Survivor: Vermont

I am having some logistic problems currently... so far approx 250-75 miles paddled.

Made it to Enosburg falls, VT., Which had been upstream since Plattsburgh, NY (the mouth of the Saranac River into Lake Champlain). Once in Enosburg the heat began to wear on me. So the next day, Thursday 8/3, I waited until 4pm to begin paddling. Only made it 7 miles. Next day, waited out hella t-storm, 3 times. Lightning, hail, high winds. Only did 8 miles into Richford, VT. Tired, weary and on edge I stayed there that night. Next day, left again upstream on the Missisiquoi. Took an hour to barely make it half mile. It took everything I had to move forward and as exhausted as I was in just an hour I did not see the likelihood that I could continue another 80 miles upstream like that.

Just so you know, the paddle has got me in the best shape I have been in since working as a guide back in 95. Little jay would definitely have his hands full with me know. My point- I ain’t no weakling. So I turned around, paddled back downstream to Richford. ps. this took less than 5 mins.

Called paddy-o. He happened to be in Rutland, VT and came up Sunday to pick me up and drove me down to Island Pond, VT so that I could paddle these 80 miles upstream through Canada.

I had 5 awesome miles paddling through this floodplain bog through a river that was about 15 ft wide at the most. Most of the time the width was less than 10 ft. Water levels low and after paddling through a set of culverts the river closed in on me. In a bog, a flat bog. So I was having to get out of the canoe and hoist it with gear over beaver dams and blowdowns every 15 feet or so. let me tell you this is hard exhausting work trying to pull nearly 100 pounds up and over while having virtually no footing because you are sunk in moose muck to your knees. This creates a suction so it’s like doing leg lifts with weights pulling out of the muck. As I paddled and pulled further downstream on this winding river the river narrowed even more.

I was bushwhacking over clumps of vegetation trying to figure out what my next move would be each time. It started to get dark and I had no idea where I was at. So I decided to start looking for a place to camp when I realized that my bag which contained passport, wallet, headlamp, tobacco and notebook was missing. earlier, once I knew that there was a possibility that either a) I was no longer on the river, or b) the low water levels made this river nothing but a bog, I pulled over, grabbed my map case and bag to go up high on a hill to view the terrain I got stuck thigh deep in the muck.

So I threw that stuff back in the canoe. By the time I got unstuck I paddled over to the other shore. Found a tree. Climbed it and noted the pond that was on the map...which made me think I was where I should have been. Instead of climbing down I fell like 15 ft. Thank God the ground was soft because I landed straightlegged. Went back across and portaged backpack and thwart bag up a hill that was more than 45 degrees and there was no trail. So bushwhacking through this dense forest with keen water sandals, shorts, well, I was black from the moosemuck, blue from the bruising that had began in earnest and red from all the blood. Got camp set up, went to sleep. No fire, no dinner, no cigarettes, no cope.

Next morning woke up sore and worried about insidious infection from bog. Covered cuts in alcohol sanitizer and Neosporin and headed out to find wallet/ passport bag. No luck. After 15 mins of scrambling through brush, through muck, etc, I decided the wisest course would be to abandon the search and find my way out. So I went back to where I camped, walked the ridgeline until I found a road and marked my way back to the canoe. Carried canoe through that brush up that hill which was me kneeling, pulling the canoe with all strength, having to wedge myself behind trees for leverage. Finally on top and no energy left I began the portage along the same ridgeline until I found the road.

Once on the road and my bearings straight against the map I had a 2 mile road walk back to island pond. Was able to talk bankers into allowing dad to wire money without photo id. Found a hotel that was cheap enough.

Now I have to decide whether to continue on the paddle. Either way from here, island pond, I have tiny boggy river 40 miles both directions. This is the toughest part of the trail per Jenn at NFCT who I have been in constant communication with since the beginning. Once in Maine, it’s mostly all downstream and through many lakes. But just getting there which is just 200 miles away is gonna be tough and tedious and timely as the water levels are so low and this water way goes through bog.

I have several more days to consider whether I continue with paddle and either 1) continue from here, or 2) flip forward to a better stretch or to get back on the at and at least finish that. Obviously, the latter would break me as I really want this paddle. This is the toughest thing I have ever attempted. And out here I am by myself. Nobody coming up behind with my hat that I left at the last trailhead, no town to get to for rest when needed. And the kicker is that this is what I wanted and I CAN do it. Being in survival type situations like I have several times, lost in these bogs, are not too bad as I can stay composed. But you lose your cigs and have to go without because of no money is probably been the toughest thing of all. My cell phone reception is touch and go.

Take care and best of luck.

Love,
Jason aka tds