Canoe Camping in the Adirondacks: Little Tupper, Round and Rock

It amazes me that after all our trips to the Adirondacks to go paddling, we still need to check the map for directions on how to get there. Maybe it is because our minds are so focused on wheer we are going, not what we are doing that makes us completely incapable of memorizing some really simple directions.

As the boyfriend drives, I guess I should be figuring out the roads.
But my mind has a tendency to wander.
Like my trail name, Spacey Jane, implies...I tend to zone out when the movements are repetitive. The rhythm of the car, the endless yellow and white lines marking the road...and the flow of life slows down as we reach the waterside.

Soon the tent has been set, dinner has been made...and we can sit by the shore in our wool hats and fleece coats and enjoy the quiet sounds of the wilderness after sunset. In the Adirondacks, that consists of the song of the cicadas, the slapping of a beaver's tail and the belly aching of bull frogs.

Vespi is asleep on my feet, keeping them warm as we expect a frost and I am too stubborn to take off my flip flops and put on my socks.

It is going to be a wonderful night for Canoedeling.

All too soon, the morning sun creeps into the tent and Vespi barely picks up her head as I wake for my morning constitutional.

It's still chilly, but no frost :(

So I take my photos of the morning fog rising from the lake...
and get right back into my sleeping bag to sleep away
a few more hours until our kick ass breakfast:
egg, bacon and avocado sandwiches
(why do you think we bring the cast iron skillet?)

And then we paddled.
And paddled.
And Canoe Carried.
And Paddled Some More.

When we chose to travel across Little Tupper,
I mentally had it as a small quick paddle to the other end.
Instead, it ended up being a four hour trudge into a head wind with one hour meanderings through gorgeous swamplands inbetween.

So we stopped at the infamous Eagle Point for a much deserved hot lunch,
which, although delicious at the time, screwed up my gas allotment for the stove.
This did not bode well for our final meal.

Then we came to the beavers.
A swampy river stream leading into the next pond had
obviously been absconded by a community of beavers.
We spotted at least six different lodges and
struggled crossing several beaver dams.
I will say that it is a very eeiry feeling to stand on a stick structure
that is floating in the water while pulling your loaded canoe over it.

A few times Vespi helped out by jumping out of the canoe.
This proved extremely unsuccesful,
as she only found herself belly deep in a floating plant life.

We arrived at our own private lake
just in time to sit in the middle of it and
watch the sun dip behind the Adirondack Pines
and sip a little whiskey.

The water was glass,
the air just cold enough to put on a light winter hat as we sat,
him in his kayak and I in my canoe.

It was beautiful.
It was peaceful.

It was Nature in her element.

After a warming yoga session on the shores of our island campsite,
I got down to the task of making breakfast.
Except that the decision to eat a warm lunch the day before
meant that we ran out of gas halfway through cooking the apple brannock.
Luckily, the cast iron skill was warm enough
to at least solidify the outsides and warm the middle of mine.

At least we had bacon!!

Eventually, it was time to admit we had reached the end of our adventure.
We paddled back through the beaver dams,
once again across the length of Little Tupper
and loaded up the car for the long drive home.

Our "weekend" of canoedeling had passed.
And we began to start planning our next adventure

Any Suggestions?


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