Amicus
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New England's River failed to excite me much as a potential camping trip, as I viewed it over a couple of decades from southern NE highway overpasses. Those views sell the pristine beauty of most of its NH/VT stretch severely short, as we learned when we made the 51 miles from East Ryegate, NH to Hanover's Wilder Dam our Memorial Day weekend paddle in 2002.
This year, we picked up just below Wilder Dam - ten River Revelers gathering from eastern Mass., R.I., D.C., Detroit and So. Berwick, Maine. By noon, eight of us in four sturdy Old Town trippers were ready to start paddling. Skies were overcast and temperatures cool, but Kev warmed us up at our Burnap's Island lunch-spot with hot meatball and steak-and-chese subs.
Two of the three river guides we read describe Sumner Falls as a mandatory portage. The Upper Valley Land Trust map succinctly warns "DANGER! PORTAGE!", while the The AMC River Guide mentions recent drownings. Two of our four canoes, nevertheless, chose to follow The Conn. River Boating Guide, which opined that experienced whitewater paddlers, with scouting, might take it on the far NH side.
As they were scouting, three little rodeo boats materialized and starting playing in the waves - the only other boats we saw all day. They witnessed the Daves - J. and L. - maneuver their heavily-laden 20' Old Town XL Tripper through big haystacks and an S-turn, shipping water but emerging mostly intact - no small feat. Tim and Bill, in a lower-riding Discovery 169, were less fortunate and went for a cold and bumpy swim. The playboaters helped with retrieval. I would advise even experienced canoers to take the portage, which is an easy .25 mile on the VT side.
A mile below Hart Island - an endangered species refuge - after 13 miles of paddling, we reached our destination for the day, the UVLT's Burnham Meadow primitive campsite, on the Vermont side. We've camped at four of these wonderful river-access-only sites now in our two Conn. R. trips, and had them entirely to ourselves, on a big holiday weekend. From the meadow, a wooded slope led steeply up 100 yards to the RR, giving us a vivid experience of the Montreal Express as Dave J. fixed up our dinner of General Cho's Chicken. (Dave is a dab hand with the Asian spices.) Karl and Gary, who had been detained by chores in So. Berwick, joined us here.
Karl got us off to a fine start Sat. with his "Pain Perdu" - french toast enlivened by fresh orange zest and Cointreau, topped with maple syrup and accompanied by home fries, sausages, bananas and raspberries. Our 27-mile paddle to the UVLT Lower Meadow campsite in No. Walpole, NH - two miles above the Bellows Falls Dam - took us through more gorgeous green countryside, with dramatic views of Mt. Ascutney. Skies were mostly cloudy and by great good look the strong breezes remained at our back all day.
Gary's home-made brisket sandwiches fortified us at another island lunch-break. By Lower Meadow, the skies had cleared, and we admired the sunset over the River. Tim and helpers prepared shrimp jambalaya, as the evening's entree.
After Chuck's trad Sunday breakfast of English muffins, sausages, hash browns and eggs, with Entenmann's cheese danish and canteloupe on the side, we commenced our 21-mile paddle to our take-out to Putney, VT. Today brought pure sunshine and a tough portage to start us off - two niles though No. Walpole, around the Bellows Falls Dam. Four of the five canoes had functioning wheels and so chose to do this the hard way. Kev's wheels had a flat tire, which was all the excuse he and I needed to avail ourselves of Mr. Bellows Falls Taxi - a great guy and the best $20 I ever spent.
This proved to be a perfect day on another great stretch of a River that was almost eerily unpopulated. As we got nearer Putney and the River deepened and widened, we encountered a handful of powerboats and a few other paddlers, but mostly the River belonged to us. At a beach formed by a brook outlet above the Cheshire Bridge, horseshoes transpired while Bill prepared his Inimitable Melange, which features ham, fresh pineapple, black beans and secret ingredients. A perfectionist, he tweaks it to a higher level every year.
We reached Putney a little after 6 pm Sunday, and while three of the lads drove off to fetch vehicles, Drew regaled the rest of us with fantastic bleu-cheese-and-cheddar burgers and hand-cut french fries. Darkness had fallen by the time eight of us packed up and drove off, leaving Karl and Gary to keep it going one more night. (I hope they found a campsite.)
I've enjoyed every one of the 112 miles of the Connecticut we've now paddled, along the NH/VT border. It ranks with many more celebrated Rivers we've enjoyed over the 22 years we've been spending our Memorial weekends like this. My pictures are here.
This year, we picked up just below Wilder Dam - ten River Revelers gathering from eastern Mass., R.I., D.C., Detroit and So. Berwick, Maine. By noon, eight of us in four sturdy Old Town trippers were ready to start paddling. Skies were overcast and temperatures cool, but Kev warmed us up at our Burnap's Island lunch-spot with hot meatball and steak-and-chese subs.
Two of the three river guides we read describe Sumner Falls as a mandatory portage. The Upper Valley Land Trust map succinctly warns "DANGER! PORTAGE!", while the The AMC River Guide mentions recent drownings. Two of our four canoes, nevertheless, chose to follow The Conn. River Boating Guide, which opined that experienced whitewater paddlers, with scouting, might take it on the far NH side.
As they were scouting, three little rodeo boats materialized and starting playing in the waves - the only other boats we saw all day. They witnessed the Daves - J. and L. - maneuver their heavily-laden 20' Old Town XL Tripper through big haystacks and an S-turn, shipping water but emerging mostly intact - no small feat. Tim and Bill, in a lower-riding Discovery 169, were less fortunate and went for a cold and bumpy swim. The playboaters helped with retrieval. I would advise even experienced canoers to take the portage, which is an easy .25 mile on the VT side.
A mile below Hart Island - an endangered species refuge - after 13 miles of paddling, we reached our destination for the day, the UVLT's Burnham Meadow primitive campsite, on the Vermont side. We've camped at four of these wonderful river-access-only sites now in our two Conn. R. trips, and had them entirely to ourselves, on a big holiday weekend. From the meadow, a wooded slope led steeply up 100 yards to the RR, giving us a vivid experience of the Montreal Express as Dave J. fixed up our dinner of General Cho's Chicken. (Dave is a dab hand with the Asian spices.) Karl and Gary, who had been detained by chores in So. Berwick, joined us here.
Karl got us off to a fine start Sat. with his "Pain Perdu" - french toast enlivened by fresh orange zest and Cointreau, topped with maple syrup and accompanied by home fries, sausages, bananas and raspberries. Our 27-mile paddle to the UVLT Lower Meadow campsite in No. Walpole, NH - two miles above the Bellows Falls Dam - took us through more gorgeous green countryside, with dramatic views of Mt. Ascutney. Skies were mostly cloudy and by great good look the strong breezes remained at our back all day.
Gary's home-made brisket sandwiches fortified us at another island lunch-break. By Lower Meadow, the skies had cleared, and we admired the sunset over the River. Tim and helpers prepared shrimp jambalaya, as the evening's entree.
After Chuck's trad Sunday breakfast of English muffins, sausages, hash browns and eggs, with Entenmann's cheese danish and canteloupe on the side, we commenced our 21-mile paddle to our take-out to Putney, VT. Today brought pure sunshine and a tough portage to start us off - two niles though No. Walpole, around the Bellows Falls Dam. Four of the five canoes had functioning wheels and so chose to do this the hard way. Kev's wheels had a flat tire, which was all the excuse he and I needed to avail ourselves of Mr. Bellows Falls Taxi - a great guy and the best $20 I ever spent.
This proved to be a perfect day on another great stretch of a River that was almost eerily unpopulated. As we got nearer Putney and the River deepened and widened, we encountered a handful of powerboats and a few other paddlers, but mostly the River belonged to us. At a beach formed by a brook outlet above the Cheshire Bridge, horseshoes transpired while Bill prepared his Inimitable Melange, which features ham, fresh pineapple, black beans and secret ingredients. A perfectionist, he tweaks it to a higher level every year.
We reached Putney a little after 6 pm Sunday, and while three of the lads drove off to fetch vehicles, Drew regaled the rest of us with fantastic bleu-cheese-and-cheddar burgers and hand-cut french fries. Darkness had fallen by the time eight of us packed up and drove off, leaving Karl and Gary to keep it going one more night. (I hope they found a campsite.)
I've enjoyed every one of the 112 miles of the Connecticut we've now paddled, along the NH/VT border. It ranks with many more celebrated Rivers we've enjoyed over the 22 years we've been spending our Memorial weekends like this. My pictures are here.
While the XL Tripper of the two Daves shipped much water, their dry stuff stayed that way. Not, alas, for Tim and Bill, despite their "dry bags." Their sleeping bags and clothes got soaked, and it was a raw night with showers. The rest of us had gear to spare for them, however, and a couple of campfires eventually dried their own things out.
