FAMILY PASSINGS ON THE ALLAGASH
Tuesday, July 27th, 2010
Near Crisis on the Allagash
My three trips on the Allagash have occurred during very different stages of my life: Young, middle-aged and old. My wife, Nancy, and I were young parents when we loaded our 18 foot Old Town Canoe with five year old son Adam, lots of toys and some camping gear for our first trip. Seven years later, Adam was in a whitewater kayak while I, a middle-aged Dad, navigated the river in a solo canoe. This year, I was back representing the elderly – it’s all about the senior citizens. Much has changed in the almost thirty years since my first trip. Adam is nearly as old as I was on our initial voyage and he now knows skinny dipping is not the normal way to bathe on a canoe trip. Instead of amusing him with stories and games, he now entertains us playing his guitar and singing ballads. Me, I’m old, talent free, but still telling stories – sometimes to myself.
Adam was trip instigator. He and his former fraternity brother, Brad, thought it was time to “reconnect with the old guys.” The “old guys” were Ken, Allen and I. I could fill a tome about the outdoor adventures the three of us have shared. Originally something akin to a mascot on our escapades, Adam has become an invaluable asset and mainstay. Somewhere along the journey, we adopted Brad, who now carries his weight, plenty of beer and more.
The Allagash has acquired the much deserved reputation as one of the classic wilderness canoe trips in the northeastern United States. It consists of several large and medium sized lakes, many miles of meandering river, a spectacular waterfall, historic logging sites and some whitewater, including the infamous Chase Rapids. Named after my great, great grandmother, Grandma Mosess Chase, she once ran the entire river non-stop in a birch bark canoe requiring just over 36 hours to complete the expedition. Well, she did make a couple of comfort stops. After resting for a day, she poled back upriver to her rustic lean-to at Churchill Dam. What can I say, it’s in the blood. Wildlife is abundant on the Allagash. Canada Geese, otter, deer, moose and scores of other species reside in this remote, pristine environment. If you don’t see a moose on an Allagash canoe trip, you’re either not paying attention or visually challenged. It also provides the perfect habitat for trillions of black flies.
We skipped the largest lakes and began our recent trip at Churchill Dam. A diverse paddling entourage if there ever was one: Ken paddled a wooden sea kayak, Allen a collapsible pack canoe, Adam and Brad a tandem whitewater canoe and I was in a much maligned and battered Mohawk, XL 13 solo canoe. I borrowed the XL 13 from my wife in 1991 after destroying two of my own solo Mohawks and never returned it. After years of mistreatment, the black painted words “Nancy’s Boat” are still partially visible on the floor of the heavily scarred, formerly yellow vessel. Offended river gods would eventually lash out at Ken for bringing a sea kayak on a canoe trip.
Churchill Dam is the beginning of Chase Rapids. Regular dam releases ensure adequate water levels throughout most summers. The rapids are easy Class I and II, but canoe trippers lacking whitewater experience often have difficulty negotiating them. We did Grandma Mosess proud with problem free descents. A large moose and a family of mallard ducks stood guard as we approached our planned campsite at the head of Umsaskis Lake. A noisy flock of Canada Geese entertained us throughout the evening.
We enjoyed an undemanding day traversing Umsaskis Lake and the Thoroughfare into Long Lake on the second day of our trip. Never one to scrimp on food or gear, Allen served up sumptuous grilled sirloin steaks for dinner. After some failed attempts at fishing, a smoky camp fire kept the black flies at bay and gave me good reason to retire early. I always carry an assortment of plausible excuses to turn in prematurely on a canoe trip.
We awoke to the bane of wilderness paddlers, a headwind. Not just any headwind, but a grievous, in your face, 25 MPH unrelenting northwest blow that persisted unabated for the entire day. Ken and Allen paddled low profile decked boats which minimized resistance to the wind. Not so for the boys and I with our open whitewater canoes with rocker. Rocker is a technical whitewater term for banana shaped boats that turn on a dime in steep, technical rapids. They do the same thing when the wind blows on a lake. Even the slightest error in boat angle or a delayed stroke and you’re headed in the wrong direction – fast. We earned our pay, paddling for about 16 grueling miles to welcome relief at a beautiful campsite on Round Pond. No one suggested the five mile hike to Round Pond Tower. A huge bull moose dined in shallow water about 200 feet from our campsite during the evening meal.
Midday had brought the only crisis of the trip when Ken and his sea kayak pinned on the remnants of a washed out dam at Long Lake Dam Falls. Fortunately, he was able struggle safely to shore without injury and we rescued his boat in the pool below. Lesson Number One for would be sea kayakers on the Allagash: Long, narrow boats that go straight wicked fast do not maneuver well.
The following day brought 20 miles of much gentler paddling to Allagash Falls. An impressive, forty-foot drop that tumbles precipitously over huge boulders, we spent the evening plotting potential kayak routes. Adam found a line I wouldn’t run in a heavily padded bathysphere, but there is a multi-stage, creek-like route on the far left that appears doable after setting up safety. Lacking creek boats and bravado, we decided to save that adventure for another year. The falls provided a soothing backdrop for a restful night’s sleep while dreaming about kayaking rapids never run.
The final day was an easy 13 mile paddle to Mrs. McBriarty’s landing in Allagash Village. It was 27 years ago when an aging Mrs. McBriarty met Adam, Nancy and I at this same spot to collect her $2 landing fee. Nothing has changed except she now expects customers to walk a couple of hundred yards to her house to pay the fee. Inflation isn’t part of Mrs. McBriarty’s vocabulary. I told her I’d see her on my next trip in 20 years as long as she didn’t raise the price of the landing fee. I probably won’t live to see that trip, but I’m wagering she’ll be there if I do. I wonder if she knew Grandma Mosess?
Ron Chase is an avid four-season outdoorsman and freelance writer, who co-authored the mountain guidebook, Mountains for Mortals - New England. Visit his website at www.ronchaseoutdoors.com for information on more outdoor adventures and great mountain hiking opportunities.