Paddling With Loons

Paddling With Loons  

A week on the Northern Forest Canoe Trail

An article from the Carolina Paddler “Different Waters” series.

Written by Alton Chewning.  Photos by Deb Hinzman and Alton Chewning

-The loon is the spirit-bird of the North. With a compact, low-freeboard body, a regal head and dagger-like bill, it exudes confidence and nobility.  Add to this the loon’s panoply of calls, the chiaroscuro feathering, and the air of mystery that loons exude and you have a perfect bird, one that rivals the quetzal and albatross in beauty and symbolic weight. For paddlers from the South, loons are a potent draw to northern waters.

NFCT

-The Northern Forest Canoe Trail is comprised of 740 miles of canoe and kayak destinations in New York, Vermont, Québec, New Hampshire, and Maine.  The trail is an invention, a dream of three paddlers, quilted from 23 rivers and streams and 59 lakes and ponds.  The NFCT combines trading paths used by Native Americans stitched to settler routes and voyageur trails.

Starting in Old Forge, N.Y.  and ending at Fort Kent, Québec, the trail offers paddling of exceptional variety. Day trips on calm lakes, overnighters on gentle rivers and whitewater for thrill seekers. The trail features sprawling lakes like Champlain and Chesuncook and rivers with pleasing names like the Missisquoi, Allagash and Saranac. Rivers on the NFCT run in each direction.  A thru-boater can expect to run some rivers going upstream, some downstream.  The paddling can be genteel, stopping at a B&B for the night, or rugged, dragging a boat upriver through five miles of shallow, rocky creeks. The dream of the founders was to create a new regional water path, a varied tour for the long tripper and a casual outing for the day paddler.

The three founders of the NFCT–Ron Canter, Mike Krepner and Randy Mardres-were friends, coworkers, and avid paddlers. They began researching paths used by native people, traders and settlers and eventually devised a long single path.  Kay Henry and Rob Center, principals in Mad River Canoe Company, joined the effort and together they formed the Northern Forest Canoe Trail, Inc. By the spring of 2006 the trail was officially completed.

Carolina Kayak Club

In June of 2024, eight paddlers from the Carolina Kayak Club set out to paddle the first 72 miles of the NFCT.  This early section begins on lakes of the Adirondacks, featuring shores dotted with some of the oldest cabins and campgrounds in the Northeast. The trail would progress to less groomed areas, moving from lake to creek to river to ponds–with sections wild and beautiful and remote from the outside world, at least to the eye.

The CKC could be considered a younger sibling of the Carolina Canoe Club. Several members of the CCC started the CKC in 2009 to focus on paddling the lakes, rivers, and coasts of eastern North and South Carolina. Many paddlers belong to both clubs.

This NFCT trip was organized by Ingrid Haddon.  The group included Ingrid, Katherine Bellows, Pam Borden, Alton Chewning, Gisela Fleming, Deb Hinzman, Suzy Lawrence and Craig Smith. Ingrid would paddle her new Rapid Fire Kevlar canoe.  Katherine Bellows would use a skin on frame canoe she recently made. Alton would paddle a TRAK folding kayak and the rest would rent Kevlar canoes from a company in Saranac, NY– St. Regis Canoe Outfitters.  St. Regis would also handle our shuttles between Old Forge, where we would start our paddle, and a take-out point in Upper Saranac Lake, not far from the town of Saranac Lake.

Getting Underway

The paddlers made their way north from North Carolina, taking various paths and schedules for the twelve-hour drive. We gathered the night before in Saranac Lake at the Meadowbrook Campground. Next door was a 1920’s “cabin colony” The cabin colonies were built to provide a rustic layover to tourists traveling in the newly popular automobiles. 

We spent our free time that night doing some last-minute preparations and packing.  A few optional items were removed from packs (but not enough) and we enjoyed a cool night of rest before our trip began.

The following day, a Sunday, we convened at the St. Regis Canoe Outfitters office, making last minute purchases at their well-stocked shop and loading our boats onto the shuttle trailer. Shuttling is an art, not a science and many details go into planning a shuttle. In this case we would leave our cars parked for the week at the take-out, Follensby Clear Pond Boat Launch, off Hwy 30.  From there we piled into the shuttle van, giddy and expectant and proceeded to the Old Forge put-in (at the town of Webb, NY). After a quick look at Old Forge, gear was loaded and boats launched. We waved goodbye to our shuttle driver, Mary, and pushed off.

We paddled through First, Second, Third and Fourth Lakes, part of the Fulton Chain of Lakes, getting our sea legs. It was Father’s Day, so boat traffic and a breeze rocked our boats, encouraging us to paddle strong. Both banks were lined with houses and lake cabins. We saw the first evidence of the classic Adirondack style.

On Fourth Lake, some of us pulled over for a break. All the shoreline was developed so we hoped the owners didn’t mind our intrusion. Soon we were invited by one homeowner to use her bathroom. This was our first example of a “trail angel.”

At the north end of Fourth Lake, we continued through a narrow channel at the aptly named town of Inlet.  Casual paddlers can pull over at Inlet for ice cream or a sandwich, but we pressed on to Fifth Lake, a very small one.

Soon we did our first “trainer” carry, a 0.4-mile wheelable portage to Sixth Lake.  In the Adirondacks, the word, “carry” is often used interchangeably with “portage.”  A carry could be wheelable, meaning the boat could be transported on a cart or it could be non-wheelable.  The boat would need to be carried.

We continued through Sixth into the much larger Seventh Lake.  We were wearing down by now and started looking for a camp site.  At this point we saw our first loons, a male and female swimming close together and unconcerned with us. Loons have a haughtiness about them, a slight uptick of the head, a way they look down their bills at you–if they bother to acknowledge you at all.

Before the trip we had made the decision not to reserve campsites.  This choice involved some risks, but we felt it allowed us more flexibility in our day’s travel.  In this part of NFCT, stealth camping or boondocking is not allowed. Often, we spent time poking around for a suitable campsite but the wing-it strategy generally worked well.

This first night we settled on a campsite just northeast of the Seventh Lake Launch.  It was a good spot with a sandy beach and a pleasing view of the sunset.  It was also our introduction to black flies and the local mosquitoes.  That night, loons called in abundance–haunting, disturbing, thrilling cries. During the day, loons take a diffident attitude towards humans, not giving so much as a hoot, but at night, their voices rise.

Loons have a rich repertoire, including the wail, tremolo, yodel, and hoot, each used for a specific purpose. The wail is often compared to a wolf’s howl and is used to indicate location to other family members. The tremolo call, also called the “laughing” song, is distinguished by a short, wavering quality.  It can communicate location and distress. The yodel is a male call establishing a territorial claim. These calls can be heard here.  Hearing the loon songs resounding over the lake that night, we knew we were now in the North.

Our second day started with a short paddle to the top of Seventh Lake for our second portage, a one-mile wheel on an easy path to Eighth Lake. The trail passed through Eighth Lake State Campground and some of us were able to cadge rides from rangers and campers for part of our gear. Ingrid recalled, “The man that helped me was very impressed that a mostly female group would tackle such an adventure and said we were very inspirational.”

At the end of the carry, we were inspected by a young state employee to make sure we weren’t transmitting invasive plants from one lake to another.  Non-native plants and animals are a grave concern throughout the lakes region.

A short, windy trip across Eighth Lake took us to our next portage.  At this point the carry-business became serious.  On this trudge, we wheeled part of the time but at other times we had to lift our boats over rocks, ruts, or mud.  This 1.3-mile carry seem to go on forever and we had a sense of things to come. Although we didn’t notice it, we were at the highest elevation of the NFCT, 1825 feet.  Here the drainage changed from the Moose to the Raquette River.

The saving grace of this portage was the final five hundred feet, a boardwalk over the Brown’s Tract marsh and blooming Blue Flag irises, bog rosemary and other plants.  It was getting warm and taking off our shoes for a footbath felt good.  The weather at this time of year is typically in the mid-70’s in the day, mid-50’s at night.  While we were there, most of the East Coast was in a heat wave so we had some 90-degree days and warm nights.  The water temperature varied with the size and exposure of the waterway but generally was pleasant for entering.

A docent/volunteer with the park met us as we had lunch on the boardwalk landing.  He had participated many times in the Adirondack Canoe Classic Race, affectionately known as the “90 Miler,” and offered advice and encouragement to Ingrid and Pam. They were considering the race so all information was appreciated.

After lunch, we snaked through a long section of marsh creek, Brown’s Tract Inlet, covering only a couple of miles as the crow flies but making many turns.

We passed carpets of aquatic plants, like the White Waterlily and the Yellow Pond Lilies.  Ingrid pointed out the carnivorous reddish/purple Pitcher plants scattered among the vegetation.  Soon we came to the first of the beaver huts and beaver dams.

There would be three or four more.  Our approach was to look for a low point in the dams and try to use “warp speed” to ram over them.  This sometimes worked.  Other times Craig or Suzy would pull sticks from the low points to give us a bit more leeway.  Often, we had to get out of the boats and into the muck to lift them over the dams.

We never saw a beaver, which are nocturnal. Someone said this wasn’t always the case.  When Europeans first arrived, the beaver population in what’s now the U.S. was thought to be over 400 million and beaver went about their business in the daytime. Like the American bison, the population was rapidly thinned by hunting and trapping, and the daytime activity was abandoned.  The remaining beaver adapted to third shift, avoiding most humans.  Beaver have made a comeback in New England, as we confirmed.

Soon we entered Raquette Lake, a large body of water with many bays, coves and islands. Paddling north as we exited Brown’s Tract Inlet would have been the most advantageous approach. Instead, we paddled east, to the eastern shore of South Bay, stopping at Golden Beach State Park for a break and enjoying some of Pam’s homemade energy bars.  The water was inviting, and Suzy, Katherine and others took a dip.

After this we had a hard time finding a camp spot.  We stopped to ask advice at a summer camp and were directed to sites nearby.  We made our way to Big Island on the western side of South Bay, not too far from where we had exited the inlet a couple of hours before.  We found an inviting campsite with a small, crescent-shaped landing and another lovely sunset view.

One note about campsites.  Pit toilets were common to many of the sites we used.  Some of the other areas we passed through (campgrounds, portage trails) also had toilet facilities.  Otherwise catholes were the order of the day.

A Loonal Interlude

Common loon (Gavia immer) males and females are identical in appearance with males slightly larger than females. Their strikingly beautiful appearance of black and white markings of pearl-like spots includes two throat “necklaces,” one prominent with thin vertical white stripes encircling the neck and another of small white dots just under the “chin.”  This is the summer dress of the loons; in cold weather they take off the tuxedo and put on gray and white sweatpants.

While the regal black and white gives the loons a noble aspect, their faces can be menacing.  Their eyes are red, like a cicada.  Animals with red eyes are thought to see better in the dark, a useful ability for the deep-diving loons.  Below the crimson eyes is a spear-like bill. Sharply chiseled, the bill is effective in catching fish and can also be used to wound or kill other loons.

The next day, we continued heading northeast on Raquette Lake.  Again, this is a large lake and there are numerous islands and bays on the eastern bank.  Navigation was tricky but Ingrid, Craig and others had a good feel for it.  We spread out a bit here.

I saw a juvenile loon and moved a little closer.  The young one glimpsed me and showing none of the aplomb of the adults, skittered away.  Its movement was comical, a zigging-zagging jitterbug across the lake.  Perhaps the young bird was trying to take flight.

Loons need a runway for takeoff, thirty yards or much more.  Their heavy bodies are built for swimming, so it takes time to get up speed, flapping their wings and running across the surface of the water until lift-off is achieved.

If the juvenile I saw wasn’t trying to take flight perhaps it was doing another loony maneuver, “wing rowing.”  The loon’s large feet are their typical propulsion but when threatened they sometimes use their wings as paddles to help speed away. Loons may continue wing rowing for long distances.

Our next destination was Forked Lake.  We had the choice of using a narrow waterway between Raquette Lake and Forked Lake but the outfitters warned it could be too dry and we might get bogged down in mud. We opted to do a carry from lake to lake.  We made our way through Outlet Bay to a half-mile portage from Raquette Lake to Forked Lake.  Another comfortable rolling portage.

From here we paddled through Forked Lake to a small inlet on the southeastern tip of the lake.  Blue buoys marked a rocky entrance to the mandatory portage at Forked Lake State Campground. Red and green buoys are relatively common on New York waterways, a convenience we Southerners found foreign.

The purpose of the buoys was soon obvious.  We had one boat stray from the channel and run up on a rock. There were a few moments of concern, but all were soon underway.  This landing was a busy place with campers and fisherman and other paddlers.  We met the owner of Raquette River Outfitters, who was there supplying canoes to young campers. After getting to know us, the outfitter–another trail angel–volunteered to haul some of our gear to the end of the portage, where we would put into the Raquette River.

Gisela agreed to ride with him and transfer the gear.  On their ride, he bettered the offer, saying he could take the gear past the next two portages, one for Buttermilk Falls and the next carry to avoid a set of rapids. He would deposit our equipment near the campsite at the entrance of Long Lake.  Gisela would carry the gear from the road to the lean-to there.

This was very helpful, but it did make us aware that unless we camped near Forked Lake, in the midafternoon, we would be obliged to complete two more portages on the day, for a total of four, with the upcoming ones among the hardest we would do. No other campsites would be available until the Pine Brook Lean-to, after finishing the fourth portage, Deerland Carry, at the start of Long Lake.  Plus, some of gear was already in route to the end of the fourth carry. We were caught between a rock and a hard place, which also describes the portage trails, so we mushed on.

The day’s second portage, FLSC to Raquette River, was 1.5-miles but rollable and easy.  At the end of the portage, we realized some gear (a PFD and paddle) was missing and presumably with the outfitter truck.  We had spares so we managed.

The put in was at a shallow, rocky section of the river offering no ideal channel.  We banged, scraped and waded our way through it and continued down the Raquette.

The Raquette here was a narrower river with a different feel. A welcome variation, these transitions are a common theme with the Northern Forest Canoe Trial, woven as it is from many bodies of water.

Soon we came to a horizon line indicating the approach to Buttermilk Falls.  This portage was short, only 0.1 or 0.2 mile but it was the most difficult and concerning.

Footing was unpredictable, wet moss grew on some of the path stones and several sunken brooks had to be hopped over, being careful with foot placement.  The photos do not convey the difficulty of the path while carrying gear or a boat.

The gradient was taxing. It was an easy place to make a wrong step, under load, and hurt something.  However, it was the best option for getting downriver.

A short side trip revealed Buttermilk Falls, a truly impressive series of six-to-ten-foot drops ending in one big plummet.  Rated Class IV it would take a daring, skilled and properly outfitted individual to undertake it.

By the time we finished this short but arduous carry, the day was getting late, maybe six o’clock.  We still had a short paddle on the Raquette and another 0.6 mile portage, the Deerland Carry.  Much of Deerland was rocky, rooted and narrow, making wheeling long boats difficult.  Often a short section could be rolled, then the cart and boat had to be lifted over and beyond an obstacle. Some carts would stay in place when the boats were hoisted.  Others would shift position requiring a reset each time.

One method of carrying a canoe is overhead, with the gunwales on the shoulders or on a carry-yoke.  Instead, two people would typically carry our canoes, usually in a low position.  This approached worked better, particularly since parts of a portage could be sometimes rolled.

Katherine made the canoe she used (see the addendum on her boat.) Roughly thirteen and a half feet long and weighing only 23lbs., she carried it overhead on a portage yoke of her design. The yoke utilized a removable thwart from the canoe.

I was paddling the heaviest boat, a 45lb. TRAK kayak.  When wheeling was not possible, I carried the kayak on one shoulder. Using this method meant holding the boat at a 30-degree horizontal angle, transferring some of the weight to a padded hip.  This approach only worked when the path was at least eight feet wide to allow for the slanted angle of the kayak.  If the trail was narrower, a more tiring straight-on carry was needed.

We all took turns carrying the loose gear, sometimes to vary muscles between carrying boats and lugging bags. The communal approach gave the enterprise a more hopeful, cooperative feel.

On Deerland, the final carry of the day, some of the boats were transported as far as the campsite, others were left midway to finish the carry in the morning.  It was dark by the time we made camp, and we were spent.  Ingrid later called this, “The portage day from Hell.”

Ingrid stressed, “The shear amount of effort everyone put forth this day to make all these portages – teamwork was the only way we made it across.”

If it walks like a duck… Well, it isn’t a loon. 

Seeing a loon walk on land, one quickly realizes why they don’t do so often.  The bird, so majestic in the water, shuffles and bumbles on solid ground, quickly losing its aristocratic air, like a knight, shorn of armor to reveal a pale, raw-boned stripling.

This lack of dexterity on land is a result of supreme adaptation to water. Loons have large, webbed feet, allowing them to move quickly on or below water. They can dive to 200 feet, holding their breath for up to five minutes. The legs are set farther back on the body, perfect for swimming but poorly balanced on land.

They are probably terrible at portaging.

On our fourth day, we woke groggy and sore, resigned to starting our “Sisyphus rolling the boulder up the hill” routine.  However, this morning revealed a pleasant surprise, a lovely paddle up the narrow Long Lake, a widening in the Raquette River.  Incidentally, the name, Raquette, means snowshoe in French and the mouth of the river supposedly takes on this shape.

The surrounding mountains of the Adirondacks gave a majestic backdrop to the lake. The light rains and mist added to the pastel softening of distant peaks.  Somehow, we felt more alone in this light, on these waters.  Scattered cabins were shuttered and quiet.  Solitude was ours.

Then other paddlers appeared. While we were resting on shore a group of five young men, paddled by in two canoes.  We exchanged waves, happy to share the lake with fellow travelers. Before our trip began, we held a raffle, guessing how many paddlers we would see during the week.  We soon realized all our guesses were much inflated and gave up on the meager count.

The guys were the only other paddlers we saw on multiple days. They were often shirtless, wearing only swim trunks, causing a stir among some members of our party.

There aren’t many notes for this day.  Pleasant days are restorative and prized but the difficult days leave more scars and memories.

It’s a marvelous night for a Loon Dance

Loons have several dance steps.  One is called a Circle Dance. This is a territorial interaction when rival loons slowly swim around each other, like boxers in a ring, circling before throwing a punch. Often one loon dives underwater.  The rival (or rivals) will dive after the first or at least put a head under to see what the first is up to.  An aggressive loon can rocket upwards spearing the rival. Most circle dances end in a stand-off although fights sometimes occur.

The next morning, our fifth, we passed the young fellows as they were lingering in camp, and we encouraged them to meet us at the next portage to give a hand.  They coyly smiled back.

We heard the throb of Raquette Falls long before coming to the take-out on river right.  This was a 1.3 portage over a difficult up and down trail. One thru-paddler, a husky fellow, called it a “monumental portage.” Waterbars were placed every 40-50 feet on the steep trail to drain run-off. These rock or wood diversions meant lifting a cart and canoe over the bump and resettling it, generally a two-person operation.  Some carts worked better at this than others, staying strapped and connected to the boats.

The length of the portage caused us to break into groups: a forward party, who transferred most of the gear and a latter party, who did most of the canoe carrying.  The day was hot and frequent breaks were required.  In all the carry would take us four hours.

The reward for this portage was a smooth, groomed final hundred yards to a large pool in the river.  Pam wrote a welcoming message in the sand to hearten the weary sherpas.

We took lunch here and a dip in the cool, delicious waters of the Raquette.  What a luxury after the grind of the trail. We slumped on the banks, lost in our thoughts.

While we were lounging the young men arrived.  We had hoped they would appear in time to help us portage our gear but alas, they did not. We managed. They had a large, three-person canoe but otherwise were traveling much lighter than us, clothing kept to a minimum. They marveled at all our gear.

We took photos together and learned they were mostly from DC, and all attended the University of Maryland.  They found the NFCT from an internet search and were having a grand time. A cell phone had been lost but all were smiling and enjoying their trek.  We enjoyed meeting them and coordinated future camp spots to give them room and then we headed out.

Traveling up the narrowing Raquette, we came on a lovely campsite. Not the wide-open vistas of the lakes but appealing in its own way.

We were not the only creatures to bed down here. Sunfish had made nesting circles near the bank.

As we tidied up and lazed by the river’s edge, Gisela brought out a bottle she’d been transporting these many miles.  A toast was raised to the trail and the smiles at the end of long days.

Our final day called for a short paddle, then a moderate portage (Indian Carry) and another five-mile paddle. After a miscue in directions and with a rainstorm brewing, Ingrid reached the St. Regis outfitters by cell and arranged a different pick-up, one that would avoid Indian Carry and the subsequent paddle. We would end several miles short of our original ambitious plan.  To continue would have put us arriving too late in the day for meeting the outfitters and returning the rented boats.

We followed Stoney Creek as it became increasingly narrow and crooked until opening on the first of the Stoney Ponds.  Along the way we saw several eagles, as we had on other days.  Ingrid thought they were larger than the NC variety.

After poking through the ponds, we saw the familiar face of our shuttle driver, Mary, from days before. She and a young hand were making use of a friend’s private drive to access the pond and deliver us from the water.

As we loaded up our boats, no one seemed to mind missing the last carry and the extra miles of rainy paddling.  A short drive delivered us to Follensby Clear Pond Boat Launch where our cars were parked, and our trip was ended.  In all we estimated sixty percent of our time was spent paddling and forty percent portaging. As in most things where enjoyment and discomfort are mixed, we filed away vivid memories of the hard times, the perseverance of another step, another stroke, and the shared joy of cooperation in hard times.

“Friends… they cherish one another’s hopes. They are kind to one another’s dreams.”

Henry David Thoreau

 

ADDENDUM

-Travel Data

Compiling the daily GPS travel data kept by Craig and Ingrid revealed these numbers.  We traveled 95.80 miles in total, 77.64 of this on water, 18.16 on land.  Keep in mind, a one-mile carry required at least three miles. Our original intent was to traverse the first 72 miles of the Northern Forest Canoe Trail.  While we fell a few geographic notches short of the destination, we certainly gave it a good effort, putting in additional miles in our meandering way and having a grand, memorable time of it.

-Takeaways

Take-away excess gear before you go. Ingrid suggested a limit of two bags, each weighing less than 30lb. So, a total of about 50lbs. of stuff.

Being the sole kayaker in the group, this meant something else to me. Gear has to go in smaller bags in order to fit into the smaller dimensions inside a kayak.  This makes packing a kayak a fussier and more time-consuming task than just slinging a couple of bags in a canoe.  This can be mitigated by pre-trip practice in packing the kayak. One advantage of using a kayak is avoiding the temptation brought on by all the cargo space in a canoe.  Space is wonderful but in a trip with portages, weight is the primary importance.

The 50lbs. of gear is a good guideline.  Outside of this is the need for certain things like the boat cart to wheel the canoes and kayaks. Most carts weigh 8-10lbs. I believe all of us used one, except Katherine, who carried her solo canoe. In the interest of keeping weight to a minimum, groups could consider sharing one cart between every two boats.

Several of the canoeists, Deb, Suzy and Gisela, were kind in transporting my cart in their canoe(s).  I used a TUG-C cart which can be completely disassembled.  If necessary, I could strap the cart parts onto the deck of my kayak.  Not a pretty arrangement but serviceable unless water conditions were challenging.

We probably carried too much food.  I had enough for one or two additional days on the water.  A little extra is good insurance but in this area, we weren’t likely to be stranded anywhere for long. People sharing group meals (in this case, Gisela, Ingrid and Craig) should distribute the food between themselves for transport.

Ingrid carried a bear bag hoist set-up.  I had my own, smaller version.  We took these as a precaution but we never used them.  Judging from other paddlers’ experiences, the chance of sighting a bear on this section is remote. Since the trip, Ingrid revised her bear gear, ditching the bear barrel (too heavy) and going with lighter cord to hoist a dry bag with food.

Katherine was the only person using a hammock.  Ingrid said she would consider one on her next trip to save weight.

Ingrid suggested a good prerequisite for an energetic trip like this–one with hefty portages–would be to do a local tough hike carrying at least 20lbs. of weight. She suggested the Company Mill Trail in Umstead park near Raleigh as a test, completing it in a reasonable time.  I can think of the take-out from the Lower Rocky, in the White Pines Nature Preserve, as another suitable place. Others may prefer the Upper Green take out or one on the Chattooga.  Imagine it with a boat and 50lbs. of gear.

A thought about portages.  The portages were inevitable. Maybe in some cases a portage could be avoiding by running certain rapids but doing so would mean scouting first, then if judged runnable, unloading vital gear, and carrying it.  So, not a great savings in time and still incurring some risk of damage. So, the best practice was to accept the portage as inevitable and try not to make it worse by whining too much.  A little barking seemed helpful.  Basically, just do the damn portage and be done with it.

-Katherine’s Canoe Katherine made her own canoe. The canoe construction is called “skin-on-frame”. The design is “The 66 Canoe” by Brian Schultz of Cape Falcon Kayak. It’s built by allowing a type of Dacron to shrink over the frame, then coating it with a two-part polyurethane. Depending on the number of coats of polyurethane, the skin can approach Kevlar toughness. Katherine explained, “For me, the most difficult construction task was learning to bend the ribs to the shapes required. Once I mastered that, shaping the boat was fun.”

The canoe took about 6 weeks to build. It’s 13’4″ (Katherine “ok, it was supposed to be 13’8″ but I got happy with my saw”), with a 27.5″ beam, weighing 23 lbs. Freeboard is about 8″. It has one thwart, which is movable. This is good because the boat is asymmetrical, i.e., paddling center is aft of true center. The thwart doubles as a shoulder yoke for portaging.

-TRAK Kayak (used by Alton) The TRAK kayak is a robust, seaworthy folding sea kayak. It is packable and compact enough to carry on planes, trains, and automobiles. The TRAK is unique in being the only kayak that allows altering the waterline and rocker, while in use, thereby adapting to changing waters. “A kayak version of gears on a mountain bike.”

The TRAK II version is 16 ft. long, with a 22.5” beam and weighs 44 lbs. The hull design is Greenland-style with hard chines and a slight V-hull for speed and tracking. The hard chine design allows for excellent edging and secondary stability.

A note on transport. Folding kayaks like the TRAK have skins and carbon fiber and aluminum frames. While very durable in water, they don’t like the rigid unpadded bars of most shuttle trailers.  I carried 18” sections of pool noodles to pad the bars and  attached them with straps.

It worked well but taping them on might have been better and quicker.  The outfitter employee used canoe blocks turned sideways to cushion the vertical trailer bars. I also used bow and stern straps to keep the boat from shifting. The strapping wasn’t cinched too tightly, to avoid bending the aluminum frame.

 

REFERENCES:

The Northern Forest Canoe Trail  by multiple writers

The Mountaineers Books  2010 271 pages

Upwards by Laurie Apgar Chandler

-An account written by the first woman to solo through-paddle the NFCT.

Maine Authors Publishing 2017  216 pages

 

“Loons Carry Deep Meaning for People” by Tom Dennis

https://www.thetimesherald.com/story/life/2018/07/26/loons-carry-deep-meaning-people/37126253/

“The Outside Story: Wails, Yodels, Tremolos, Hoots–Loon calls are more than meets the ear” by Laurie Morrissey

https://www.waterburyroundabout.org/community-archive/1le6wno2vhuop96sjk0tvii9mq5m48

“Common Loon”  an inventory of loon sounds.

https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/common-loon

“Author Ben Goldfarb Discusses The History Of Beavers In New England” By John Dankosky and Lily Tyson

Author Ben Goldfarb Discusses The History Of Beavers In New England

The Northern Forest Canoe Trail  by multiple writers

The Mountaineers Books  2010 271 pages

Upwards by Laurie Apgar Chandler

-An account written by the first woman to solo through-paddle the NFCT.

Maine Authors Publishing 2017  216 pages