Marion River Canoe Trip
July 1999
Click on the map to see a larger and more detailed version.
Directions to launch area: Take the New York State Thruway (I90) to Rt. 12 N, then to Rt. 28 N. Within two hours you will pass Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth Lakes. A few minutes later take a left on Sagamore Road, which leads to the town of Raquette Lake. The launch area will be very obvious.
This was my first canoe trip, so you novices out there might want to learn from the mistakes I made and the lessons I learned. The most important one is this: do not canoe on a lake as big and crowded with motorboats as Raquette unless the steerer has significant experience.
We set out from the main launch site at the Town of Raquette Lake at around 11:15. The many islands made the navigation slightly ambiguous, but the further we went the more assured of our route we were. After we passed the cluster of three islands in the distance on our left and then the shore with St. Williams Chapel on the right, we knew the bay ahead was our proper target. As soon as we entered the channel I was thrilled with the scenery, a thrill that is still with me as I think of it. Water plants such as the brilliant lavender beds of pickerelweed peppered the edge of the channel, yielding to expanses of marsh grasses and shrubs which led eventually to a line of majestic, windswept pines at the marsh's edge. The channel meandered pleasantly, and there was almost no need to consult the map. The most memorable sights on this leg of the trip were the brilliant cardinal flowers infrequently standing out on the edge of the water, and seeing a chipmunk swimming across the channel ahead. We wound our way to the canoe carry and made our way over it. As we continued on over Utowana and Eagle Lakes I was exposed to my first idiotic motorboaters, obviously completely unaware of the affect their wakes were having on us and the other canoeists. As we neared the northeast end of Eagle Lake the wind was making waves that foreshadowed the difficulty we would have on the return trip. We made our way through the final passage to Blue Mountain Lake, looped around an island, and headed back. The wind and waves facing us on Eagle Lake made me doubt that we would see the end. There were moments when it seemed that we were giving 110% just to stay in place. But we hugged the shore and made it through to Utowana, there once again giving our all just to make it across. My spirits rose as we rounded the bend; I knew then that we would make it. We reached the east end of the canoe carry and lay down on the grass; before I knew it Jeff was waking me up from a sound half-hour sleep. We once again made the carry and put in. This time I took the rear seat, trying my hand at steering for the first time. I did a predictably laughable job for a few minutes, then began to get the hang of it. Then we switched to the other side and I was once again completely out of control. After several minutes of increasing frustration I finally realized the blindingly obvious: turning left and turning right are two completely different animals. The effectiveness of my ruddering depends entirely on the direction of the turn in relation to the side where Jeff has his paddle. Once I got the physics in my head, my progress was steady. Approximately twenty minutes into the channel we got a rare treat: a closeup look at an American bittern. We didn't know what it was at the time, so we just sat and stared silently at its distinctive behavior; standing still with its bill pointed at the sky. By the time we reentered Raquette Lake my hands were blistered and my arms were sore, but the worst was behind us. Throughout our return passage we fought the wakes of careless motorboats, including one near shore which would have easily swamped us had Jeff not quickly turned into the wave. We reached the launch site at about 8:30, just after sunset.At around 2:00 AM, and in fact at one or two other times during that night, I woke up whimpering because someone was ripping my arms out of their sockets. At least that's what it felt like. The screams of my biceps are with me to this day. Since that time they have been tempered, and submit to their task of paddling with far fewer objections.
 |