Day 35: Behind the White Wolf Inn in Stratton to island campsite on Flagstaff Lake (18.2 miles)

There is magic in the feel of a paddle and the movement of a canoe, a magic compounded of distance, adventure, solitude, and peace…Sigurd Olson

Thank you, Nancy and Arne Aho, for inspiring me with words from an author who was surely a kindred spirit, Sigurd Olson.  Someday I will paddle the lands of which he writes so vividly.

Mary sent me off well fed and with enough food for the day, especially simple foods I had been craving, like yogurt, hard-boiled eggs, and carrots.  It was nice to have someone wave me off, as I paddled from the White Wolf Inn through a creek and into the lake.

  
The cadence of my paddle, grandeur of the Bigelows marching along the water, the warring weather, with mist and rain the victor, all combined to put me in a poetic mood.  There is a poem simmering inside me about this day, just waiting to be finished.

 

I ate lunch on Hurricane Island, where I thought nostalgically of the note that Timm and Sal had left for me there during Paddle for Hope.  Today the island has a newer journal that only goes back to 2013.  Sydney, Marji, and I all put in a lot of miles with the wind at our backs…18 miles to the last campsite on an island in Flagstaff Lake.  Other than noting the serenading of many loons, I journaled little, had yogurt for supper, read a bit, and fell asleep wicked early!

TOTAL MILES:  493.2