...And Then Homeland Security Interrogated Us...

Yesterday Todd and I went on another covert op, um, canoe trip. This time we put in at Hope Dam in the Pawtuxet River. We paddled north to what we hoped would be the Scituate Reservoir. Due to our lack of map, we paddled through some creepy stretches of river that looked like alligators should have popped out of the water and swallowed us whole.

Here's Todd in the back of the canoe, paddling us upstream while I leisurely take a picture.

Scraggly tree in river.

Beej ready to fend off an alligator. Or a zombie. Or a zombie alligator.

Then we stumbled upon something entirely unexpected. The state of Rhode Island is relatively flat. It's been said that the highest point in RI is the landfill in Johnston. But if we're strictly sticking to non-man made points of elevation then the highest point in the state is Jerimoth Hill at 812 feet. As a result of living so close to sea level, we don't have waterfalls. But yesterday we stumbled upon one just south of the Scituate Reservoir. We tied the canoe to the side of the river, and went to check it out.

It's relatively flat, but still a water fall.

Just to the right of this waterfall we noticed a clearing in the woods, and went to check that out. We walked through the woods and ended up at the dam that holds Scituate Reservoir, the source of water for the City of Providence.

Todd is climbing up the stairs to the dam, as we blatantly ignored the no trespassing signs. There was a missing rail in the fence. If they really didn't want us to check it out, they should have repaired the fence. Today our calf muscles are sore from this climb, so I guess that's karma for ya.

Well, we could get prosecuted. At least we won't get shot. That would suck. For all the talk about no trespassing, there's a road that runs along the top of the dam. A road that any old shlub can drive on. We can't walk up the side of the dam, but we can drive our cars on top of it.

There are surveillance cameras on this building. Todd had joked that we'll get busted by Homeland because we climbed up the illegal staircase in the dam, took a bunch of pictures, then walked back down again within a few minutes.

Scituate Reservoir.

This is the view from the top of the stairs. If you look really close in the woods, you can see where I may have left my car. Somewhere near the horizon.

On the hike back to the canoe Todd found a Lady Slipper, an endangered flower.

Well, maybe we won't get interrogated by homeland. But just in case this blog is confiscated by the feds, you'll know why.

By Land and By Sea

I always experience mixed emotions on Sunday nights. I am usually winding down from a weekend filled with activity. I spend the evening being mellow so I can get to sleep at a reasonable hour and get some sleep so I can get up the next morning and go to work. I reflect on the fun from the weekend and dread going to work on Monday. I like my job, but I like weekends better than having to be in a cubicle at 8 AM on a Monday morning.

The weather is getting warmer, and Todd and I have been unsticking our butts from the couch. On Saturday morning we explored our town by canoe. There are loads of little ponds, rivers and lakes in Podunk just waiting for us to paddle through them.

We put the canoe in the water at Zeke’s Bridge, a boat launch where we often take to dogs for a swim. We ducked under the bridge and headed south. Eventually we paddled under I-95 and the lake thinned to a snake of a river. It’s times like these that I wish I had a crappy little digital camera I could just slip into my pocket. I have a very nice digital camera that I care a great deal about and would be extremely upset if I capsized in a canoe with it. So I will have to describe the scene for you.

The tunnel under the highway is a long creepy tunnel. It was about 8 or so feet wide and at least 30 feet high from the water and runs under the entire width of the highway--2 lanes and a breakdown lane on each side, and a large grassy median in the middle. As we canoed through it, the surface of the water was perfectly still, and the ceiling of the tunnel was perfectly reflected on the water’s surface. The reflection was so perfect that it appeared that the water was clear, and the ceiling of the tunnel was the bottom of the river beneath my canoe. I blinked several times at the optical illusion, trying to consciously convince myself of what I was seeing. The next time we go back there, I will bring my camera to show you. It was one of the cooler things I’ve seen in recent weeks.

Sunday found us playing with fiberglass resin in the workshop. We have some boat parts that we need to fix for the Big Restoration of 2009. I donned my safety glasses and mask, and sanded hardened fiberglass. Then I mixed batch after batch of fiberglass resin for another part we are fixing. While the fiberglass cured, we donned our bike shorts and put the bikes in the back of the truck.

Another great feature of Podunk is the bike paths. We discovered a map of a complex system of bike paths that extend all over the state, and all over New England. We’ve been exploring the parts in our town bit by bit; just 6 miles at a time until we get into better shape and can go for longer.

Today we parked the truck at the ice cream shop near the trail, and headed west. After a mile or two the paved bike path gave way to a dirt one. The trail follows the former railroad line, and crosses over old train bridges. I need to consult the book I just bought about the history of Podunk to see what the area looked like with a rail line going through it, because my imagination just isn’t cutting it. We stopped the ride at a defunct bridge with no surface on it then turned back. A friend has told me that the trail extends into Connecticut, and I would love to ride the whole thing one day soon.

But until then, I am watching the clock approach 9:00 PM, and am letting my eyes grow heavy. I wish I had one more Sunday, because Monday is a lousy way to spend one seventh of my life.

CT Canoe Trip, Part 9

Just to recap: dog capsized canoe, snow warning in the mountains, we decided to end the trip because our clothing was still wet, and there was frost on the ground in the morning when we woke up.

We pulled the canoe out in Newbury, VT, which is 5 miles as the crow flies from our starting point.

“Looks like we’re about 5 miles from the car, how are we going to get to there?” Todd asked.

“Well, I am the jogger of the family, I can walk there. It should take me about an hour to get there.”

“Sounds good,” said Todd. I made myself a sandwich, packed a water bottle, and Todd handed me a knife in case somebody tried to pick me up and get fresh with me.

I was about to leave when a man came walking up the boat ramp, “That your canoe?” We said it was.

“Well, then you’re gonna have to move it, because I need to get my boat up the ramp.” We went back down the ramp, and moved the canoe aside. The man backed his truck down the ramp, and we had recognized the truck. This was the man who was trying to get his boat up the bank, unsuccessfully.

“Hey, we know you! You were back there trying to get your boat up the bank,” Todd said.

“Oh, were you guys in the canoe? Yeah, thanks for stopping to see if I needed any help,” the man barked back.

“Sorry, we didn’t realize you needed help. You had 2 other people with you, it looked like you had it under control,” I protested.

“Those two people were elderly, they weren’t any help to me at all,” the man grumbled.

Todd and I walked back up the ramp, and I said to him “So, now I guess asking him for a ride to the car would be a bad idea, huh?”

CT River Canoe Trip Part 8

We woke up to frost on the grass, and fog in the air. We went back to sleep.

When we woke up again, the fog had burned off a bit, and the sun came out. I rearranged the clothes on the line, to get them to dry in the sun for the morning. Todd made breakfast.

We listened to the radio, read, hung out and watched the clothes dry. After a few hours we were able to pack everything up into the canoe, and get back on the water again.

This day closely mirrored my idyllic vision of canoeing with the dogs. Nemo dozed at my feet, and Griffen napped at Todd’s. The sun was out. The river at this point is one oxbow after another, so we spent the day zigzagging down the river. Birds chirped, water lapped the canoe, Todd and I talked and joked. Beautiful. Perfect.

We had figured out later that with all the oxbows in the river we’d canoed 20 miles that way. But if we drove that distance on the nearby highway, it was actually about 5 highway miles.

Todd and I had decided that we were nervous about the snow forecast, as we didn’t bring any winter gear. We would need to end the trip that day. Never mind the fact that our clothing was still damp. Todd had seen in the guidebook a place to pull out that was about 5 miles away from Wells River, by the road, not by the river.

We canoed on. We saw a pair of kayakers on the river. We saw a river guide trying to get his boat up the bank, on to the trailer. We watched from the river as the guide and 2 other people were working to pull this boat out.

We trudged on to Newbury, where we would be pulling out. We beached the canoe on the boat launch, leashed the dogs and walked up the hill to access the situation.

Looking at the map, Todd said "OK, we're 5 miles away, and one of us is going to have to get the car on foot."

"OK, I'll go," I said.

To be continued.

CT River Canoe Trip Part 7

Griffen and Nemo at our campsite on Howards Island, CT River.

"Todd, where are the dogs?" I asked.

“I don’t know. But we’re on an island. Where are they going to go?”

“Good point.” I dropped the subject and got back into the discussion about dinner. A few minutes later I decided I’d better find my dogs.

I called out to them, and they came back. While they were exploring the island they found the single smelliest spot on earth. Being dogs, they decided to roll into it, and cake the stink into their ears. They were both covered in a black, tar-like substance, the odor of which still haunts my dreams.

I brought them to the edge of the river and threw them in. Once to wash them and a few more times after that for revenge. We decided that the boys would not be sleeping in the tent with us that night.

We had dinner, watched the sunset, laughed about the day’s events and listened to the radio. The weather forecast predicted snow in the higher elevations for the next few days. Snow in September, you gotta love Vermont. We discussed the idea of ending the trip on the next day, should the weather turn, and how to get back to the Cherokee, upstream.

We tied the dogs to a tree, and then went to our tent. We snuggled down, as it was getting cold without the sun. That’s when we heard it.

“AROOOOOOOOO!”

“AROOOOOOOO!”

“AROOOOOOOOO!”

Thus is the cry of a pampered beagle who demands a warmer place to sleep. A warmer place such as, say, the tent where the people are sleeping.

We discussed the pros and cons of allowing them to sleep with us. We decided that a stinky sleep was better than no sleep. I rearranged our sleeping bags, and Todd left the tent to get the dogs. I unzipped the flaps, preparing to shiver while I slept, in the interests of breathing clean air.

Todd brought the stink mutts in, and we all went to sleep like one smelly happy family.

To be continued.

The CT River Canoeing Trip, Part 6


“Dammit! The maps just slipped right out of my hands.”

“That’s OK, we’ll find a spot, let’s just keep going,” I said, "Besides, we still have the large maps in the map case. We can look at those when we get to a campsite."

We paddled on for a little while and I noticed a little blue sign with a picture of a tent and a pine tree on it. I remember seeing a picture of that in the guidebook.

Todd saw it too, “Look, there’s one of those signs for the campsite. Let’s stop there.”

We beached the canoe, and explored the site. The sign said that we were on Howard’s Island. I don’t know who Howard is, but I like that he has his own island, and he’s cool enough to let us stay there.



We hauled our wet gear over to the fire ring. Luckily Todd had the foresight to pack us each an outfit in a dry bag. So at least we had something dry to wear. Todd MacGuyvered up a clothesline for us, and I spread out our remaining wet clothes, while Todd started the fire. This is me, looking H-O-T in my super fab sweatpants and bandana by Todd's impressive clothesline. What am I doing? Am I actually watching the clothes dry?


Magically our sleeping bags didn’t get wet. We were so happy to have dry bedding to sleep in. We put up the tent and laid out our bags.

We contemplated dinner, when I asked Todd “Where are the dogs?”


To be continued.

CT Canoe Trip Part 5

Just to recap the trip so far. We camped in Ellington, CT, and in Lake Luzerne, NY. Here's a picture of me and Todd's Mom on a 4 wheeler at Lake Luzerne:



We bought a canoe, and dropped it into the CT River at Wells River, Vermont:



This is Todd and the Gravy Boat at the entry site in Wells River:



Now, where were we....

Oh yes. The boat capsized within a few hours of the beginning of the trip down the river.

“What happened?” I howled at Todd. I stood up in the water, which was up to my mid-thigh. I could feel the welt forming on my right shin; I had bashed it against the rock on the bottom. My whole shin was on fire.

Griffen swam, his tongue lolling out with glee, a vacant look of bliss in his big, brown eyes. Nemo, however was not amused with the water. He was swimming toward the Vermont side of the river. Unfortunately Interstate 91 is on the Vermont side river bank.

“Go after Nemo. I’ll bail us out.” Todd said. I hobbled through the water, which rapidly dropped to chest deep. I swam/waded after Nemo, calling out to him. He was having none of it, and wanted out of the water. By the time I got to the edge of the river, Nemo was half way up the bank and climbing. The highway was at the top of the river bank. I was starting to get scared that he’d make it all the way to the highway.

I scaled up the bank after him, and managed to get my hands on him. I slid down the bank and held him as I got back into the water. By the time I’d gotten a hold of Nemo, Todd had bailed the canoe and came to our side of the river. I got back into the canoe, and Todd filled me in on the damage.

“Everything’s soaked, Beej. We need to find a campsite, so we can start a fire and get our things dried out.”

“Fine with me”

“I am looking at the map right now… CRAP!”

“What’s wrong?” I turned around to see that the maps Todd had laminated before we left were floating on the current of the river, never to be seen again.

To be continued.

CT River Canoe Trip Part 3

Morning at my in-laws house in Rutland found Todd poring over the yellow pages. We drove to the outdoor outfitting store in town and didn't find a canoe big enough for all our gear and 2 dogs. We did, however, find life jackets.

We went back to the house and back to the yellow pages. Todd called a store in Burlington, VT that had 17’ canoes. Burlington is a 2 hour drive from Rutland, so back into the Cherokee.

We picked out a red canoe, and tied it to the roof of the car. We stopped by the local West Marine and got some stick on letters, and pin stripe stuff. All the way back to Rutland we debated on what to name this canoe. As you know, our sailboat is named Sabine, and that took ages to come up with.

Todd and I are boat name snobs. We often ride our dinghy through anchorages and mooring fields and laugh at the dumb things that people name boats. I wonder how many people think they are being original when they name their boat things like “Wet Spot” or “Aquaholic.” I hate it when you can obviously tell that an accountant bought a boat, because they always call it something like “Liquid Asset” or “Cash Withdrawal.” Gah!

We decided that if we gave our sailboat a classic name like “Sabine” then we should give the canoe a cheesy name. I came up with “Gravy” because the canoe is the “Gravy Boat.” Gah! I’ve become one of them.

The windshield wipers swished the rain off of the windshield, as we wondered if it would rain for our canoe trip, that we planned on starting the next day. We got back to Rutland, packed up the Cherokee, and got to sleep early for our big adventure in the morning.

To be continued

CT River Canoe Trip 2005 Part 2

We packed up the Cherokee, and headed west. Our first stop on this trip was Soapstone Mountain in Ellington, CT. The first few days of this week were going to be spent camping on my family land in Ellington, and on Todd's family land in Lake Luzerne, NY. By the time we got to Ellington, it was too dark to set up a camp site. Neither of us had ever camped there, so we didn't have a spot in mind. We got back into the car, headed for town (Manchester, CT) had dinner at Red Robin, and took a hotel room by the Buckland Mall. (It was surprisingly easy to smuggle dogs into this particular hotel. I think it was a Courtyard Marriot.)

We got up, got some breakfast, bought toothbrushes at Wal-Mart (because of all the things we packed, we forgot toothbrushes) and headed up to Ellington to make camp. After making camp, we went to see my Dad and brothers near by, and putter around in town when we discovered that the Cherokee was leaking oil. We found a mechanic, and managed to get some new parts and get it repaired. By the time it got fixed we were ready to go back to our campsite, chill out and call it a day.

The next day we woke up and I showed him all over the land that I played on as a child. I had named every rock when I was a kid, and I told Todd the stories behind every rock, every tree, and every little thing on that land. Then we packed up to head once again. We stopped in to wish my Grandmother a happy birthday, and continued west to Lake Luzerne.

We arrived at dusk, and made camp. We headed into town for dinner, then went to settle in for the night. The next day Todd's family joined us, and we hung out with them all day. Then to Rutland, Vermont to contemplate the necessary object for our canoe trip.

The canoe.

To be continued.

The Infamous Connecticut River Canoe Trip of 2005

Three Christmases ago Todd and I were driving back from seeing his family in Vermont for Christmas. We were driving along Route 12 on the New Hampshire side of the Connecticut River. The water was raging on the river, and we were both looking at it longingly.

"You know, we should canoe the Connecticut River," he said.

"I was just thinking that," I said.

I thought it was just one of those passing things. You know, like "Hey, we should clean the house" but it never quite happens until we're expecting company, and then we Tasmanian Devil the whole house before our guests arrive.

Fast forward to the spring. We were deciding where we wanted to vacation. For the last few years we either would sail for 10 days to 2 weeks, and we also had the 3 week honeymoon extravaganza in 2003. We decided we'd take that canoe trip on the CT River.

We looked for river guides at EMS, I took out a book about canoeing from the library so I could learn how to canoe. (There's a little more to it than just putting an oar into the water and wiggling it around.) We bought our frame-pack backpacks, a camping stove, sleeping bags, tents, freeze-dried food. We put all this stuff into a big pile in the room in the house we like to call "The Stockroom." The Stockroom contains all of our adventure gear, nicely organized on shelves so we can grab and go when the mood strikes us.

So there was this enormous pile of stuff we'd need to bring on this trip. We kept going out and buying more things to bring on the trip. What would we do for toilet facilities? We bought a toilet seat that fits onto a pail. We bought a pail and cut the bottom out of it. Weirdly enough, the pail has an American flag printed on the side of it, and now it's forever to be known as our very patriotic crapper.

We broke out our maps and guide books, and figured out where we’d put in, and where we’d take out. We figured on 4 days on the river, and then his parents would join us on the last day, camp with us and drive us back to get the car where we’d left it at the put in point.

We pondered the logistics of fitting all this stuff and the dogs into my Jeep Cherokee, and packing the Cherokee involved maneuvers you'd only see in a very complicated game of Tetris.

The only thing we didn't have was the canoe.

To be continued...