An epic paddle
Fickle weather can penalize the unprepared
By DENNIS APRILL, Outdoors Columnist
As we approached the southern end of Valcour Island, coming out from a trail surrounded by a forest of spruce that almost looked like the Central Adirondacks, I felt the wind pick up, and that concerned me.
My 18-year-old son Colin and I had paddled over in our 16-foot canoe earlier on a moderately calm sea; now, that one mile of open water would be whipping up to white caps, spurred by the south wind.
"I think we have to cut the hike short," I told Colin. "I’d hate to be out there in the water with three-foot waves." Colin agreed. So we would do only the southern half of the island, then return to the canoe via the cross island trail from Smuggler Harbor.
We had put in early from the Peru boat dock off Route 9 in Valcour on Friday, June 21, the first day of summer. And it felt like it, with a warm, lazy breeze flowing up the lake bringing some haze to the Valcour Island shoreline.
It was a week before Colin would graduate from high school.
Just before casting off, I debated adding my portable canoe pontoons to the load, and at the last minute decided to do so. On the return trip I would appreciate having brought them along.
The paddle across was easy and uneventful. We landed at Indian Point south of Bluff Point, taking out on a partially submerged rock shelf. According to all the guide books, Valcour’s bedrock is limestone deposited 450 million years ago. The pockmarks made by rain showed why this rock is less resistant to weathering.
We walked through a public campsite at Indian Point, where there were a couple of tents set up, but no one was around. We wore long pants as protection from poison ivy which, we were told, is plentiful on the island. It was a short distance to pick up the Perimeter Trail that circles the 1,100-acre island for 7 1/2 miles. There are two cross-island trails, as well.
Early on, we hiked south through old fields interspersed with a forest of hardwoods and cedars. It is easy to get a sense of history on this walk. A sign pointed to the location of the famous October, 1776, naval battle in which U.S. Commander Benedict Arnold lost his ship, the Royal Savage. The remains of the Seton House are visible, and the old fields that indicate some agricultural activity at one time remain. The island today is all state land within the Blue Line.
At one mile, we reached the southern tip of Valcour, at times hiking through a much different forest, this dominated by white spruce that looked more like the interior of northern Canada than an island in Lake Champlain. Perhaps it was those winds that influenced this almost micro-climate. Whatever the reason, we moved fast up the eastern end to Smuggler Harbor, then west .8 mile by the state trail marker to Indian Point. Looking over the lake, I saw where the rollers had now become white caps. I quickly connected the pontoons to the canoe for stability; with them attached, the canoe is virtually safe from tip-overs.
However, I forgot to bring a bailing can. Even though we might not tip over, I thought to myself as we pushed off, we may have to paddle a waterlogged canoe ashore. But we did have our personal floatation devices, which are so important to have aboard any watercraft, even in calm seas.
For that last mile, I was glad to have not only the pontoons and floatation gear, but Colin’s strong paddling. He is still recovering from a fall football injury, and I thought a workout like this paddle and hike would be just the thing for him.
Since we had to paddle northeast to the dock, my plan was to let the wind partially push us in by angling toward shore. I’m sure there’s some nautical term for this, but I had no idea what it was. I just wanted to get back in one piece.
We battled some high seas, where a couple of strong strokes took us to the bottom of a wave, and we didn’t move until we were speeding along atop another one of the rollers. Needless to say, it was a rough ride.
"Paddle harder!" I yelled to my increasingly apprehensive son.
Finally, we approached the dock, and the waves began to subside. As we let the canoe float in to land, I looked toward Colin in the bow, smiled, and said, "I guess you’ll get to graduate next week after all!"