Canoe camping always presents a series of challenges and opportunities and over the course of three days near the end of September 2022, I faced challenges from nature that pushed my canoeing limits, yet discovered opportunities to capture some wonderful photographs.
The forecast was for winds 5 to 10 miles per hour for almost everyday that week. What I faced, especially on day one, were headwinds that kicked up white caps across the lake and made it nearly impossible to make forward progress in my canoe. Camper...my Old Town Canoe...is a venerable craft and I love it. It is especially good on flat water and quite adequate on flowing water, but the winds on the first day of my three day outing pushed old Camper to its limits and challenged my canoeing skills to near the breaking point. It's a discerning canoer who knows when to pull off the water because of the winds, and I very nearly did.
Canoes are wonderful vessels, but limited in their ability to weather choppy waters. I stayed as close to the bank as I could as the winds tended to moderate some along the edges, but at times the very closeness to the ridge that rose from the waters edge tended to compress the winds causing them to intensify. There were times I literally was standing still as I flailed away with the paddle. The last quarter mile from my destination I almost turned back because I could not make any progress, but was able to slide over into a somewhat protected cove where the intensity of the wind dropped to about half. With one final effort I made landfall at the gravel beach I was to call home for the next couple of nights.
The winds were typical of the season, where each day early on it was quite still, almost calm, but by mid morning they started to kick in and by midday the blow was on and the blow lasted all afternoon almost until dusk when they moderated once again and stayed gentle through the evening. Fishing was pretty much out of the question as the wind made it impossible to fish from a canoe, but that was a secondary objective for this outing. My primary purpose was simply to get away and enjoy a few days out afield and to seek out photographically what Barren River Lake offered on this early Fall outing. I've always believed in order to capture the best possible light, you must place yourself in a position to do so. This particular time, I had to really work at it to get there, but the rewards were soon to reveal themselves as the fall colors were further along that expected this early in the season.
In spite of the wind, the weather was simply glorious. Bright blue sky, daytime highs in the low 70's and the night time lows fell all the way to as low as the upper 30's on the first night and the mid 40's on the second night. Using some paracord and a few whittled down sticks for supporting poles I pitched a makeshift tarp shelter a few yards from the waters edge. I had to do some excavating to create a flatten area upon which I could lay flat without feeling like I was going to roll down hill. Plenty of firewood lay scattered across the beach and inside the wooded area behind my campsite.
Peter was a disillusioned young man from upper middle class Connecticut who became disgruntled with America and he felt like he truly did not understand or know what his country was all about. So he decided he'd find out by walking across it with his faithful dog Cooper. During his adventures he encounters all kinds of people, good and bad, weathers numerous storms and even almost dies from the flu, but in the end he rediscovers his country. In this first book, he travels down the Appalachia Trail starting in New York and works his way south to cross Georgia, Alabama, then arches into Tennessee, then eventually makes his way to New Orleans. It's a great adventure. His second book titled The Walk West is where he heads west to eventually end up on the Pacific coast. I'll be reading that one again too...after I re-read another true adventure book titled "Dove". Dove is about a 16 year old boy who sails around the world solo back in the early to mid-60's. It is truly a grand adventure and I'm looking forward to re-reading it again.
The first morning came early enough and I was hoping there would be some fog on the lake. At first light, I crawled out of my sleeping bag, shivered in the morning chill, and was greeted by a wonderful ghostly fog that danced across the surface of the water. I quickly setup up the video camera and paddled into this apparition of the morning and managed to capture several photos, and video sequences. It could not have been much better. Along with this post, I will be posting a 15 minute Beyond the Campfire Adventure video which captures much of this unique morning...(Video).
Before the winds kicked up, I managed to paddle further up the lake about a mile or so just to see what was there, hoping to do some fishing, and maybe find another campsite. About the time I got there, the winds started in again and I was forced to turn around and head back to my original location.
By the time I arrived the wind had cranked up into another blow creating a few whitecaps on the open water so I pulled out and spent some time exploring the woods behind that gravel beach.
The afternoon was warm, but windy, and as I inclined against a makeshift backrest, I heard some noise behind me. One of the fattest squirrels I've ever seen ran down the tree trunk and stopped about 8 feet or so from where I was. His coloring was unusual in that his back was graying, while his sides were red, and he had a white muzzle. He simply stared at me seemingly not knowing who or what I was.
He never did appear spooked. I did not have my camera nearby, so I just watched him. When I stood to retrieve my camera, he scampered up the tree to hide on an elevated limb.
Most of the afternoon I simply relaxed and took several photos of the wooded area behind my site, and contemplated what I was going to do that evening and the next morning. I did manage to do some fishing off the bank and on one corner of this point that was my campsite where several large rocks extended into the water, I managed to catch three bass. Nothing of real consequence, but fun none-the-less. At least I did not get skunked.
I read well into the evening absorbed by the adventure that Peter experienced all those years ago. My heart tells me just how grand and amazing an adventure such as that would be, but that was a young man's adventure and what I was doing over these three days was more inclined to what my older self was capable of accomplishing.
The next morning dawned bright and clear and even though there was a gentle breeze already kicking up, a light wispy fog hugged the surface of the lake and when the sun peaked over the top of the ridge, it set alight, stirred, and caused the thin layer of fog to dance across the surface. Once again I setup the video camera, and paddled into this most delightful of mornings. By the time I broke camp and stowed my gear in the bow of Camper, the morning was well on its way. It would take a couple of hours of steady paddling to return to the ramp where my ride was to catch up with me later on. At least I had a tail wind most of the way back and by the time I made it to the ramp, the wind was already driving other boaters off the lake.
Along the way I managed some fishing, but mostly I just contemplated just how amazingly beautiful this portion of the lake is. The fall colors were well on their way, even this early in the season, and the contrast of the yellows, greens, reds, and oranges against the brilliant blue sky became a fitting end to a very good and relaxing three days on the lake.
