DESTINATIONS
Twenty-nine
Mile Paddle
on the Bog River Flow & Low's Lake - Adirondack Park, New York
Sit-on-topKayaking.com's
annual Fall Expedition By Athena Holtey
(No photos or text to be copied without permission. Travel References,
Books & Maps: Click here)
To read the reviews click
here.
"Look,
look! It's a bald eagle!"
It
swooped across the lake and perched on top of a tall pine, then launched
again, this time soaring right over the bow of my kayak.
This
was our first day of five on Lows Lake, a wilderness area of Adirondack
Park, NY accessible only by paddling in through the Bog River Flow from
Low's Upper Dam carry.
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Our
trip started the previous weekend at Horseshoe Lake, about a
mile up the road from Low's Lower Dam put in.
Here
Tom & I rendezvoused with the rest of our party:
Long
time friend of Tom's, Mike of Boston; long
time friend of mine, Jody of Norwalk, CT; and a new friend,
Shawn of New York.
While waiting for their arrival we set up camp for a cold
windy Saturday night on the lakeshore.
Photo: Riding into Horseshoe Lake
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| Sunday:
Horseshoe Lake. Overcast, windy, 35 to 55 degrees f.
In
the morning Tom and I took the brief ride to check out the Lower
Dam put in. It was beautiful; perfect for the launch; nice parking
lot; and, as fate would have it, we met two kayakers out for the
day in Aquaterra/Perception Prisms.
| John
and Jerriann Aiken are owners of John's Outdoor Sports in Queensbury,
NY. They are now Dealers for and fans of Heritage Kayaks; but
today these "top kayakers" were out for a spin in two eight
year old vessels that obviously had many miles under their hulls.
"There
isn't any condition sit-on-tops can't handle," boasted John.
"We've paddled them all over the Northeast."
Photo:
John & Jerriann Aiken in veteran AquaTerra Prisms, Low's
Lower Dam
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We
then returned to camp and launched the kayaks on Horseshoe Lake for
a day paddle to investigate a stream we thought might bypass the dam
and lead into the Bog River Flow. It appeared too narrow and shallow,
so we paddled around for the rest of the afternoon.
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Tom & Cobra's Expedition
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Tom
was in the Cobra Expedition; I in the Islander Ventura. Staying
in the lee of the South shore, we waded underneath the trees
among the water lilies, eating our lunch, then continued around
the perimeters of the lake.
We
were used to windy conditions on the tropical coastlines of
the Hawaiian Islands, but I gained a new respect for the inland
winds that surprised us that Sunday afternoon. Twenty miles
per hour with gusts up to forty-five!
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We
were paddling in place! The tree beside me on shore didn't move
for 20 minutes, and I was exhausted! But the boat performed beautifully!
Stable and dry, and not being one to use a rudder, I was still perfectly
secured in the choppy whitecaps and forceful winds.
Tom
was far ahead in Cobra's fast new touring boat, but finally, I began
to make progress and upon arriving at our campsite, didn't mind
a dip in the 55-degree water. A quick dip...a very quick dip!
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| That
evening everyone arrived, set up camp and we planned out a launch
schedule for Monday. Tom and I had prepared laminated topo maps
of the planned route for each paddler. Jody had the flu, but
insisted on going anyway. Shawn, a chemist, suggested she eat
fresh garlic to kill whatever it was she had.
Needless
to say, she spent the night, alone, in her car, sleeping it
off...and it seemed to work. Of course her car has had a certain
aroma ever since.
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Heritage's Expedition MK II
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Low's
Lower Dam: Monday: morning, 45 degrees; warming up to the 60's f.
by noon.
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We
got a late start, 1:30 in the afternoon, but the urgency to
find a campsite before dark couldn't daunt our excitement over
the beautiful eight or so miles of fall scenery we glided through
along the way. Low's Lower Dam is a popular day paddle for locals
of about 7 miles round trip |
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| to
the Upper Dam. Mr. A. A. Low, original owner of the 40,000 acres
he used for timber and maple syrup, began building the two dams
in 1903. His company failed as a result of the fire of 1908.
Nearly a century later, the forest is regrown; the wildlife
abundant. |
We
had five kayaks and Shawn's canoe. Three of us were packing our
gear into boats we'd never toured in before, so the large dry bags
were a struggle. Jody had her Heritage Nomad-II; Mike, Ocean Kayak's
Scupper Pro; Tom, the Cobra Expedition; myself, Heritage's New Expedition
MK II; and Shawn, a skilled canoeist and still not so sure about
kayaks being able to do the job, brought the canoe as a cargo boat
for his typical "everything including the kitchen sink" packing
method and his photo equipment. By the end of the trip he was converted,
claiming Islander's dry, stable Ventura as his favorite.
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Low's Upper Dam Carry
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Loons
called out to each other, sounding so lonesome and sad, even
ghost like. There were two or three families of loons escorting
us along the way.
The
fall foliage was at about 80 percent peak; the water like
glass; the weather clear and cool: just right for a long paddle.
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Rail Road Bridge late 1800's
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| We
stopped for lunch at the upper dam, unloading our boats and
carrying them to the Upper Dam launch area. Behind stretched
Hitchin's Pond bordered by primitive wild forest; before us,
the next half of our journey down the Bog River into Lows Lake. |
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Jody & her Heritage Nomad-II
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The
Bog River Flow area is dotted with 39 campsites; some located
on islands in the lake. We preferred to look for an island campsite
due to the threat of bears, as they are known to be abundant
in the area. However, when darkness began to approach Monday
night and our party became separated along the paddle route,
any campsite would do.
Remember, when planning any adventure, always error on the side
of too much time. It affords you the luxury of choosing the
best campsites and of truly enjoying the journey, rather than
just enduring a challenge. |
| Of
course, if you are a Hobbit fan, you know the best stories told
around the campfire are those that were the hardest to endure...but
even without being unprepared or late in your launch the outdoors
offers enough challenges to keep the most adventurous of us
telling our tales. Now back to mine: |
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Tom
made sure we had fresh batteries in three radios. He, as lead kayaker
took one; (see article: Group
Paddling Techniques) Mike and Shawn as sweep took a second; Jody
and I in the middle, the third.
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A
floating bog is an area of spongy marsh; a large one was recorded
on the topo map, appearing to block access to the rest of the
flow, about a mile from the Upper Dam put in; but a side stream
allowed us to pass. We had to get out of our kayaks for maybe
eight to 12 feet in order for them to float across the shallow
river bottom.
Now
late in the afternoon, the sun was glaring in our faces as
we headed due West. I kept my compass out, but the sun was
a dead give away for direction.
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Left:
Guiding out boats around the
floating bog; Above: Floating Bog,
a "spongy" marshland.
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The
less experienced tourers were enjoying the glide into Lows; but
Tom and I were concerned it would get too dark to find a site, so
he chose a "shortcut" through a break in the South shoreline. It
looked on our topo maps like a clear path to site #14, our closest
choice.
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Portage: You couldn't do this
alone without good wheels
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Paddling
now eight full miles, interrupted only by a strenuous carry
at the Upper Dam, Jody's flu symptoms began to return, and my
head was pounding from paddling into the sun for the last hour.
We were ready for a shortcut.
In
preparation for the trip we had read that on July 15, 1995
a wind storm rocked the area flattening thousands of acres...after
the Horseshoe event, I could imagine the kind of wind. A great
effort has been made to restore the area, but "blow downs"
still jam shallow areas of the lake. We were headed for such
a jam.
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| Tree
stumps rubbed up under our kayaks; smaller floating bogs and
beaver dams didn't help either. Our three kayaks made it precariously
through; but no way could the cargo canoe survive. I radioed
Shawn and Mike as soon as I realized this, unaware of how far
behind they were.
"Do
you guys have your maps out? Don't come this way. We're stuck,
the canoe will not make it through." The radio cracked as
Shawn said, "Please repeat."
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Shawn in Islander's Ventura
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I
tried, but there was just silence. We couldn't safely turn around,
so hoped the combined experience of these veteran outdoorsmen would
result in them applying their good instincts to the task. We weren't
disappointed.
Site
#14! The sky was a baby blue and pink glow as the sun began to disappear
behind a mountain; but the campsite was taken by an older couple
fishing lazily off-shore.
"Keep
paddling...." Tom was worried and tired, looking over his shoulder
for the rest of our group.
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"I'll
sprint ahead," I said. "Just tell me what I'm looking for."
I was happy to be in the Heritage Expedition this time, perhaps
the smoothest maneuvering of the boats in our fleet.
"There
should be a campsite on a point of land to the North, #13,"
he yelled. "Hopefully Shawn and Mike got your message. If
they come around the other side they'll be able to see a light
out there."
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| I
swept around a beautiful protrusion on our North and found myself
in a calm, pretty, little lagoon. The campsite was there; and
it was empty! Unfortunately, as we would find out later, the
campsite was also on a point of land facing into the wind; not
a good idea in late September where the temperature could drop
to 30 f. at night, and so far had only barely reached 60 f.
during the day. |
We
quickly landed and began bringing our gear up out of the boats.
Tom took his radio and sprinted across a beaver dam along the lagoon
to the top of the next hill for a clear line of sight, successfully
contacting our separated party.
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Mike spots our campsite
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"We
just heard: 'Do you have your maps out' and 'don't come this
way...' then nothing," reported Shawn. "It's a good thing, because
I didn't have my maps out."
The
campsite was surrounded by blueberry bushes with a scent about
it that indicated that a bear may have claimed it as his territory;
despite the fact that passing kayakers along the route had
seen a bear, the ranger explained they "...go on vacation
during hunting season. I don't know how they know," he said,
"but they do."
All
weary paddlers accounted for we set up camp. Shawn warmed
up some frozen chili he brought from home, and I crashed in
our tent, falling asleep to the call of a loon, the low resonating
hoots of a great horned owl and the contented hum of voices
from around the campfire.
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Tuesday:
morning, 40 f. to 50 f. daytime, 70's f. water temp 59 f.
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Exploring a grassy pond
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The
ski was blue and clear. Tom and Mike kayaked across the lagoon
and hiked to a high point of land, "bagging a peak" as they
have done many times growing up in the Northeast together. The
rest of us took off on our own, exploring islands and inlets.
Watching
loons, and watching for bears, we took photos of a rare site,
a bald eagle. The guidebook said one hadn't been seen here
since 1985. Jody found a sandbar to practice her Yoga stretches;
I explored a pretty little water garden of grass and fall
foliage.
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View from a mountain top
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"I
think if we asked for better weather we'd be struck by lightening,"
exclaimed Mike. They bathed in a shallow sand bar, heated by
the sun; but the next day was even better; 80 degrees! This
would be the day of our four-hour hike to the Oswegatchie River
after paddling 4 or so miles from our campsite. |
Morning on glassy Low's Lake
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Wednesday:
morning, 50's f. daytime, 80! f.
We had read about the portage to the Oswegatchie River from
Lows lake as a well traveled path used as far back as the turn of
the century. Originally we thought rather than go back the way we
came, some of us could leave our cars at a small parking area called
"Inlet" and then the paddle journey could end there after cruising
the 16 mile downstream flow from the Lows portage. Boy, are we glad
we decided to hike it first to scout it out for a future trip!
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Again,
we failed to plan out time very well. From the beginning we
were delayed when we found the landing at the Oswegatchie Carry
to be a foot or more deep of mud soup! A dryer bit of beach
in the center of it all, enough for one kayak at a time, would
have been the cleanest and safest choice.
A clear, sunny day, most of us wore our sandals instead of paddling
shoes, bringing our dry hiking boots in a zip lock bag for the
8 mile round trip walk. Two of us got our sandals caught under
a branch in the mud and nearly went down. Very hazardous landing. |
The
windstorm of 1995 made it virtually impassible! As a hike, we'd
rate it "difficult." Others before us signed a little book at the
halfway point with cartoon pictures of a canoeist hefting his boat
over trees, cursing the air. We now fondly refer to it as "The canoe
portage from Hell."
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Trail
head: Mud Soup!
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To
Big Deer Pond
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Detour
from blow downs
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The
Oswegatchie!
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Apparently,
the entire Bog River area is easier to travel than it was in the
1800's. One guide back then called it "the confoundest crookedest
consarns in the woods." Another, speaking of spring: "the gloomiest
sheet the wilderness contains where each member of the insect tribe
holds high carnival." (see Jamieson & Morris "Adirondack Canoe
Waters-North Flow")
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Big Deer Pond
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But
it was fall, most of the bugs were asleep and despite the arduous
hike, there were some beautiful scenes: Big Deer Pond, the easiest
and most beautiful part of the carry. We also saw Blue Heron,
a silver fox, and startled several grouse.
Although there are no public roads into Lows, floatplanes do
make a seasonal business of bringing hunters into the area.
On our way back to our campsite that evening, as red and orange
clouds swirled in the sunset behind us, a floatplane took off
out of a cove nearly missing our path. |
Tom,
always safety cautious, brought light sticks for everyone and
flashlights for our life jackets. He insisted we put them on
before launching to head home, even though it appeared we had
plenty of time before dark. By the time we were halfway across
the lake, we were grateful. Shawn made it back to camp first,
having skipped the hike for an exploration and photo shoot of
Grass Pond. Lanterns hanging on trees and his homemade Chili
on the stove, we all arrived safely.
Photo: "Paddling back to camp, darkness fell swiftly." |
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Sitting
around the campfire looking up through the trees, the night was
so clear; the Milky Way shamelessly showing off across the skies
of this forest wilderness; but a check on our weather radio sent
the guys with a renewed energy, securing everything in camp: a wind
storm was coming.
Stringing
tarps up to give us a wind block and shelter for cooking was a smart
move. Tom and I secured all the kayaks on higher ground, tying them
up to the trees; bringing the fiberglass boat ashore. We all tightened
up the ropes and stakes on our tents and anchored anything that
wasn't attached to the ground; banking the evenings fire.
Thursday:
morning mid 30's to 40's f., daytime, not much better!
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Tieing up tarps to brace our kitchen
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The
winds were 40 to 50 miles per hour with gusts up to 65! Thanks
to the weather radio, we were ready. It rained most of the day;
the wind was incredible and at one point took out the tarps
in an explosion of plastic; but after our full lower and upper
body workout the day before we were happy to weather out a day
in camp. Jody and I visited in her tent, read, rested; and Tom
and Mike hiked to the top of a nearby hill to see the conditions
of the waterway that would be our way home.
"It's
like glass over there," he said, relieved incase the wind
should continue into Friday.
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Mike: Zen Master of blueberry pancakes.
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It
was also our last day in camp before starting the eight mile
journey homeward. This was the first trip that Tom & I relied
on pre-packaged dehydrated foods. We tested the line of Adventure
Foods; natural products that were surprisingly good...and cleanup
was a snap.
But
today we feasted on our perishables: fresh perked hazelnut
coffee with bacon, ham and scrambled eggs for breakfast ala
Shawn.
Late
in the afternoon Jody picked a bowl of blueberries from the
bushes of our camps "vacationing" bear, while Mike stirred
up a batch of his blueberry pancakes for our evening meal.
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Shawn: Master
outdoor chef
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The
wind blew into the night. I woke about 2:30 a.m. absolutely convinced
"the bear" was outside our tent. "Humph...thump...humph...thump...."
Huddled frozen in our sleeping bag, with my heart beating out of
my chest, covering Tom's mouth incase he should snore, I imagined
"the bear" searching his bushes for the stolen berries, stalking
Shawn's bacon pan sitting in the dish water, (a week of no bears
made us careless) and pawing at the ropes that hoisted our food
into the trees; but no bear. Jody & Shawn were just as convinced
something came into camp; Tom & Mike slept through the whole
thing. Apparently, so did the bear.
Friday:
morning, overcast 40's f. daytime, clear & sunny, 65 f.
In
the morning, nothing had been disturbed. We were grateful for our
Bakepacker cooking system of dehydrated natural food. It made for
a hearty breakfast and a quick clean up. Then, the tents and tarps
came down; boats were drained of any water taken on in the storm;
dry bags were packed and stuffed into hatches; layers of clothes
went on then came off. We were up at 7 a.m. and still getting ready
to launch by 10:30. The wind died, it was sunny and calm, so we
were off.
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During the trip we tried
each other's kayaks
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I
didn't remember the paddle in being this beautiful. Great Blue
Herons stalking the reeds, more loons, a Golden Eagle soaring
overhead, and the golds of fall had finally arrived!
It was like paddling inside a Sierra Club calendar! We casually
made our way, taking pictures or sometimes just pausing to marvel
at it all. |
Tom in the "home streach."
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| Arriving
at the Upper Dam we stopped for lunch to finish off the last
of our provisions. Noticing an older gentleman sunning himself
on a grassy stretch of land, Shawn asked him to take our picture.
We
then made our way back through Hitchin's Pond, down the Bog
River to the take out at the Lower Dam.
The
old gentleman was right behind us in his canoe.
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The
guys helped him and his godson with their gear and in making
introductions discovered he was Seth Low, seventy-nine year
old sole survivor of A. A. Low!
None of the land remained in the family, but Seth wanted to
paddle up there that day to show his godson the remains of his
great grandfather's house that he remembered visiting as a three
year old. The beautiful stonework foundation still stands.
Trip end: Shawn, Jody, Seth Low, Tom, Athena, Mike |
Ready
for showers and a hot meal, we retreated to the small town of Tupper
Lake at the Red Top Inn where we had reserved rooms for the night.
A steak dinner at the local country club, a good bottle of wine,
a great night's sleep, and that was it, our long anticipated expedition
in the Oswegatchie Canoe Wilderness was over; but no one wanted
to go home...that is until the rain began pouring down and the temperatures
dropped.
Realizing
how good Mother Nature had been to us that short, amazing week,
we said our good-byes to new friends and old, driving off to our
separate destinations.
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back
to top
Travel Information for the Oswegatchie Canoe Wilderness Area:
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Paddling
Season: When the waters are free of ice: May - October
-
Busy
Season: July - August
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Bug
Season: May - June
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Fall
Foliage Peak: Late September
-
Hunting
Season: September - October
Mountainman
Outdoor Supply Co. rents kayaks and canoes. Touring sit-on-top kayaks
are available for expeditions. Also for rent are tents, bags, cooking
kits and lanterns. Mountainman Outdoor Supply Co. is a one-stop shop for
a variety of camping and paddling gear. Two shops
in the Adirondack Park: Inlet (315) 357-6672 & Old Forge (315) 369-6672.
www.mountainmanoutdoors.com
Also,
see our Nature Issues section: "The
Oswegatchie Canoe Wilderness Proposal"
Books & Maps:
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