Fall Whitewater and Other Well-Kept Secrets

The morning of November 29 started sunny and seasonally cool, with temperatures in the low 30's. By 11:00 AM, there we were, paddles wheeling through the bright water, embarking on a trip that would include a heretofore unexplored stretch of our favorite Maine river. We had planted a vehicle in Appleton, some 10 miles away. Besides a few sentences in a guidebook printed 20 years ago and a quick perusal of the section on Google Earth, we had nothing to go on -- which suited us just fine. Seeing something new, in essence, is what river travel is all about.

We put in on the St. George River in our usual spot in Searsmont. The water level at the put-in -- several feet up over the "summer banks" proved to be an omen for good paddling. The river south of the Ghent Road bridge was fast, deep, and full of standing waves. The drop at Magog (usually considered a Class III) was fun and easy.

In the past, we've taken out at the Route 105 bridge-- and looked wistfully on downstream, but this time, riding the swift current and with the late fall sunshine full on our faces, we were on our way down a wooded corridor that (if all went well) would bring us out at the Sennebec Road bridge in the center of Appleton.



The Class I-II rapids south of the Route 105 bridge transitioned into flatwater a few hundred yards below. Much of the rest of the trip to Appleton was flatwater, mixed with some easy Class I. At one point, an eagle soared high overhead. A beaver crossed the glassy surface in front of us, creasing the water with his wake. Stands of hardwoods lined the banks. Lazy trees extended far out over the water, their trunks just above our heads.

In a few places, downed trees formed strainers and thickets that we had to "river-whack" our way through. A hundred yards above the Appleton bridge, the current picked up and the rapids become a Class II. We took out above the bridge and then walked the bridge and the river, studying the drop and plotting our next trip in which we are pledged to "paddle on through."

Previously I subscribed to the myth that whitewater season here in coastal Maine is limited to a couple of months in the spring. This year, beginning in March, we got out on the local rivers in every month but August. Even now, in late November, the water levels are high -- and the water temperatures are warmer than in March or April.

In fact, the greatest "hardship" of paddling this time of year is that the southern trajectery of rivers like the St.George together with the low angle of the sun combine to light the whitewater like silver fire. This makes seeing (and avoiding) the rocks more difficult. But, especially for those who might feel sunlight-deficient this time of year, it is an easy hardship to endure.

Different Day, Different River (Again down the St. George)

 
"You cannot step in the same river twice," says Heraclitus. I would add that you can never paddle the same river twice. Six weeks ago the St. George River was a shining filament amidst a winter forest stamped with deer trails. Four weeks ago, the St. George was a muddy torrent roiling with the weight of spring rains. Yesterday, the St. George was a glassy passage through a forest newly soft with spring buds.

Not just the river changes. At the put in, I am a bit tired and world weary, purpose-driven, edgy, wanting something I know not what. Just six and a half miles downstream, I have forgotten almost all of that. Time has folded over into a new dimension. Whatever it was, that was pressing on me is gone somehow. It is not the same man who pulls the kayak out of the river. And from the moment on, my life will never be the same, because in subtle ways I have changed. I am different for the time I have spent on the river.

Which way to the ocean?

This and other photos of the recent St. George River Race can be viewed at Village Soup.