The Doe
A doe plunges into the waters of Brookside Cove on Mooselookmeguntic Lake, adding a sound more like crash than splash to a stormy, rain-pelting afternoon. She has hit the water running. Once in the roiling waters she heads southeast, into the beating wind, in the direction of small Johnson Island, a quarter mile offshore, her head just above water. That would be a long swim for me, even on a clear day.
My paddling partners and I, five of us are on a through-paddle of the Rangeley Lakes Chain, from the Lake Umbagog National Wildlife refuge in New Hampshire to Rangeley in Maine. We have front row seats for this bit of wildlife drama from under a broad tarp we set up over the picnic table at nearby Brookside Campsite. Within the previous hour we had pulled in to what would be our camp for the night, off the roiling water just as the rain storm was intensifying, Wet, chilled, we made camp, changed into dry clothes, made some soup, and have been watching the weather for entertainment. Waves smash onto the shore of what is otherwise a quiet cove, high fir and cedar sway in the sweeping wind, rain pummels the well-secured tarp. We wonder out loud what might be the rest of the deer story. A chase?
Enter a family of loons. They have been diving for fish in the cove moments before the doe appears – undeterred by the rough weather. Now, as a body, they swim straight towards the doe. What’s up? Perhaps the loons, in their own way, out of their own surprise, are asking the same question that we do. Coyote after her? Bobcat, maybe? Is this a decoy move to distract a black bear from discovering her fawns?
The loons gather off her left shoulder, head her off, change her direction to be more parallel to the shore, and away from Johnson Island. Are they dissuading her from a dangerous crossing? The loons have long since abandoned the nest where the chicks hatched – but are they steering her away from the nest site on some form of loon principle? Now we have a doe and loons out for a swim together – a first such sighting ever for me. What is going on here?
I pull binoculars from my pack, scan the shore. No pursuing critters in sight. I didn’t really expect to see an exasperated coyote, bobcat, or bear peering out into the storm. The doe turns, heads back towards the shore from which she fled moments ago, reaches a narrow gravel bar along the fir and cedar lined shore. She hesitates, stands there, after a moment or so, steps out, shakes off water, stands there, her sleek brown head directed towards the forest beyond. Suddenly, she is gone. I assume that now, that all is well.
Spend time in the northern forest and on the northern waters, hold silences, sit, watch, listen. Do that, and do so for a good while – a half-hour, an hour, even longer – and something will happen. Creatures of the forest will make their presence known – squirrels, of course; the occasional snowshoe hare; but my own sit and watch times over the years have rendered river otter, pine marten, fisher, porcupine, deer, moose, and, a coyote or two, and a black bear. On this very same paddling trip my companions and I saw a half-dozen bald eagles. Holding silence, whispering at most, we paddled directly beneath one, perched on a high limb of a thick white pine. That eagle never moved, claiming its perch.
Umbagog and the Rangeley Lakes Chain
Welcome to the Rangeley Chain of Lakes, four large bodies of water, east to west: Umbagog Lake, North and South Richardson Lakes (one continuous body of water), Mooselookmeguntic Lake, Rangeley Lake. Over a four-day period, we five, in two canoes and one kayak, paddled up the chain, tenting or sleeping under the stars in simple water-side campsites. Our put-in point is curiously named Steamer Diamond boat launch, in Errol, New Hampshire, on the west shore of Umbagog Lake.
We are paddling a section of the Northern Forest Canoe Trail, a 742-mile route from Old Forge, New York to Fort Kent, Maine. Every year, thousands of paddlers paddle a portion of the route. A few dozen undertake the entire trip, usually starting in the Adirondacks at spring run-off; but a few – difficult as it may be to grasp – start at Fort Kent, and paddle upstream for much of the first few hundreds of miles. As is the case with the Appalachian Trail, many paddlers do a portion each year, which is termed “section-paddling”, until they complete the entire route.
Western Maine can rightly claim some of the wildest and most strikingly beautiful waters and mountain terrain to be found along the lengthy way. Everyone in our party had paddled some of the lakes we are crossing, but none of us had ever undertaken a through paddle of the Rangeley Lakes Chain. A trip of this nature is not all pure paddling. Along the way there are three portages, one of which, along the Rapid River, gains over 160’ of elevation over five miles. Conversely, the river drops 60’ in that distance, one of the steepest gradients in Eastern North America – un-runnable except by the most highly experienced paddlers in specialty watercraft.
Crossing Umbagog Lake we chatted from a distance with a few fishing parties, as we made our way in the early hours when the big lakes offer the calmest conditions. Dark blue waters mirror the shoreline woods. Water lilies are in abundance, white and gold.
To the northwest, Diamond Peak in New Hampshire rises beyond lakeside hills with its distinctive pointed summit. Three hours of paddling brings us to the outlet of the Rapid River. Now in the outflow current, we work our way upstream to Cedar Stump Campsite, highest upstream navigable point, and set up for the night.
But we still have work to do before this day draws to an end. The next leg of our trip is a 3.2 mile portage. The first 0.5 mile is over a rough, rocky, root-crossed narrow trail with frequent mud holes, and slippery bog bridges. In a series of hauls, we carry one of the canoes, one kayak, and gear we do not need for the night, up the trail. After a hearty meal, and a good night’s sleep, we wake the following morning to carry the remaining canoe, and the rest of our gear, up the portage, making multiple trips to do so. In the course of the two days, we covered at least 10 miles to move our gear one-half mile! We are far from finished with the portage, but the remainder of the portage trail beyond is an old woods road, over which we can wheel our boats, although there are washouts, steep drops and rises, and many a jutting boulder to negotiate. The nearby river, running fast over the multiple steep rapids that give the Rapid River its name, provides background music to our labors.
Along Rapid River to Lower Richardson Lake
On that second day we pause at Forest Lodge, below the now washed-out Lower Dam at the lower end of Pond in the River. Louise Dickinson Rich lived here with her husband Ralph for a decade in the early 1900’s, and wrote a Maine classic: “We took to the Woods”. One of our party brought the book along and read aloud from it each evening. The collection of wood frame buildings – a summer house, a winter houses (only steps away), workshop, guide’s quarters – are no longer occupied, and are on the National Historic Register.
Our party walked the property, sat on the porch of the winter house, looked out upon the rocky site of the former Lower Dam and the swirling waters below. I imagined life in that setting one hundred years ago. So much changed in the wider world, but the background rush of the river must be the same for us as it was for Louise and Ralph. We sit and we listen, for a good while.
At the end of the portage we reach Lower Richardson Lake, by Middle Dam, load and launch. Our route northward parallels the west shore of the lake, passes through The Narrows, and heads into Upper Richardson lake. We enjoy a following wind, that is, a southwest wind that eases our paddling work. Loons and mergansers join us on the lake. We see more eagles. We make camp on breezy Halfmoon Cove, on a warm night. After all is set up. We head for the water for early evening dips. The water is delightfully refreshing after a full day of portaging and paddling. I stayed at this same site nearly 40 years ago! It is a striking location, with high red pine, dotting a bouldered peninsula.
Day three, with an early start, we paddle farther up the west shore, and spend time exploring idyllic Cranberry Cove. This cove, lined with wild cranberry bushes, extends deep towards the forest, winding its way first as cove, then as bog. An immense silence abides. We spot a party of two kayakers, who appear to be early-rising day-trippers. The early hours offer the best time of the day to see wildlife, and for calm waters. We exchange waves. This set-apart cove is a world unto itself – mirroring waters, utter silence, sunlight falling on lush mid-summer growth. I plan to return here, and spend the better part of a day doing so.
To Mooselookmeguntic Lake
We traverse Upper Richardson Lake, west to east, to reach the carry trail at Middle Dam, portaging a half-mile to the edge of Mooselookmeguntic Lake. Along the portage we pass the former residence of Carrie Stevens, legendary inventor of the Gray Ghost stream fly. A nearby plaque honors her contribution to Maine fly-fishing history. Carrie invented hundreds of patterns and tied thousands of flies. More history!
As we prepare for the next paddling leg, clouds thicken and rain begins to fall, light at first, then with persistence. We pull on our raingear and launch for Brookside Campsite on the upper northwest shore. The winds shift to coming out of the southeast – good for paddling northwesterly, but boding heavy weather to come. Before the clouds lower ever more, I have a good look at Bald Mountain in Oquossoc to the northeast, and the long chain of lesser-known peaks that extend along high ground in the farther western reaches of Franklin County and eastern Oxford County: multi-summit Bemis Mountain, Elephant Mountain, Old Blue. I have crossed those peaks many times while hiking on the Appalachian Trail. To our immediate right stands the long, low Metallak Mountain, named for Metallak, a member of the Androscoggin band of Native Americans, also known as the Arosaguntacook.
A hunter and guide, he reportedly was a friend of Maine Governor Enoch Lincoln. Metallak is understood to be the last survivor of this band, as others died of smallpox. Many place names in New Hampshire and Maine honor him, including Metallak Island, and Metallak Brook, in Maine.
We work hard to reach a lee from the rising wind and driving rain, in the shelter of islands like Griffin and Turner, and finally Johnson. Everyone wears a PFD, well-zipped, with a snug fit. We carry throw bags (rescue ropes) in our boats, and practiced rescue procedures before the trip began. We are in good shape, having gotten an early start to the day, reaching the campsite before the weather fiercens, and the lake turns to whitecaps. It is there, after setting up camp, that we spotted the deer swimming out into the stormy waters.
After setting up camp, we start a fire, cutting some standing dead fir trees, dry on the inside; whittling wood shavings; gathering tiny twigs, and topping it off with graduated sizes of fir which we sawed and then split with a hatchet. The world around is heavily wet. We are dry, with a fire going. As evening comes on, the rain ceases. A half-moon shows through gaps in the cloud cover. Good night for sleeping.
Haines Landing, Oquossoc, and Rangeley Lake
On our final day, we traverse Mooselookmeguntic Lake, rounding Stony Batter Point, pulling out at Haines Landing in Oquossoc for our final portage of the trip. This is the easiest portage of the trip, along the 1.5 mile Carry Road – except that this is the first time we must be mindful of traffic! Most drivers are observant and respectful of distance. For a few – well, perhaps this is the first time they have ever seen canoes trundled along a roadside, and I ask, by gesture, for some room. A pause in Oquossoc Village for an early lunch at the Oquossoc Grocery, a poise for a photo or two from curious observers, and we are on our way to the boat launch at the Rangeley River inlet on Rangeley Lake.
The day has turned bright, and warm – warmest day of the trip. The winds are coming up as the day warms, becoming stiff out of the south. Here we have the legendary high winds of the big lakes, for which every paddler must be alert. We are indeed alert, while taking in a mountain panorama that extends as far as the Saddleback Range to the east, Four Ponds Mountain to the south, and the hoist of rolling foothills from Dallas Hill over to the high ground near Height of Land. Here is a day of striking summer beauty -sunny, high clouds billowing above the high peaks, the land a great mass of green hues.
Paddling parallel to the north shore, I discover a female merganser with her chicks, who present themselves as a miniature version of her – rusty red crests, dark gray sleek bodies. Mother seems to pay no attention to us, and swims quite close. Perhaps we are providing her and her flock with a lee from the strong swells rolling in off the lake, as we paddle by.
By the time we reach Hunter Cove, the lake is whitecap-tossed, and the winds drive the waves at a 90 degree angle to our boats. Ah, the power of the wind! Choices? We could set a southward course into the wind, fighting our way towards the center of the lake, turn at a propitious moment, paddle for Town Cove. That is a risky choice – deeper water, higher waves, wind gaining strength. Instead, we enter Hunter Cove, relax out of the wind, take a water break, and decide to take out at the thoroughfare on Rangeley’s Mingo Springs Loop Road. A phone call brings a friend who shuttles us to our vehicles in nearby downtown Rangeley. We return and load up, talking already about our next Northern Forest Canoe Trail canoe trip – down the Androscoggin River? Up to the Moose River in Jackman and downriver to Moosehead Lake? Many a good option!
No point in being foolish after such a fine 4-day paddle in some of the most striking lake country on earth! The lake will still be there for another day. The same principle applies to mountain hiking. When conditions become downright dangerous, remember that the mountain will still be there on another day. Hike smart. Paddle smart.
Late summer tends to offer dry weather, refreshing mornings and evenings, and new rhythms for birds and creatures of the forest. Enjoy a paddle of an hour or two, a half-day, or even an overnight canoe or kayak camping trip. Perhaps you will enjoy a wildlife sighting unlike anything you have seen before. Wear that PFD!
I hope to see you on the water!
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Copyright 2023, Doug Dunlap
