Allagash Wilderness Waterway (5/final)

After another cold night (although we were all warm in the tent), we awoke to another calm, foggy morning.

(As usual, click for larger pix.)



The rising sun made short work of the fog, however, and the still air left a mirror-like surface on the water.


Some hardy late-blooming flowers (somewhat the worse for wear) were still hoping to attract any bugs that remained unfrozen.


Sun on the shore, fog on the lake...


It was beautiful to watch the morning evolve.





Remember all the waterbirds on the lake last night? From time to time, the results of their preening would slowly drift by on the lake's gentle current.



When the fog was gone, a spectacular, still morning remained.


We headed out to explore the lake and to gather firewood. Our ripples were the only thing disturbing the lake's surface.


Click to enlarge this next picture. Just imagine sitting in the middle of a silent lake, cool air in your lungs, warm sun on your shoulders, with a glassy surface stretching away in all directions...




We landed at another (vacant) campsite to scrounge for deadwood, and saw this (below; it shows better in the larger size). I didn't feel so bad about the scratches on my own canoe afterward--- mine were nothing like this, and this wasn't even in the river but rather where a canoe was deliberately beached. I don't know what brand canoe left this much plastic behind--- you could pick up chunks of it off the rock--- but the canoe must have had a hull made of crayon.




Looking back out our (invisible) camp site, across the lake. The small campsites are widely-spaced so as not to spoil the serenity.


More hardy flowers, in their last days.

Raccoons, otters, or some other critters had routinely feasted on the lake's abundant mussels here.

A pair of mergansers glides by...

The larger photo will let you see the little tufts on the back of their heads.

Foliage reflected in the lake; the ripples are from the mergansers.


What a spot!

We variously poked around the lake, snoozed in the sun, and took advantage of the warm air and (relatively) warm lake water to thoroughly bathe. After days of heavy paddling in the same clothes, campfire smoke, bug repellent, and sunscreen, I *really* needed a cleaning; I almost thought I'd leave a ring around the lake.... ;-)

(OK, OK, not really. I used a bio-safe mild camp soap and got as little into the water as possible. Although it's impossible to exist and have absolutely zero impact on the world, the four of us did make a real effort to leave the scenery there as unspoiled as we found it. Most of the campers before us had done the same thing, and the campsites were mostly impressively clean.)

The washcloth cleanups of the previous few days had been OK, but it felt really good to bathe head to toe and put on all fresh clothing. Certain parts of my body saw direct sunlight for the first time in a long time, and I'm sure the blindingly white flesh, if not the body parts themselves, caused psychological trauma to at least a few fish. They're probably still in therapy.

But by dusk, we all felt--- and smelled--- better.

After dinner, we watched a mature bald eagle gyre over the lake, then he swooped low along the surface. We hoped he'd catch a fish, but he came up empty. Here, he's starting a diving turn to the right, his white tail feathers clearly visible:

The eagle over the elms and other hardwoods made a nice dusk picture:

The loons came out at dusk, too. If you look closely in the larger-sized version of this picture, you can see this one's amber eye. (He was probably thinking. "If you look closely, you can see that human's weird blue eyes.") I was the one with opposable thumbs, though, so I got the picture. ;-)

A minor front blew through that evening. No rain, but the clouds interacted with the hills to produce wonderful ripples and waves.

We fell asleep to the sound of loon calls.

OK, and maybe a little snoring too.

The next morning, our last on the Allagash, featured the now-familiar fog which rapidly burned off to reveal another mirror-like lake surface.

A pair of feeding loons swam by to say farewell.

We had a several mile paddle against the current to get to where we'd parked the second vehicle. I have no photos of that stretch which involved some hard paddles and several wadings in the shallows, but we did see a cow moose and an almost full-grown calf along the way.

I did a very stupid thing. I was first to spot the moose, and alerted my co-paddler. Soon after, the moose saw us and clattered and splashed their way out of the river, crashing through the brush at the edge of the woods. (Moose are not subtle creatures.)

That part was fine. But I was excited at seeing them and --- dumb, dumb, dumb--- turned to alert the canoe following behind us, some distance away. "Two... moose!" I shouted, spacing the words so our distant friends would clearly hear.

Of course, that also meant that every forest animal in the area also clearly heard me. Instantly, they all knew that humans were on the river, and that at least one of them was dumb and noisy. Sigh. It was a true city-slicker moment.

Need I say it? We saw no unusual animals for the rest of the short paddle.

So, we paddled and poled and dragged the canoe upstream to the take-out point--- this bridge--- and arrived a bit ahead of the second canoe.

You can see the newer steel beams supported by the much older weathered wooden piers.

I believe the angle of the logs is at least partially intentional, so the force of floating logs and/or ice that struck the bridge (from the right; the upstream side) would create a downward force on the pier, rather than a purely horizontal force. It looks rickety, but fully loaded logging trucks flew across the bridge without even slowing.

The upstream sides of the piers are protected with V-shaped steel deflectors, like ships' prows.

Here comes the second canoe, being dragged through the shallows:

With that, and a 7 hour drive home, the trip was done. (We had to drive 100 miles total [160km] on logging roads just to get back to public roads; roughly half of it to get back to the first vehicle at the put-in point, and the rest to exit the private lands.)

Thanks for paddling along!