I could easily have lingered in this campsite that was so like the West Branch or Allagash, but we were off before 8 a.m., passing the ‘boys” with a shout to Alden and Z (Zion), our Brooklyn friends. (Somehow I deleted their photo from the Day 5 post and will need to reinsert it later).
We gently drifted and paddled through a flooded, mysterious world of silver maple, to the melody of songbirds, rounding bend after bend with impressionistic reflections doubling the beauty.
This morning, I thought, was such a contrast to yesterday. As you trudge with aching shoulders, shrugging the portage yoke in a search for comfort, mud wrestling your shoes, grit in your socks like sandpaper, it is the hope ahead and the memories behind that fuel you and carry you to tranquil mornings of peace and wonder.
Everywhere the world was flooded and it made for some interesting paddling as we navigated Stoney Creek, picking our choice of routes. I think Dad was enjoying finding obscure paths that worked. And then there were the bridges that followed…
TOTAL MILES: 76.7