A Journey Through the North
Established as a water trail in the early 2000s, the 740-mile long <a class="highlighted-link">Northern Forest Canoe Trail</a> first caught my attention in 2012 while I was looking for overnight canoe camping trips to take. The magnitude of such a journey hooked my imagination immediately, but as often happens, life’s responsibilities kept me land-bound.
Fast forward nearly a decade and I decided that it was time to take on the trail.
While making preparations for a solo trip, a good friend of mine, Monty (and co-coach of Rock Mill’s competition climbing team) told me he could join in on the fun. He only had one caveat: We would have to do the trip in record time. Monty’s work schedule would not permit him the time to complete the trip in 30 days or more, which was the amount of time I thought was needed. So, we hurried through planning, scouting the trail via Google Maps, and building our own boat, a <a class="highlighted-link">Skin on frame canoe</a>. Our goal was to finish in 16 days.
Which we did - almost. We traversed the entirety of the trail and came back to our families alive and intact in 17 days and 15 hours.
Upon our return, the question people asked me the most was “Would you do it again?” Initially, I wasn’t sure how to respond. The realness and brutality of the experience weighed so heavily on me that it overshadowed the beautiful landscapes, the amazing people, and the thrill of the adventure. How could I explain the dichotomy of such an ordeal?
Now that time has blunted the sharpness of my difficulties, the allure has come back to me. I can still recall the pangs of homesickness, fatigue, and sores.
But they are slowly being taken over in my mind by the sunsets, the wildlife, and our little bit of success.
Yes, I would do it again.
What follows is the day-by-day account of our trip as I experienced it.
Day 1: We started out early and were quickly making our way through the <a class="highlighted-link">Fulton Chain of Lakes</a>. Getting used to using the Far Out app took a little time, but I quickly got the hang of things. Our first encounter with beaver dams came on Brown Tract and was novel at first, but became tiresome quickly. Little did we know how many dams we would be crossing on this trip. We got ourselves onto Long Lake and paddled on it for what seemed like forever. We finally arrived at our intended camp site on the Raquette River and were immediately hit by a swarm of mosquitos–a constant presence for the remainder of the trip. We covered just over 50 miles the first day and were still feeling pretty good.
Day 2: We woke around 4:30 AM, and quickly broke camp, waiting for the first <a class="highlighted-link">Portage</a> to make breakfast. Paddling was fairly uneventful and we didn’t see too many people, although the closer to Saranac Lake, we got the more speed boats and wakes we would have to deal with.
One event that stands out is going through the lock system. One of the locks was under repair so we portaged around it. We almost went around the second lock too, but right as we were going to get out of the boat someone exited on our side and it was clear for us to go in. Perfect timing. We were running a little late due to a food stop in town, so we dug in and didn’t make it to Union Falls Pond until around 9:30 that night. I wasn’t too happy to be paddling into the dark, but this wouldn’t be the last time we were forced to push ourselves further than expected.
Day 3: We broke camp and got on the water at 5:30 AM. Back on the Saranac, the water was a little low, but not a big deal at this point. When we portaged , Monty would put the <a class="highlighted-link">bow</a> of the boat on his shoulder and I would rest on the <a class="highlighted-link">stern</a> seat on my pack. Monty had the food bag (which was very heavy and in retrospect could have been much smaller and refilled in all of the towns we passed), and so was carrying the lion's share of the weight, but due to my position carrying the boat I wasn’t too far behind. We put back in on the Saranac and immediately found it to be too shallow to float. So, we got back to walking, taking breaks every mile or so. After a few more smaller portages we arrived at Treadwell Mills dam around dark and Monty took off to a grocery store to pick up dinner and sweets. We were having a hard time keeping up with our caloric needs. Another short carry brought us to our campsite for the night–, an uneven plot of grass on the side of yet another portage.
Day 4: Like most days, we got up early, but this time started our day walking. We finished the short portage and hit the river, again to find it was just too low to paddle. Now, when we portaged, we tried to carry just enough water to get us through so we didn’t carry extra weight on our shoulders. Knowing we couldn’t filter water from the lake we’d be paddling through soon, we brought a little extra, but not much. We hit the lake, and immediately hit waves in Cumberland Bay. I was a little shaken by this, but figured we had to push on. When we got out into more open water, we found the lake to be smooth as glass. It was about this time that I noticed water in the boat, and had to use one of our wool socks to soak it up and empty the boat.
Throughout the day, we ran out of water multiple times and had to ask strangers on shore for help. Monty was becoming lethargic and my mouth was consistently dry. Gratefully, but exhausted we paddled on to Swanton. We took out to portage and Monty vomited on shore. When we each called home our speech was coming out slowly. Probably some type of heat exhaustion or sun poisoning. Perhaps our closest run in with disaster of the trip.
Day 5: We let ourselves sleep in a little bit to recover from the day before. Eventually, we began the trek upstream. We labored for a while before giving up and finding a path onto the Missisiquoi Valley Rail Trail, an old rail line that has been converted into a walking path. The pain of portaging was continually building and it had become apparent that we would need a canoe cart to finish the trip. So, my wife was kind enough to find one and mail it to us in Richford, a small town some 12-14 miles away. The package would arrive the next morning and we wanted to get to town before the post office closed for their midday break. So, we walked on the rail trail until the pain of portaging was unbearable (besides our shoulders, my feet were getting destroyed by my Chaco sandals) and basically stopped and set up camp right where we were.
Day 6: Our shortest day, but both physically and emotionally draining. The canoe cart my wife ordered was in Richford. The next phase of our trip would take us up into Canada and the Customs Office where we were heading closes at 4:00 PM every day. So, we had to make good time at the cost of our bodies.
When we arrived, we found a spot to set the canoe and I shuffled over to the post office. Just walking was a chore. I went in and asked the clerk about our package and….nothing. No package. AND she told me that because it was being shipped via UPS she could deny the delivery unless I paid the shipping from the package’s origin – which could cost hundreds of dollars. I was devastated. The best I could come up with was to sit at the post office and wait for the UPS driver and intercept the canoe cart BEFORE it got into the hands of the USPS workers. So, that is what I did for hours that day and sadly the cart didn’t show up. According to the tracking number, the package wasn’t due to arrive until 9:00 AM the next morning, at the earliest.
Day 7: We broke camp and ate at a local diner to wait for the cart to arrive. The down time was useful – it had rained the night before and Monty had gotten soaked. He needed to dry his things out, and really, we never stop to get our things dry so it was nice to lay things out in the sun. 9:00 AM rolled around and no package. A different and much kinder USPS worker told me that UPS wouldn’t arrive until at least 1 PM! She was right, and when I saw the UPS guy coming, I ran and got the package before he could go to the post office. We got our wheels and happily walked the 4.5 miles to the Canadian border, arriving around 2:45 PM.
As soon as we got on the river we were hit by a downpour and the sound of thunder. We paddled on, timing the strikes and agreed we would get out if the flash bang was within a mile. We got lucky I think. We took out at Mansonville and hit the Grand Portage that evening while we watched the most beautiful sunset of the trip.
I had read in a blog or the guidebook about the hill we would have to walk up towards Lake Memphremagog. That “hill” nearly broke us, even with the wheels. Now, we were walking just as hard as we could, but we were still forced to stop and rest a few times during the trek. We summited the hill and headed to Perkins landing and the lake around 9:30 PM. We thought about putting in because we wanted to make camp on the lake, at Eagle Point, , but it was just too dark. We found a dark wooded corner along the route and made a quick camp.
Day 8: Like normal, we broke camp early and headed to the put in. While we were walking, it started to rain and continued to pick up. Almost the entire way down Lake Memphremagog, it poured on us. We stopped in Newport for some supplies and decided to portage around the first bit of rapids and put in at Clyde Pond. After Clyde Pond we were on the Clyde River and moving upstream around <a class="highlighted-link">Class I-II rapids</a>, downed trees, and of course low water. Eventually, we took out at an assigned portage and took off on Highway 105. We had some info that there were a ton of downed trees ahead on the Clyde, so after a walk to Pensioner Pond we put in for only a handful of miles before we took back out again, walking all the way to the put in before the Fen. Again, because of our time crunch we couldn’t enjoy the uniqueness of the water way. Instead we were frustrated by the difficulty in finding our path in what almost felt like a swamp that had faster, clearer water. We made it through and camped at a parking lot/put in. The mosquitos were no joke, and with no trees we had to sleep outside, covering our faces the best we could. Very little sleep happened that night.
Day 9: We put in at Island Pond early that morning, but had to get out once again to get to the Nulhegan River. We were ready for a little downstream action, but we were at the headwaters, so it was slow moving with plenty of 180-degree turns and narrow passages. We took out before the Class II and III rapids started, mostly because the water looked a little low and we were nervous about the boat. The leak didn’t seem to be getting worse, but that could change. So, we walked the 10 miles to the put-in on the Connecticut River which was a blast! I think we covered the 20-some-mile stretch in under 5 hours. We made it to the Ammonoosuc River around 7 or so that night, and Monty ran to the store while I found our camp. We actually got to sleep in a campsite that night, but because of the rain there would be no fire.
Day 10: We left our campsite and walked about a mile to a put in just past a dam in Groveton. We spent an hour or so fighting our way upstream until we finally gave up and hit the road. The water was low, fast and cold! We were in and out of the river for most of the day, eventually finding the Androscoggin River and our eventual put in at the Pontook Reservoir where we had one of our biggest moments of the trip: We saw our first moose just after putting in!
There are several sections of Class I and II rapids on the Androscoggin and we weren’t sure about our ability to get off the river if we needed to bypass them. So, after a little paddling we got off the river and decided to just walk. We made up our minds that since we were walking, we could just keep walking into the evening until we reached the next town, Errol. After walking miles and miles we arrived in Errol around 11:30 PM. I could hardly take another step (my muscles were seizing up and cramping) and I was just exhausted. Again, Monty walked around to find outlets to charge our battery banks, but the gas stations were all closed! These little setbacks seemed so much harder in the moment. We pulled the canoe off to a grassy area and threw down our mats and sleeping bags and fell asleep taking a chance that it wouldn’t rain on us. I was so exhausted that trying to set up the fly above us was beyond me. The walk to Errol was about 13 miles, and with all the other walking we did that day, we had completed a marathon – plus whatever paddling we did.
Day 11: First light came early and somehow I was less sore than I thought I’d be. We were soon crossing Umbagog Lake, which we both agreed was one of our favorites of the trip. We stopped at the next portage to eat and assess the walk. The 4.5 mile portage took us around 2 hours which was tough mentally. However, we got to jump onto a series of lakes – we were cooking. Richardson lakes were beautiful and Lake Mooselookmeguntic threw up some decent waves (which was good practice for the future).
We stopped at the <a class="highlighted-link">Oquossoc Grocery</a> for some really delicious burgers and fries before crossing Rangeley Lake and hitting the road again. The Dead River was our next destination, but again the water levels were just too low, so we had a 17-mile walk to the next lake. We wanted to get some of it behind us and decided to do another evening walk. Around 10:30 PM, we both gave in. We were struggling to stay awake walking and decided to camp wherever looked flat. We found a pull out that turned out to be a logging operation and laid down our things and tried to sleep, again amongst the cold, wet, and bugs.
Day 12: We woke up early from our miserable night’s sleep in the timber yard. We tossed on our bug nets and the stinging stopped. We got back on the road to Stratton and our put in at Flagstaff lake. It was about 12-13 miles away and again, by the time we got there I had to sit for a while to get my legs moving again. We picked up some food from a <a class="highlighted-link">mail drop</a> and a local grocery store, ate and walked (I shuffled) to the put in. Flagstaff Lake may be my favorite lake of the trip. Huge, almost nobody else on the lake, and only a few houses near the water. We stopped for a break because we were both feeling lethargic. I think we both fell asleep on the canoe for about 5 minutes. I woke with a start, roused Monty and we were back to work. The lake took a few hours to traverse, and we eventually portaged into the North Branch of the Dead River. There were some rapids at the put in that didn’t go too smoothly for us. We didn’t dump, but it was a bumpier ride than I would have liked. It was smooth paddling to our campsite at the Isle of Giants where we met some other thru paddlers. This night was one of the highlights of the trip for me.
Day 13: We slept in a little because we knew we had a grind ahead of us. We had to go up Spencer Stream and Little Spencer Stream which are full of Class I and II rapids. AND there is no road to take to bypass them. We started with a portage and some casual upstream paddling. When we hit Little Spencer stream it was apparent that there would be more river walking than paddling. We tried to be adaptable and jump in and out of the boat whenever we could. (We traveled more quickly when we could paddle, but the bursts were short lived. After a while I took to carrying a pack and the food and Monty walked the boat. The river was so low in places we would have to lift the boat up over the “rapids” so as not to scrape our hull to pieces. It was tiring work and we were going about 1 MPH, which was frustrating. We really wanted to ignore our hull and just pull the boat up over every little thing, but we knew that the little leak(s) we had would only get worse, so we tried our best. After a bear of a morning we made it to Moose River and the downstream paddling was lovely. We eventually stopped for the night at the Attean Falls campsites. There are a few sites on either side of the falls and we wanted to get to the last site to avoid the short portaging in the morning, but due to the dark we called it early. Only a 26-mile day.
Day 14: The pressure is starting to build. Our original goal was 16 days, but with the layover in Richford, 17 days was our new mission. The Moose River was a fun paddle and went quickly, and we had a small moment of joy when we portaged into Little Brassua Lake because it was our last multi-mile walk. We got on the lake and hit some serious headwinds. Waves kicked up and we really had to focus on the task at hand because there was absolutely no one around and dumping the boat would have been devastating. We eventually made it to Moosehead Lake and again faced a terrible headwind and large waves. It was again getting dark and the wind wasn’t letting up. I had spotted some sites on the map, but when we got near we had a hard time actually finding them. We eventually got into camp and got a fire going. We were wet, cold and starting to shiver. Monty made food (instant mashed potatoes and ramen) while I got a fire cracking. It was a tough day, but one of the best campsites of the trip. We came up short on miles, but still managed 45 or so with the rough conditions.
Day 15: We woke up to a semi-clear sky and the hopes of a calm Moosehead Lake. No such luck. As we paddled out of a little cove the waves and wind picked up again. It was a real struggle physically and mentally. At this point in the trip, we are both really feeling the fatigue. We finally made it to the Northeast Carry all cold and partly soaked. The day hadn’t quite warmed up yet.
We went into the general store, the last option for supplies until after the <a class="highlighted-link">Allagash Wilderness</a>. Hot breakfast, coffee and supplies were well worth the slight delay. We were also rewarded with shocked looks as we told the folks inside where we had just come from. I guess most people (sensibly) had stayed off the lake the day before. After a paddle down the historic Penobscot River we finally arrived at the Mud Pond Carry, a 1.6 mile portage through a muddy, stony creek bed. I had been looking forward to this suffer-fest all trip. Not long, not hilly, but just a bear. We tried to single carry and just couldn’t manage the weight. We ended up double carrying and although I was unreasonably mad about it, it was the right call. With all of the weight there is a good chance that one of us would have gotten injured. There are places on the portage where the mud suddenly comes up to knee height.
We made it onto Mud Pond around 9 PM and found the next “portage” around 9:30(in fact, we didn’t portage but dragged our boat through Mud Brook Creek until around 10 that night). It was Monty's turn to be unreasonably mad. We just couldn’t seem to catch a break. We wanted 50 but settled for 41 miles.
Day 16: Up early, and thankfully there was very little wind. We made fairly decent time up Chamberlain Lake and eventually to Churchill Lake where we got to meet the NFCT stewardship crew. One of them, Ethan, hooked us up with some food, for which we were super grateful. I swear an apple never tasted so good. We hadn’t had fresh fruit since the trip started. We had to stop and pay for camping and to enter the Allagash, and made it in right before they closed the dam. (They let out more water in the mornings so people can run the Chase Rapids, a 2-mile section of Class I and II). So, without much scouting we ran the rapids, trusting the info we had just learned and our dumb luck.
Everything went smoothly until the very last set. We tried to get around a big boulder and didn’t make it. The boat got pinned and started taking on water. So, we jumped out, pivoted it off, and guided it to shore where we started bailing water. I was nervous that we would have some broken bits of boat to try and patch up but she held together perfectly. We made 50 miles this day, but that would leave us with a 62-mile day to finish on–our biggest mileage day yet. After one last fire and dinner, we set our alarms for 3:30 and went to sleep.
Day 17: The last morning was a cold and foggy one and we were slow to get moving. The river was more shallow in spots than we expected and so we had to do a lot of weaving back and forth to find the channels, and every once in a while we would have to get out and pull the boat along.
I messaged my wife on my <a class="highlighted-link">inReach</a> to tell her our expected finish time and crossed my fingers that we could make it. When we made it to the St. John River (the last river of the trip) it was running quickly. We did take a few rests for food but kept them short. Our last break came about 10 miles from the finish line. We had been paddling at full tilt and it was around dinner time, so Monty cooked up some of our remaining food and we enjoyed one last rest and view.
After the break we jumped back in the boat with renewed vigor. We hit shore and Monty ran to the register box to sign our names and time – and I ran to my girls for a big family hug.
Even as I write this, I can’t believe we covered so many miles that day (62) and, as far as I know, set a new speed record for the trail: 17 days, 15 hours.
If you’re curious about planning a canoe trip or building your own canoe, read The Beta for the resources Jake recommends.
