Chapter 7

Saranac Village to Union Falls Pond

As promised the morning was slow going. I set my alarm for 8 am and took my time packing and getting dressed. The forecast had been for rain all day so that wasn’t exactly motivating either. But around 9:30, I was in the boat. I went to end of Lake Flower, portaged around the dam, and was in Saranac River. I tied my boat outside of St. Regis Outfitters. After briefly visiting them before deciding I needed to eat first, I walked to Blue Moon Cafe for some hash and eggs, and stopped at Origin Coffee for an espresso. With my blood sugar up and caffeine in my veins, I returned to the outfitters.

This shop is really cool. If your gear junkie I’d take the time to go in if you’re anywhere in the area, but what’s more the employees are super helpful and accommodating. I got some chap stick cause my lips were like snake skin (ladies, please wait in line), an extra meal to be safe, and a gallon of water. I had been carrying two 3 quart jugs but left an empty in Long Lake to cut weight. Subsequently I was basically out of water on day 4, now with wheels weight is less an issue, and I didn’t want to run out of water again. My father isn’t dead, but he’d be rolling in his grave if he were…  

I hung around awhile to wait for some availability to discuss a shuttle from Union Falls to Clayburg. Ultimately I decided it was outside what I wanted to pay, but I wound up talking to a gentleman named Dave. Dave struck me as a guy who has forgotten more about kayaking and canoeing in the area than you or I would ever know. First we talked about the low water and avoiding the Teft Pond Falls rapids, etc. He suggested I try the campsite at the end of Union Falls Pond that they might have a shuttle or someone willing to drive me. I thought that was a good plan and push come to shove I had my wheels need be.

I then asked him about Champlain and any advice he had there. He said he would not hesitate to take the ferry across to South Hero Island as the open water can be treacherous especially for a small open top boat like mine. South winds apparently make Champlain particularly dangerous and rough. I asked if going early in the morning, would there be any advantage, but apparently time of day doesn’t matter and it is simply too unpredictable. And lastly the water temperature was 55 that day. That’s cold enough to be worried about hypothermia, especially when crossing open water and being unable to get ashore immediately. Doing this, alone especially, this time around was starting to sound like a bad idea. And I began thinking that Plattsburgh would be my end point for this leg.

I would highly recommend paddlers stop into St. Regis Outfitters, and even if you’re not paddling just stop in and check it out. Dave was a wealth of information and makes his own maps of the area! The NFCT maps are decent for what they are and the money goes to the trail association, but investing in some of Dave’s maps would not be a bad idea. Denise turned out to be one of the owners of Gauthier’s where I stayed the night before, and said if I needed anything to call them or the hotel (also laughed that I said I left my trash at the hotel, she teased me but said she was glad I wasn’t litterbug). Go say hi if you’re in Saranac Lake!

Finally at 12:30 I hit the water! I had already intended to take a slow day so I wasn’t too worried about the late start, which was fruitful anyway. There were some brief rips and rapids through the town that I practiced my ferrying skills on and had fun at the speed boost (6 mph!), but quickly leaving the town the river was less turbulent and ran through a marshy stretch. For a while I would paddle only to avoid a log or make the bend, and let the river to all the work.

I eventually I got back to it flushing herons out of the reeds, and one poor merganser with her chicks I followed for a couple miles before finally passing her. If she’d just let me pass or gone up stream instead she’d save her and brood the exhaustion, and hopefully the mink I saw climb in a mud burrow didn’t get one of the chicks! Soon I came to Permanent Rapids Carry.

The books I referenced took it as a given to carry around this section, and given the low water I think it was the thing to do but I wonder if it would be runnable in other conditions. I strapped on my wheels got going. Up to this point the portages may have been long, or the path was rough but this was the first I didn’t feel entirely comfortable doing. You exit river left and are in a break down lane on a road. My inclination was to cross the road to be waking into traffic so I can see what’s coming but the break down lane wasn’t so wide as it was on the right side of the road. The speed limit on that road must be 45 or 55 so you know people are doing 70. Besides the difficulty of the mile or so there was the added stress of worrying about cars.

Neither me nor my canoe got flattened by a car though, and I put in below the rapids and carried on into Franklin Falls Pond. I could have camped at the end of the portage but I was a little bit of a “party” spot and I felt good so I kept on going. There wasn’t any spots to camp here and I decided finishing the 0.3 mile carry around the dam at the end would be worth getting over with. With my wheels this was a cinch and I was back in the water in no time watching three beavers angrily slap their tails at me.

The beginning of Union Falls Pond was narrow and river like but soon opened up into a veritable lake. Not long up into the lake, I noticed something strange floating in the water. It was too small to be a beaver, was no bird I recognized, seemed too open water for a muskrat, but seemed too symmetrical to be a log floating. I got close and to my surprise whatever it was got bigger! It came out of the water. I got closer still and I realized it was an otter, periscoping out of the water to check me out! Otters aren’t particularly rare I don’t think, but for some reason I have never seen one (at least conclusively) in the wild. I was ecstatic! I lowered my paddle to the gunwales to get a picture, but it clattered some which the otter didn’t like. He snorted at me, and disappeared into the depths. I stuck around a bit but did not seen him return. As I turned my attention back to the boat I noticed my GPS read 100.0 miles! What a great treat for the first 100 on the trail!

It was around this point I realized the day was getting on (after 5 maybe closer to 6) and I try to make camp by 6. Unfortunately there aren’t many options in this section. And the closest I had was half way or more up Union Falls. I decided I had rested quite a bit so I had the juice to punch it, and a tailwind had started to pick up, and soon I was cruising around 4 mph. Somewhere in the ecstasy of my renewed vigor, I decided it would only be another hour or so of paddling to the end of the pond and decided that’s what I would do!

I don’t know what madness possessed me, as I had fully intended to keep it below 15 miles that day but I came to Union Falls Dam with the clouds clearing and the sunset lighting the west. All 21.5 miles done, and only starting at 12:30!

At the end of the pond there are some tent sites right at the take out, these are managed by the electric company I believe. I scoped these out first but seemed all to be occupied so I wheeled across the bridge to investigate the private campsite on that side (and hopefully find a ride to Clayburg instead of trudge the 8 miles). As it turned out they are seasonal so weren’t open. This was not only disheartening in that I had no place to sleep but also knowing I had 8 miles to walk in the morning. I trudged back to where I came in hopes of squeezing in somewhere.

This is when I met Linda and Chris, who I spoke with briefly on getting out of the water. As it turns out Linda was also an NFCT section paddler, having done the 90 Miler, a race from Old Forge to Saranac Lake, a few years prior. And was now hoping to do Saranac Lake to Plattsburgh with a few days off. Chris is Linda’s friend, and had come by just to check on her and support her. He was leaving shortly and offered I take the spot where his van was parked. This was a kind offer and saved me some stress.

We chit chatted some as I was making camp. Chris was confounded as to why I was doing a square lashing on my paddles instead of setting my tent up first. I explained not to worry good fellow: I’m insane and sleep under my boat, rest assured it’s all under control. We talked about the trail and our plans for the morning, and I suggested we accompany each other for the 8 miles to Clayburg which Linda agreed to. After some more chit chatting, Chris had to leave to be ready for work in the morning, and Linda, exhausted from her paddle that day, was ready to go to sleep. And soon I was tucked in under Fort Nessmuk for the night.