phoebe gelbard - NFCT 2022

Day 39: Pelletier’s to Northern Door Inn (Fort Kent)

Fri, 24 Jun 2022 07:00:00 GMT

Today, we completed the final stretch of our self-propelled thru-paddle of the NFCT. It was an uneventful float down to Fort Kent (aside from some quickwater and John needing some technical support with his phone), but the morning hours were filled with pensive reflection on the last several weeks on the trail together.

Our final morning on the river as we make our way to the end of the trail

Signing the log book one more time

Obligatory eastern terminus photo

Mostly quiet, calm moments marked the morning as we made our way to the eastern terminus at Riverside Park. Lori, John’s wife, welcomed us with a feast that will not be forgotten: a beautiful cobb salad, homemade chicken fajitas with all of the fixings, a cake, and 3 pints of ice cream (and a 6-pack of Allagash White beer, of course).

After saying our goodbyes to John and Lori, who were headed back to Rhode Island in their van over the next few days, we began our final portage of the trip to the Northern Door Inn. It felt strange to be ending our trip today – in a way, it seemed that the end had come too soon, and we both agreed that we could probably keep paddling for longer if we had a route to follow.

All smiles with 740 miles behind us! (+ a few more)

Watching the cooking of the world's biggest ploye

In the evening, we ventured up the street to the local ski hill where the town was having their annual ploye festival. We got to see the “world’s biggest ploye” being cooked, then managed to get some samples of the giant green crêpe-like pancake!

What a wonderful way to celebrate the end of an epic journey. I feel so much gratitude for those whom we met along the way, to John as our paddling companion, to our families for supporting us in taking this leap, and to Ben – for seeing this dream become memories of a lifetime.

Paddle on,
P B & J

Previous entry: Day 38

Day 38: Twin Brook East to Pelletier’s campground

Thu, 23 Jun 2022 07:00:00 GMT

It’s diner day! Without breakfast to eat at camp, we were quick to pack up, and after a short paddle down to Two Rivers Lunch in Allagash Village, we were rewarded with the biggest pancakes I’ve ever seen (along with coffee, an omelet, and a plate of home fries and corned beef hash). What a good day already.

Diner food after 10 days in the wilderness hits different

The St. John, our final waterway en route to Fort Kent, ME

The remainder of the paddle to the confluence of the Allagash and St. John (our final river!) was quick and relatively uneventful. We finally understood what John meant when he said that people say the St. John is “a mile wide and an inch deep” – fortunately, we were lucky to have higher-than-usual water levels for finishing our trip.

There were a few stretches of whitewater as we approached Pelletier’s, and I felt really proud of how far we (aka Ben) have come in our ability to read the river and maneuver around rocks and through rapids. I think we did some actual class II rapids and handled them so smoothly. John even noted how vastly we’ve improved in our teamwork, and he apologized for dissuading us from running Chase Rapids. We’ll be back someday soon to have another chance.

We arrived at Pelletier’s campground and guide company by the early afternoon and had several hours to hang out. We were feeling restless by evening with such a short day of paddling (following a string of such long days) and didn’t know what to do with ourselves. Against the backdrop of a dreamy sunset, Ben and I celebrated nearing the end of the trip with ice cream bars from the gas station up the road. We ate them in thoughtful quietness.

Previous entry: Day 37
Next entry: Day 39

Celebrating nearing the end of our journey

Day 37: Round Pond Inlet to Twin Brook East campsite

Wed, 22 Jun 2022 07:00:00 GMT

We slept in until 7am (!) this morning and ate our final 5 packets of oatmeal, banking on making it to a site tonight within range of the Allagash diner for Thursday morning. The food barrel is LIGHT (though the bag of trash inside is surprisingly weighty).

The wind was strong but almost entirely in our favor today, pushing us north along the river. Coupled with the current, aside from the few miles of deadwater above Allagash Falls, we flew along. A quiet, pensive day of taking it all in: our last full day on the Allagash – and the end of this journey feels so close. Just a few days ago, we wondered if we’d ever make it to the river, being so socked-in by the cold, windy rain, and now the days and miles feel like they are tumbling away. I suppose that’s usually how these things come to a close.

Our final official portage around Allagash Falls is behind us!

"Tuna casserole" on the menu for dinner

Even in the moments of frustration – at “wheeling” the canoe with Ben over the rock-strewn path around the falls today, our final *official* (but likely not last) portage – it is grounding to remember how lucky we are to be here, in these places, meeting the people we’ve encountered along the way and the kindness and stories they’ve shared with us.

Previous entry: Day 36
Next entry: Day 38

Day 36: Thoreau to Round Pond Inlet campsite

Tue, 21 Jun 2022 07:00:00 GMT

Today’s paddling began in a sea of fog – but at least it was completely windless. We said goodbye to our campsite neighbors at 5am and thanked Steve for everything he had done for us.

The fog was disorienting but absolutely beautiful – at times, the sun half-emerged from behind the mist and lit up the ripples around us, shimmering like an endless velvet carpet stretching into the distance. As we paddled on to Churchill Lake, the fog lifted, giving way to warm sunshine (finally!). We basked in the windlessness as we made our way past Scofield Point, one of John’s favorite spots on the upper Allagash, and ultimately to Churchill Dam where Steve happened to land at around the same time.

Paddling down Eagle Lake in a pea soup fog

The mist begins to lift

After loading our bags into the ranger’s truck to be delivered to Bissonette Bridge, marking the end of Chase Rapids, we made the decision not to run them given the high water volume that day. The truck with our bags had already left, and I made a fuss over taking the shuttle to bypass them, so we wheeled the 4.5 miles to the former bridge site where we collected our gear and ate lunch.

We continued on downstream, our first time not fighting wind and/or the current in what felt like ages. At Long Lake dam, after finding each campsite up to that point occupied by at least one if not multiple groups, we decided to keep pushing onward all the way to Round Pond, crossing our fingers we’d have luck finding a site there.

Elm trees greet us near the inlet to Round Pond

Despite beginning to descend into madness at the whim of our exhaustion and food-deprived bodies, the entry to the pond was spectacular: elm tree-lined braided channels pointed us toward the pond, shimmering in the golden light of the evening. We collapsed at the Inlet campsite, shocked that it was not yet occupied as of 7:30pm. We wolfed down a double dinner of instant pad Thai and rice and beans, trying to make up for the energy we expended on today’s 44.14-mile odyssey. A new record distance day, by almost double.

Previous entry: Day 35
Next entry: Day 37

Day 35: Lock Dam to Thoreau campsite (Pillsbury Island)

Mon, 20 Jun 2022 07:00:00 GMT

We awoke this morning at 4am to the sound of… wind. Already?! At least it wasn’t accompanied by rain this time. Mildly enraged, we left the sweet splendor of the ranger station porch and walked across Lock Dam where we made the split-second decision to go down the dam channel toward Pillsbury Island rather than up Chamberlain Lake into an unknown wave situation toward the Tramway carry.

It seemed like a good call; even crossing over to Pillsbury was nearly too rough by 6:30am. We landed on the north end of the island at the Thoreau campsite where we were first greeted by the wafting scent of sizzling bacon, then by Stephen, an 80-year-old man, and his rather yappy dog, Penny, who were camping there by themselves for the week.

Ben got a fire going at the next site over, and we chatted with Steve over coffee that he offered us while he finished his breakfast of pancakes and bacon. Once he learned more about us and the miles that remained ahead of us over the next few days, he proceeded to give us half a dozen eggs, Bisquick, several tins of canned vegetables, baked beans, two large potatoes, hot chocolate mix, most of a stick of Houlton Farms butter (“the only good butter out there,” according to Steve), and a large ribeye steak.

Steve's collection of handmade fly fishing lures

A ribeye steak for lunch, just when our food supply was running at an all-time low

That afternoon, we seared the steak in our tiny frying pan and split it 3 ways and indulged in some of the other treats that we’d just been gifted. What a glorious place and person with which to be wind-bound for yet another day. We spent the afternoon reading and napping in the sun, spreading out all of our soggy items to dry. For dinner, we ate pancakes with scrambled eggs and boiled potatoes drenched in butter, all thanks to Steve.

While I was itching to make more progress after two days of waiting for the wind to cease, we decided to sit tight tonight instead of making what would be 3-4 miles at most of headway. Instead, Ben and I went for a sunset paddle to the tip of the Island before heading to bed.

Previous entry: Day 34
Next entry: Day 36

Day 34: Lock Dam – zero day #2

Sun, 19 Jun 2022 07:00:00 GMT

Today, we are wind-bound and icy-rain-bound. After re-assessing our food supply situation, we’ve reduced our rations from 3 packets of oatmeal per day per person to just 1. Spirits are lower than usual.

I stayed in the sleeping bag cocoon most of the day, only venturing out to help try to find dry wood for Ben to start a fire. I finished “Wild Seed” while Ben blasted through most of “Goodbye to a River.” Reluctantly, even John started reading the Octavia Butler novel when he made it to the end of his book, “Water and Sky.” We traded books, though John had stripped “Water and Sky” down to the final third of the book and had burned the first few hundred pages, so I was starting it most of the way through.

In the early afternoon, Ben managed to get a decent blaze going despite the continuing downpour. While huddled around the fire, we began to hear voices down near the channel leading up to Chamberlain, and we soon saw a large group of drenched paddlers carrying four large canoes up to the dam.

After unpacking their boats, several of the paddlers ventured over to our camp at the ranger station and joined us around the fire. We learned that they were a group of Boy Scout trip leaders who were training to be guides. They were in shockingly good spirits for being so cold and wet with no real place to dry out.

The fire soon died out, as it was simply too soggy to be kept alive, and the Boy Scout leaders went back to their campsite. We’d really just like to be done at this point. We’re praying for minimal wind and for the rain to cease so that we can get off of these lakes and on to the Allagash before our food runs out. That seems like a lot to ask, though.

Today's view from the porch

A fiery sunset after a day of cold rain

After dinner, while we waited anxiously for a weather update from the satellite phone, Ben noticed a streak of sunlight hitting the tops of the trees near the lake edge. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the sun had broken through the clouds for a moment! We rushed outside, and soon we could see a rainbow stretching across the sky. Members of the Boy Scout group had also noticed the break in the weather, and we all stood and watched the sun set as we looked across toward the end of the lake, grateful for a break in what seemed like a never-ending rain storm.

Previous entry: Day 33
Next entry: Day 35

Day 33: Umbazooksus West to Lock Dam

Sat, 18 Jun 2022 07:00:00 GMT

At last, today was the infamous Mud Pond Carry day. In the morning drizzle, we meandered to the unassuming start of the carry at the edge of Umbazooksus Lake where we duct-taped our shoes to our feet and ankles and began the first of 3 treks into the woods following Mud Stream.

Let's do this

Mud Stream: more of a concept than a trail

All in all, after about 3 hours of trucking back and forth through the icy water interspersed with deep muddy pools, we agreed that while it was a suck fest (especially with the cold rain), we joked that it was basically your average trail in the Adirondacks in wet conditions.

I actually found it to be quite beautiful at times, with misty tree outlines and carpets of ferns extending outward from the narrow path. On our return trip after leg 1 of 3, we even saw a cow moose – she was too swift for us to get more than a quick glance, though. Mud Pond was larger than we expected, and it was completely socked in with fog, dampening any sounds around us other than our paddles entering the water with each stroke.

The final section where Mud Stream emptied into Chamberlain Lake was a sick joke following what we had just portaged through – we were wading in the knife-sharp rock-laden channel the ENTIRE time. Katina was right when she said that it’s a chance to wash off the mud…

Slow down! You're going so fast you might miss something!

Ben in the thick of it

We stopped for a very quick lunch and hot chocolate at the Mud Brook campsite; any longer, and we might have started to get hypothermia since we were drenched from the morning’s slog. Continuing on, we paddled across a drizzly but shockingly calm Chamberlain Lake and made it to Lock Dam just as it started to downpour. We were wet and it was getting dangerously cold (<50º), but someone must be looking out for us: the unstaffed ranger station at Lock Dam had an unlocked, screened-in porch. A lean-to for us to take shelter at? You bet.

Previous entry: Day 32
Next entry: Day 34

Day 32: Boom House to Umbazooksus West campsite

Fri, 17 Jun 2022 07:00:00 GMT

We woke up at 5am to John informing us that “the river is like glass!” Instead of resuming what was planned to be a rest/rain wait-out day, we packed up with lightning speed and paddled out to where the W. Branch empties into Chesuncook Lake.

There, the lake was far from glassy, but we pushed on against the rolling waves as they slapped us broadside, determined to make some headway this morning. After giving it our entire effort, we arrived safely at Longley Stream campsite just north of Gero Island – still on Chesuncook Lake. Exhausted and only about one mile from where we started the day, we wearily set up a tarp and dry line to hang our wet tents out, which didn’t take long with the wind and fleeting sun.

Ben decided to make “muffins” using Betty Crocker just-add-water mix that we’d picked up in Jackman and the JetBoil. The results were mixed, to say the least. Around 10am, with no end in sight to the gusts of wind, Ben bushwhacked his way to a nearby logging road that would take us to a campsite in the northeast arm of the lake, setting us up for an easy approach to Umbazooksus Lake the next day.

Seeing no other option, we hauled our bags and boats through the dense, wet brush to the road. As I was shedding my raincoat, I lost one of my earrings in the dense grass covering the path. I was in despair over the situation (but more so about the portage ahead). Somehow, Ben managed to find the earring after several minutes of searching.

Getting creative with the JetBoil, with questionable success

Forward progress by any means necessary, especially when it involves a scenic walk

The logging road walk ended up being quite beautiful, with yellow flowers lining the path and wild strawberries in abundance as we made our way through the rather desolate post-logging landscape. A few miles in, a grouse with a flock of young nearly flew into John’s head when we got too close.

To top it off, the rain ceased just as we began our walk, and when we arrived at the Umbazooksus West campsite, it was hot and sunny for nearly the entire afternoon. Parked at the end of the driveway leading to the site, there was a quaint tiny church (on wheels!) that we stopped to visit. Everything about it was constructed thoughtfully, and it was comforting in a way to see it out here, many, many miles from a town or community.

We read and napped for the rest of the day – maybe this is our rest day, partial at least? The winds can’t keep us from moving, even if it takes us *all* the way around by road.

Previous entry: Day 31
Next entry: Day 33

A tiny church! On wheels! In the middle of the Maine woods!

Day 31: Northeast Carry landing to Boom House campsite

Thu, 16 Jun 2022 07:00:00 GMT

We woke up to a cloud of bugs that had settled down between our tent and fly, then ate our cold-soaked oatmeal and headed down the W. Branch of the Penobscot – a new river with some current, at least. We stopped for a snack at Thoreau’s Island, and I took the stern for ~5 miles after that, my first time doing so since Forked Lake.

As we made our way toward the mouth of Chesuncook Lake, we were washed ashore to the Boom House campsite by 3-4’ waves at our backs. Scary stuff, but counting our blessings that we weren’t on Moosehead in these conditions.

After setting up camp, Ben and I walked to Chesuncook Village via the trail and road behind our campsite. We visited the church, which had a neat book of stories written by a former school teacher and village resident), then made our way down to Graveyard Point to shudder at the ungodly swells of whitecaps churning across the lake.

A friendly toad encounter en route to the village

Stopping by to check out the Chesuncook Village church

Given the waves on the W. Branch of the Penobscot where we took out, we were shocked but not surprised by the conditions on the lake. On our way back to camp, we stopped at the cemetery tucked away in the woods on a hill behind the village. From what we’d read, the graves had been relocated from Graveyard Point to the new location when the lake was dammed and flooded in the early 1900s.

With ~10 days of paddling to go, we are approaching the end of the trail with a mix of feelings. The bugs, wind, and long walks are forces to be reckoned with, but there have been so many moments of bliss, and most of them shared, which is a special feeling.

Previous entry: Day 30
Next entry: Day 32

Day 30: Little Brassua Inlet to Northeast Carry landing

Wed, 15 Jun 2022 07:00:00 GMT

Today was one of our longest days, and it sure felt like it. We made it across the Brassua Lakes with ease and just a breeze to contend with; where the Moose River empties into Moosehead was another story.

Clouds of bugs at dawn means breakfast in the boat

Mt. Kineo at our backs as we paddle across Moosehead Lake

We decided to head down to Rockwood to wait for the wind to die down, and good thing we did: the kind stranger from yesterday, Ralph, spotted us from his backyard and shouted down to us to ask if we needed anything. We ended up pulling up to his dock, using his bathroom, and taking a snack break in his yard.

We chatted with him for a while and he gave us Gatorade before we parted ways, feeling much more prepared for the open water miles ahead and grateful for another moment of trail magic. We decided that the lake looked calm enough to cross over and between Mt. Kineo and Farm Island (rather than through the Frog Pond channel), making our way around to the north side of Kineo and across to the eastern shore of the lake.

With Kineo at our backs and sparkling blue-green water below us, we continued north and stopped for lunch at Kelly Point. There, we took an icy dip and talked to a friendly family that was camping there for a few days – what a spot! Everyone we encounter seems impressed, on some level, by our endeavors.

The afternoon was long and hot, but the lack of wind was such an unexpected gift. We also had the added incentive of making it to Raymond’s Country Store, ~0.25 miles into the Northeast Carry, before he closed “between 5 and 6pm.” As the shoreline with our take-out came into view, our bodies were running on the adrenaline and anticipation of ice cream (in literally any form). We also managed to catch a few glimpses of the Katahdin Range looming in the distance.

Moosehead sprawls like an ocean behind us from the Northeast Carry

Phoebe (trail name "Bluebird") among the lupine

We managed to make it to the NE Carry around 4:30pm, gazing behind us at the vast stretch of lake that we had just paddled. Mt. Kineo looked so distant in the late afternoon haze. We booked it down the road with high hopes for the general store being open – and it was! We devoured cold soda and Klondike bars while the owner, Mr. Raymond, regaled us with details about the logging industry and tales of life in the north Maine woods. We thanked him and continued on to the end of the NE Carry, where we decided to camp at the river’s edge amidst clouds of insects. Another tent dinner, but grateful to have made it all the way across Moosehead today.

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Next entry: Day 31