Chapter 14

Stony Batter to Lower Dallas Bridge

Surprise! Some bonus miles!

It was a long rainy rainy night in the tent but I stayed dry. When planning this trip according to the book, my mileage today should have been 15 miles or so. But assessing the distance by GPS several times it appeared not be between 9 and 11 miles. I knew it would be a short day to Rangley and my ride wasn’t until 7 at night, nevertheless I was antsy to get up and going and out of the wet tent. Surprisingly the rain had stopped by morning, last I heard it was supposed to go all day.

It was short but fairly windy mile long paddle across the lake to the Haines Boat Landing. In no time I was hauling my boat into town. This portage was only a mile and a half and on paving compared to the rough 3.5 of the Carry Road it seemed a breeze. Oquossoc was a neat town, I stopped at the grocery store for a breakfast burrito and coffee, and couldn’t help but get a pumpkin whoopie pie. The town seemed out of a Stephen King novel, not in a sinister spooky way, but in the quintessential small town Maine way. A couple guys stopped to ask me about canoeing and wished me good weather. One man, mouth half full of breakfast sandwich, said “have fun, stay dry!” which gave me a little smile on my way. Had it not been 8 or 9 in the morning, I would have visited the Portage Tap House if only for solidarity, though luckily I wasn’t carrying on my head anymore. A short way after the grocery (and past this remote controlled tracked stump grinder the most metal thing since Jackyl’s chainsaw solo, though he’s a hair band not metal I digress), I was down to Rangeley Lake.

The water was very calm which was a relief as the wind had been tiring on Mooselookmeguntic. Rangeley Lake was very beautiful, I wish I had had a proper camera to capture the images instead of just my phone. The fall colors of course always add a certain august beauty to a scenery, but the sweeping size of the lake ringed by the hills and mountains. To the southwest near Oquossoc a green swarth was cut out of the impregnable trees dotted with what must have been cattle. To the east by Rangeley, the buildings and homes dotting the rising hills. The Richardsons and Mooselookmeguntic (save near Oquossoc and around the base of Bald Mountain) were for the most part empty of habitation, but Rangeley Lake was littered with homes along the north shore.

The trip across the lake was easy and uneventful and before I knew it I was in the town park of Rangeley. It was only 12:30 and I had over 6 hours until my ride home! So in my madness I decided I needed to keep on: a portage to Haley Pond, a short paddle, a tromp through some woods, and then 3.4 mile portage along the road to the South Branch of the Dead River. That’s right I was going to wilfully carry my stuff for no purpose but to do it. Make hay while the sun shines!

After a quick assessment of what needed to be done, I wheeled out of the park into town and down to Ecopelagicon, the outfitter and nature store in town which is adjacent to Haley Pond. I stopped in to ask about a ride back to town after my portage so I didn’t have to change my ride plans or walk back. I did my best to explain myself to Linda, the owner of the store as far as I could tell, without sounding utterly mad. She had to make some calls to figure it out so we agreed I would have lunch and then come back.

After lunch at Furbish Brew House, and a beer to help numb the oncoming pain, I went back to Ecopelagicon. Carl, the man who was going to give me a ride was there. He had just had back surgery and decidedly would have given into the temptation of helping lift things, so Linda had called her brother who would pick me up at 5. Linda let me leave my bag and non-essentials behind her shop; I’m not sure if this disqualifies me for not taking all of my gear but my masochism only goes so far.

After chatting with Carl and Linda for a bit, I hopped into the canoe and paddled northeast. I had my book open rereading the paragraph a few times determine where the portage trail was, as all I could see was indistinct marshy shoreline of reeds. Somehow I managed to spot the tiny NFCT sign, and navigated the dead stumps and branches among the low water. This path was decidedly not wheel friendly, with several stretches of bog boards. In my haste and general lack of decorum from my tiredness, I confess I just dragged the canoe by the painter. Sacrilegious I know.

Soon I was out of the woods and in the lot of some forestry museum. Some people were milling about (pun intended) the various antique saws and other equipment, but I wasted no time and soon had the wheels on and was out onto Route 16. The shoulder was gravel and so I would walk on the pavement eyes far down the road to move aside as soon as a vehicle was seen. Wheeling on pavement is neat but I don’t like worrying about cars and semis racing by, luckily the road was relatively quiet. The sun was even shining. It was uphill until approaching the river the road began it’s downward slope. And soon I was there! An unassuming concrete bridge over and unassuming stream. It doesn’t seem the sort of bridge that would earn it’s own name, and the South Branch seemed rather mundane and un-rocky for a river that has stymied many a voyager. But alas my trip was done.

I didn’t wait long before Cliff picked me up. I had to explain no I hadn’t canoed the river I just walked to it with a canoe. He was flummoxed by this and asked why didn’t just join the Navy Seals. We laughed and I told him I’m too blind for the military. The drive back was short but we chatted about how he and Linda and his mother had come from Boston a number of years ago. I saw Linda once more before he left home for the night, but told me to ask for anything when I return to the area for my next trip. If you’re in the area check out Ecopelagicon, the are good people and have a lot of stuff in the store, books and gifts included.

Well that’s it for this trip! Likely this is the last for the season, and I might do summary post soon to talk about current miles, next year’s plans etc. Cheers!