We weren't sure how long the loop would take us. The guide book suggested 3-5 days with a possible side trip to Long Pond Mountain, a hike that would take several hours. We were planning to do the mountain hike, but the day to do it would have been day 3, and it was rainy and overcast. Vinnie was well concerned about thunderstorms and talked incessantly about them, so we decided to pack up and paddle out lest we be electrocuted by lightening or deafened by thunder or drowned in the rain or some other calamity.
There is a lot of exploring and infinite fishing that could be done on the loop, and one could add more lakes to increase travel time as well. So far as the loop goes, if one were interested, it could be completed in one long day, though with a heavy canoe, the portages would make the day long indeed.
I took the hammock and bug net down from under the tarp, and that left us a nice place to breakfast. I tried to take a lot of pictures of Vinnie, because it was the only way to get him to stop talking about the weather.
Fussing with the cooking gear.
Here we go again. The mosquitoes and biting flies were truly biblical on this carry. Fortunately, we came upon a flooded beaver pond about half way in and were able to put the canoe back in the water and paddle around the last part of the portage.
Anniversary pond, thank you, beavers.
One of several houses for the beavers. Dam building is, of course, an evolutionary trait. Beavers don't live in the dams. They build homes in the middle of the flooded pond where predators can't get them. Really amazing. Also, I'm reading a book right now that posits that beavers were the most abundant mammal in North America before the fur trade. I can't imagine how the landscape would have been changed. Seems like the whole country would have been flooded.
A big ole' nest. We didn't see anyone home.
Happy guy. The skies are clearing and the carry is over.
We stopped in at St. Regis Outfitters on our way out and chatted with Mark for a bit. He suggested staying down the rode at Polliwog Pond until the weather cleared and then going to check out Little Tupper Lake or Lake Lila in the William C. Whitney Wilderness Area. He hadn't led us astray, but first we needed some ice cream, a new rod and reel, and a place to dry our clothes.
Mission accomplished.
Peek-a-boo. I see you, you cheeky little monkey.
The wash.
Adam bought me some pint glasses many many years ago, which had various climbing knots on them. I remembered that one of them had shown a butterfly knot. I'd never tied it before, but executed them from memory to make holders for our paddles.
That evening, we drove into a little town of Tupper Lake and had a beer and a burger at a little brewery. Both were fine and tasted fantastic after a couple days in the woods. At the brewery, we had the choice of sitting inside in a vast echoy hall with bad music, or outside where a chainsaw artist was set up and executing his craft. We sat outside.
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