Rappahannock camper (where I expect to have the opportunity to cajole another of our former regulars, Karen, into showing up), and it remains to be seen what restrictions lie ahead as we get close to July 4th. My understanding is that they'll be anchoring barges in the river for the planned massive fireworks show planned for the 4th and that there'll be restrictions on river traffic around the holiday weekend, but no specifics have been published so far. I hope that doesn't mean more weeks of coancellations.

In any case, I'm happy that people are returning and I'll be thrilled if I can get routinely get even 3-4 paddlers (including me). If I do the group might even resume hanging around for chatting and beverages after paddling.

Special note to CPA Leadership: Ignore that "3-4 people" remark. For the purposes of computing our piracy stipend, our attendance averages 10 people per week 😉. 

PG paddlers pass the Lincoln Memorial this past Thursday

Saranac Lakes 2025 - Part III

This is Part III of a trip diary which starts here.

Day 6: Thursday 9/11 

Wednesday night was the only night of the trip I had any trouble sleeping, so Thursday morning I was happy to stay in bed for a while reading and continuing to watch the Billy Joel documentary (which is interesting, but really long!). 

Jen, Béla, and I paddled the perimeter of Middle Saranac Lake, including poking down into the creek in the southwest corner of the lake to find Bartlett Carry, a portage trail which is the only way to connect between Middle and Upper Saranac lakes. We had done this portage in 2016 when we did a trip traversing the Saranac Lakes. In the process we managed to destroy one of our kayak carts and generally wear ourselves out. This time around we were smart enough to not even get out of our boats. I will say as an aside that this is my second trip in a row to the Saranacs where I never made it into Upper Saranac Lake, which is too bad - there's some beautiful paddling there, especially around Follensby Clear Pond and Fish Creek. Next time ...

Impressive beaver dam near Bartlett Carry. Beavers are very industrious

Lunch spot on Middle Saranac Lake

Lunch break 

Upon our return it was interesting to note that no camp craft had been accomplished - for example, no water had been filtered and no wood had been cut. Tall Tom is usually Mr. camp craft, as industrious as any beaver, and his lack of activity around camp was evidence that he was feeling a little under the weather this trip. But he roused himself for some amazing cooking later in the day! It was my turn to make dinner. In planning my dinner recipes for our trips, by my second meal I'm usually doing some backpacker-like recipe, which in this case was a dehydrated vegetarian coconut curry. However once again my appetizer (dehydrated hummus) and dessert (Halloween candy and weird dehydrated cookie dough bites from Walmart) left something to be desired. I was saved in the appetizer department when Tom dug various leftovers from previous nights out of the coolers - three types of cheese, hummus (not the dehydrated kind!) and crackers, etc. But the pièce de résistance was Tom's peach cobbler dessert, built around peach pie filling from Tom's friend Pam. I've never met Pam but based on the volume of her home canning output I picture her as some kind of holdover from 19th Century, perhaps attired in a hoop skirt. 

Anyway, the recipe involved spreading the peach pie filling along the bottom of a dutch oven (yes, another of our campsite luxuries this trip was a big cast iron dutch oven), covering it with layer of those instant bake-it-yourself biscuits from a tube, and then letting it bake in the campfire. Hot and bubbly out of the fire it was really good!

Peach cobbler dessert

Enjoying our peach cobbler

Post-cobbler chilling by the fire

By this point, despite our abundance, we were starting to feel the pinch of the end of our trip. We were out of ice, so our coolers were not really keeping things very cold anymore. The gauge on our cooking gas tank was starting to go down. We had burned through a bunch of the firewood. Clearly, the end of the trip was approaching.

Day 7: Friday 9/12 

About this time we started to think about cutting the trip a day short. Our plan had been for our usual seven nights of camping, but a variety of factors were leading us to consider trimming a night. I had a music world commitment I wanted to honor on Sunday. Back home, Béla's wife had suffered an injury. In addition there was a chance of rain in the forecast for Saturday, and I suspect Tall Tom was getting frustrated by his lack of ability to do much activity.

Typically every single day of the trip I eat a breakfast of grits with various mix-ins: protein powder, powdered milk, peanut powder, and/or trail mix. Our bagel breakfasts on this trip had already offered a break from this monotony. On Friday, our last full day in camp, I dug out the remainder of my granola (something I brought as a snack, not as a meal) and a box of shelf stable milk I had nabbed from the Best Western and had a bowl of granola and milk for breakfast. That may not seem like something worth writing about, but (a) I love breakfast cereal and these camping trips are among the rare occasions when I don't eat at least one bowl of cereal over the course of a day, and (b) I certainly never allow myself the sugary indulgence of granola. It was a treat! Oh, and I even used a disposable bowl so I didn't have any cleanup after breakfast (Béla washes all our dinner dishes in lieu of cooking, but we're each on our own for clean-up for our other meals).

Jen wanted a leisurely day in camp to read and sketch, so Béla and I set out to go back up into Lower Saranac Lake, this time exploring north into the lake itself rather than east into the ponds. I know, another day of "we kayaked, we ate lunch, we kayaked back." But every day has its unique treats, which on Friday included seeing a bear! Béla spotted it first as we were paddling back through the Saranac River. Sure enough, a black bear was watching us from the bank of the river, maybe sixty feet away. While bears are excellent swimmers, the land/water barrier provided at least psychological distance between us. I managed to get a picture before the bear turned and lumbered off into the tall grass. This was very, very cool and was in fact the best bear sighting I've ever had in the wild. I barely even saw bears in Alaska, save for the one I ran across walking the streets of downtown Juneau.

Bear!

Along the way we also saw the campsites of an apparently large group from the Hackensack River Canoe and Kayak Club, which each was marked with a large "HRCKC" banner. Given the context Béla and I figured out that the acronym probably stood for Something Something Canoe and Kayak Club, but didn't know what "HR" stood for until we Googled it later.

We also crossed paths several times with a fisherman in a powerboat whose dog was having a great time standing up in the bow, nose to the wind like a ship's figurehead. Very cute. The cool nights had caused the fall colors to start to pop, and the sun shining through the bright red of the maples would have made our trip back through the Saranac River spectacular even had we not seen the bear!

I must confess that while I love working the Saranac locks, in both directions the lock was in use by a powerboat so Béla and I simply carried our kayaks from one side of the lock to the other rather than waiting.

A fisherman's dog enjoying the day

Fall colors popping

Once we decided we were leaving on Saturday logistics dictated that it would make sense to bring one of the kayaks back on Friday, so I paddled back to South Creek and put my kayak back on my car. The motorboat followed and brought me back to camp.

Returning to South Creek

I feel like every year the writeup of this trip includes an explanation of some arcane aspect of Judaism. This year's topic concerns marking the anniversary of a loved one's death. Every year on the yahrtzeit, or anniversary of a close family member's death you light a candle and say a prayer known as kaddish. The catch is that kaddish is among the prayers which can only be said if there's a quorum of ten people, so the practice in at least Reform synagogues is to say kaddish for the week's yahrtzeits when people gather at Friday night services. This year the anniversary of my mother's passing fell within our trip week. My synagogue live streams services, and with our good connectivity I was able to remotely hear my mother's name mentioned and join in saying the kaddish prayer with the congregation. It was actually quite lovely to do this while watching the sun set over the lake. I did bring a yahrtzeit candle with me on the trip but opted not to light it - the things burn for 24 hours, which I figured might not be safe in camp. 

Yahrtzeit sunset

When I returned to the group I found another of Tom's cooking experiments well under way - skillet cornbread. I was still kind of full from Tom's yummy dinner of chicken, vegetables, and rice, but I can't resist cornbread. The bread was a little burned on the bottom, campfire style, but was quite tasty! Another of my luxuries was that I had brought along a few cans of caffeine-free Coke Zero. Given that it was our last night, I drank my final can. I must say that I had felt like a real goober bringing soda on a backcountry camping trip, but it turned out that Tom and Béla brought soda too.

Usually, when I call Valerie in the evening I wander off from camp into the woods to get some privacy, but having seen the bear not all that far from camp earlier in the day, I stayed a little closer to camp than usual. I am the subject of some teasing from the others because I bring a can of bear repellant spray (basically pepper spray in a can the size of a small fire extinguisher) with me on these trips, but I slept better that night knowing I had it nearby.

No bears in camp, but apparently a raccoon spent some time in my camp chair

Day 8: Saturday 9/13 

On Saturday we packed up our gear and, as is typical for this group, were ready to go 30 minutes ahead of our planned departure time. Let me say, we brought a lot of stuff! Enough to fill the motorboat pretty well. Thank goodness Jen had packed a bunch of her stuff into her kayak. Tom and I took the motorboat back to the marina. The others paddled back to South Creek where they loaded their kayaks and gear onto their cars and then met us at the marina. It had been Tom's idea to just meet back at the marina, and it worked well. When Jen and Béla arrived we had just finished unloading the gear, which we had stacked into four piles by owner (nonetheless, a few items wound up in the wrong cars).

Guiding the gear boat home

We said our goodbyes with a big hug, then each went our separate ways. It had been really good to spend some time with Jen, who we don't get to see very often since she moved away, and it was good for Tall Tom to get out on a little bit of an adventure.

I got on the road a bit later than the rest due to a pre-drive bathroom break. Well, that and because I made stop at a Stewart's to pick up a vanilla milkshake and a cup of coffee, as I have found that a combination of caffeine and sugar can keep me alert behind the wheel for many hours. Tom was still sharing his location from his phone so it was interesting to track that even though the two cars didn't communicate or coordinate our stops in any way, we remained about 20 minutes apart all the way to Delaware, where I stopped for dinner (a $15 tuna sandwich, which complemented the $7 Diet Coke I had purchased at an earlier gas stop - literal highway robbery) at the Joe Biden rest area before launching into the busy final stretch of roadway through the Baltimore to Washington region.

Lessons Learned 

There wasn't too much novel camp craft on this trip. I will say that I bring way too much food. I'm always nervous about running out of food, so I bring a zillion energy bars, bags of snacks, etc. On this trip matters were made worse because I packed for a typical trip, then added extra fresh food because we could. For example, I packed eight breakfasts, then in addition I bought bagels which served for two breakfasts, plus since I had a cooler at the last minute I bought a couple of yogurts which served as breakfast for another couple of days. Likewise, I had packed assuming our traditional high caloric consumption of full days of paddling. Still, I always bring too much food. 

I had all this food left over at the end of the trip

Since Rob wasn't part of the trip (we missed him!) I did pick up a few items to cover for some of the things he usually brings. His bag of tricks in his bottomless boat includes all kinds of fasteners and lights. I picked up a bag of small spring clips, which served well for hanging stuff on the clothes line as well as holding our picnic table tablecloth in place, and the cool multicolor LED light string which can be seen in the shelter photos. And in preparing for the trip I discovered that it's possible to buy First Aid kit replenishment packs. I'm sure it's cheaper to just grab Tylenol, Immodium, etc. from whatever supply one has at home, but given the damp nature of kayak trips I preferred to have meds in the sealed little single-serving packets you find in first aid kits, since I think they keep better than way.

Another one for the books. Where to next year?!

 

Saranac Lakes 2025 - Part II

This is Part II of a trip diary which starts here.

Day 3: Monday 9/7 

I'm an early riser, so on our first day in camp I got out of my tent at about 6:30AM to face a cold, cold early Monday morning. We didn't have any plans to get anywhere in a rush that morning and everyone else had the sense to stay in bed until the temps warmed up. They may have avoided the numb fingers and toes I experienced, but they missed out on a beautiful scene of early morning mist over the water, as the cold air condensed over the relatively warm water of the lake. 

Morning mist

Mid-morning Tom and I took the motorboat back to South Creek to retrieve the things which had been left behind in the previous day's chaos, including my cooler, my Jackery power system and giant solar panel (which we really didn't need, but which I had recently gotten for a steal at a community sale and wanted a chance to play with), and our Yonkers bagels. When we got back to camp the four of us had a fancy brunch of bagels (toasted over Tom's old school stove-top toaster), cream cheese and lox. 

Campsite bagel brunch

Tom was still feeling less Tall than usual, so in the afternoon he stayed in camp while the remaining three of us went out in our kayaks to explore across the lake and up into Weller Pond. We paddled about 6 miles round-trip, including a snack stop at the lovely if unpleasantly named Tick Island (poor branding!). Not a lot of miles for a full day of kayaking, but a good easy start to the trip after the previous day's cockup (to use a British term).

My dinner of chicken vegetable stew, which I had pre-cooked and frozen in containers at home, was well received, though the accompanying gummy bear dessert was met with less enthusiasm. This was despite the fact that they were organic gummy bears from Whole Foods which according to the package were "inspired by real fruit flavors". Maybe they would have been better received if they had been that other kind of gummy - wink, wink. Traditionally we're all exhausted at night from the day's paddling, but this was an easy day so we hung out fairly late (which means after 9 PM) in the shelter and enjoyed a campfire before all crawling into our tents.

Hanging out in the shelter

So, let me tell you a little about our campsite accommodations. One of the tricks of camping is to create an environment that's right for your trip. At one end of the spectrum you see car campers who bring so much stuff you wonder why they even left home, and at the other you see ultralight backpackers who live on ramen drained through their socks so they don't have to carry the extra weight of a strainer (my understanding is that by about the third day of the trip sock-strained ramen starts to taste pretty funny). We generally aim in between those extremes: more luxury than a backpacker, since we can carry more, without going overboard, so to speak.

I had mistakenly remembered that this campsite had only a "thunderbox", that is, an outhouse without the house part, but in fact it had a full outhouse, which a previous occupant had even left stocked with toiled paper and hand sanitizer. Humorously, someone had also added a gel seat pad to the toilet seat. More luxury!

Quite commodious

Tall Tom always brings the latest iteration of his portable battery-powered shower. Here's how it works: fill the black bucket half-way with lake water. Boil some water on the stove in the grey pot and then dash through the woods with it and add it to the black bucket, resulting in a good amount of reasonably warm water. While the water is still warm, get undressed and have a lovely shower dans le nature.

Campsite shower

This trip was definitely about abundance compared with our typical kayak-based camping lifestyle. Tom had brought a big ol' tank of cooking gas, so we had plenty of fuel for cooking as well as heating water for showers. I brought a fold-up egg crate camping mat to place on top of my usual backpacker camping cot and brought my big, big tent. I also brought three pillows (two small camping pillows plus an inflatable) so I didn't have to use my clothing dry bag as a pillow, plus I brought a sleeping bag liner for extra warmth. With the Jackery power system we never had to worry about running out of battery power (I usually am very mindful about preserving power, keeping my headlamp on low, my phone on airplane mode, and so on). I already mentioned the big pile of firewood we found on our arrival, so we had plenty of wood. I carted in a full five gallon jug of water, so we didn't immediately have to start focusing on filtering drinking water. And speaking of phones, we had solid cellphone connectivity, which I consider a mixed blessing. Years back, backcountry phone connectivity was very iffy - maybe you could find a particular spot around the campsite where if you were lucky you could get voice or maybe texting connectivity. Or maybe you'd have to keep toggling in and out of airplane mode until finally the phone caught a whiff of signal and connected. Of course, before that there was a time when there was no such thing as cell phone connectivity. This time around, we had solid LTE coverage all the time. That's good in that we were able to stay abundantly connected with home and get updated weather forecasts, but bad in that we never really fully disconnected from the outside world.

Big ol' solar charging station in action

Let me also talk about bear hangs. Perhaps the first lesson in backcountry camping is that at night you always suspend your food and other scented items from a tree to keep from attracting bears and other wildlife. On our previous trip to this campsite I had diligently gone through the hassle of doing a bear hang every night, while Tall Tom and Rob just stored their food in the shelter (in bear resistant bags, at least). I started once again to do a bear hang on this trip, but quickly figured that my storing my food away from the campsite wasn't going to make much difference in whether we attracted wildlife given that the other three group members were storing their food bags in the shelter. So, I gave up on my bear hang after one night and just stored my food (also in bear-resistant bags) in the shelter like everyone else. We were fine. We got a small amount of interest from mice and raccoons, but as far as I can tell bears never entered our campsite (though they were close by - more on this later).

Day 4: Tuesday 9/8

Once again I got out of my tent early and spent some chilly time walking around the campsite checking out the views. The morning was even colder than the day before, so I got a small fire going and put up water for coffee. Critters of some kind had gotten into our trash bag; I cleaned up the mess and put everything into a new bag, which we hung in a better spot. As each person woke up they gravitated towards the campfire, and hanging out by the fire on a chilly morning was so pleasant that we wound up again getting a slow start on our day's activities. Mid-morning Béla, Jen and I finally roused ourselves and set off to explore into Lower Saranac Lake. This involved retracing the path through the twisty Saranac River which Tall Tom and I had traversed in the motorboat a few days earlier - this time with less stress since the river was largely deserted and we were in kayaks. This path took us through the lock between Middle and Lower Saranac Lakes lakes. I am the expert lock operator of the group; on this trip I worked it in one direction and supervised while my lock-operating apprentice Jen worked it in the other.

Jen and Béla in the lock

We decided to go through the ponds towards Lake Flower and scout the large boat ramp at the park headquarters, since we were looking for better places to unload at the end of the trip rather than hauling our gear up the trail at South Creek. This boat launch looked like a good option - though later on Tom came up with an even better idea. 

Paddling through the lake's islands

The shorelines in some parts of the Saranac Lakes are quite rocky and steep with little opportunity to land kayaks, particularly if one of your party has a brand new (to him) kayak which he doesn't want to scratch up by landing on rocks. With a little exploration we eventually found a hospitable spot to land for lunch near campsite 26 on Pope Island. Our total paddling for the day was about 11.5 miles.

Back at camp, Tom made a tasty dinner of chicken sausage and peppers. I skipped the mint Milano cookies he provided for dessert not because I'm virtuous, but because they are dairy and I had just eaten meat (Jewish dietary rules stuff). 

Earlier I detailed my luxurious bedding arrangement on this trip: mini cot, egg crate mattress pad, three (tiny camping) pillows, a down sleeping bag and liner. Let me tell you, it's a very cozy arrangement once one is situated, but every night the process of getting myself into the sleeping bag liner and the sleeping bag, arranging the pillows, zipping myself into the sleeping bag, and arranging the bag's hood over my head all without totally knocking the mattress pad out of place was an acrobatic feat which usually took several tries. I think I probably made a lot of noise getting settled into bed at night. Maybe that's why Jen packed up her tent and moved it farther away from mine after night one. I will say, though, that once I got everything positioned right via my nightly contortionist act, I slept quite well almost every night including being comfortably warm despite the cold temperatures. 

Sunset at Camp

Another campsite photo

Day 5: Wednesday 9/9

It's amazing how quiet the Adirondacks are. In early September in the DC area the night air is still abuzz with cicadas, and you hear songbirds all day long. Up in the north country, on the other hand, I guess September is much further along towards winter. The birds and insects are mostly gone, except for the loons with their haunting calls. We didn't even see many small critters, other than the cute tiny little Adirondack red squirrels. The only time we heard noise was when we got the occasional aircraft overflight which Jen said was from the nearby Fort Drum.

"Birdlife" from Fort Drum

By Wednesday I had finally learned my lesson: while I still woke up early, I stayed in my tent reading the newspaper and watching some more of the Billy Joel documentary on my phone until around 8 AM, by which time the temp had crossed up into the 40's. Once we were all awake we ate the remaining bagels with butter, cream cheese and Tom's friend Pam's peach butter. I've never met Pam, but she provides lots of provisions for our trips in the form of things like the green beans she "puts up" each year and gives to Tom as a gift. 

Instead of kayaking, we went for a hike. The Adirondacks contain a series of lakes, and one of the things people historically do is paddle a lake, then portage, or carry, their boat and stuff over to the next lake. In my opinion, portaging isn't all that much fun, but the portage trails between lakes are in some cases worthy hikes in and of themselves. We had heard that the canoe carry trail from Weller Pond to Saginaw Bay was such a nice hike, including a section of old growth woods, and we decided to check it out. The four of us piled into the motorboat and made quick work of the trip across Middle Saranac Lake and up into Weller Pond - the very same route which had explored by kayak on Monday.

Heading to Weller Pond (Jen says driving a boat is like driving a tractor)

The hike was, in fact, quite pretty, and there was one section of the woods where the nature of the trees changed - fewer scraggly understory trees, more big, mature trees. Given the harsh environment of the ADKs this was not lush California old growth forest, but we think we found the rare spot which had never been logged. When we got to the Saginaw Bay end of the trail we came across two old guys (even by our standards) who had kayaked over and were doing the same walk in the opposite direction. Not surprisingly, we saw them again on the way back.

Hike photos

It was a fun hike, but it was a workout for Tall Tom, who as I've mentioned, is not up to his usual tallness. When we got back to camp he relaxed while the rest of us showered. I've got to say, a warm shower, even with lake water (actually, the lake water is pretty clean) is a life restoring experience. I don't know what it is about kayak camping, maybe it's the time spent in wet neoprene clothing, but after a few days you start to smell really bad. In my case I pick up an odor which is something like rancid Cheez Doodles mixed with goat droppings, and it's good to wash it off every once in a while. I also shaved both my face and head, making me the only trip participant to freshen their hairdo during the trip.

Freshly showered

After my shower I put on fresh, clean clothes, which is a luxury when backcountry camping. Except that I had packed for slightly warmer temperatures than we wound up having, so a couple of the warm layers I had brought just in case - a merino wool base layer and my scratchy old wool sweater - got worn for the whole week. Hey, supposedly you can wear wool for a long time before it gets stinky. 

It was Jen's turn to make dinner, which was salmon croquettes with rice pilaf, with a topping of cooked beets and carrots. Dessert was no-bake cookies ("doo doo cookies", according to Tom) which never quite solidified but which were yummy nonetheless. As further proof of how lazy the local wildlife is, Jen accidentally left the leftover salmon out overnight on the picnic table, and in the morning it was untouched.

Another pretty sunset