HAUNTED LAKES: ELEVEN SPOOKY PLACES TO PADDLE

Photo Illustration by Deborah Ann Klenzman

Certain it is, the place still continues under the sway of some witching power, that holds a spell over the minds of the good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie. They are given to all kinds of marvelous beliefs, are subject to trances and visions, and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices in the air. ---Washington Irving 

By the light of the day, all lakes both large and small provide a vision of tranquility. They are the most peaceful and serene places we have come to know. We take comfort in their beautiful views, bathe in relaxing waters, and have found solitude paddling along their wild and whimsical shorelines.
But beware; after the sun falls behind the horizon, the darkness and the lake will conjugate their mystical powers casting a bewitching spell of uncertainty, dread, and fear. It's on that rim of darkness we will venture, seeking that surreptitious boundary between the water and the night, and real and imaginary.
"Some places speak distinctly," American author Robert Louis Stevenson wrote, "Certain dark gardens cry aloud for a murder; certain old houses demand to be haunted; certain coasts are set apart for shipwreck."
So what's lurking out there in the lake? Is it a spirit from beyond? Or a blend of frightening folklore that exposes our innermost fears and sparks our imaginations? Whether you’re spooked or skeptical, here are few haunted lakes and ponds you just might want to paddle (if you dare), this Halloween or anytime, for your chance to glimpse a ghost.

Gardner Lake, Connecticut
You will find more humor than horror in Connecticut's Gardner Lake. In 1895, the area grocer decided to move from the south side of Gardner Lake to the east side. While many would simply build another house at their new location, the grocer wanted to keep the two-story house he already owned. His solution was to wait till the lake was frozen over and sled his house and contents, including a piano, over the ice.

Gardner Lake

All went well until the ice cracked and the house slowly sank into the water. Not being able to pull it free from the lake's icy grip the home sat there till the spring thaw when it plunged the rest of the way into the bottom of the lake
OK so nobody died and the event is funnier than frightening. So why is lake considered haunted? Well, it's said the ghosts of the people who drowned in the lake can be seen and heard around the lake. That's no big deal for a lot of places. But the most unusual thing some say is on quiet nights, the piano that went down with the house can be heard playing from the spot on the lake where the home met its watery fate. Cue spooky piano music...

Haunted Lake, New Hampshire
The local real estate listings say Haunted Lake is a peaceful and tranquil place featuring shallow pond rimmed birches, pines, and summer cottages. The lake offers fishing, scenery, delightful shade, and unexplained weird noises.
According to the area's folklore, centuries ago a massive forest fire swept through, killing everything and everyone living around the lake. The Native Americans and Europeans settlers in the fire's aftermath were more than a little spooked by the charred trees and burned out landscape. After that, the little pond was called Haunted Lake.

Haunted Lake

In 1753, surveyor Matthew Patten only added to the little pond's lore when he wrote this in his diary while camping near the pond's outlet: "Soon after darkness set in, there commenced groaning and shrieks as of human being in distress, and these continued, most plaintive and affecting, till nearly morning."
The pond took on the identity of Scoby Lake when a family by the same name built a mill there. Of course, that didn't end the spookiness surrounding the pond, especially after they uncovered some skeletal remains on the lake shore. Its pseudonym as Haunted Lake would only endure.

Lake Ronkonkoma, New York
The creepy tales told of Lake Ronkonkoma, Long Island’s largest lake, say that it's a deep dark abyss with no bottom. It's so cold that spirits of ice skaters have been seen skating across it when it wasn't even frozen. However, the most prominent legend involves an Indian maiden who was not permitted to marry her white boyfriend. Overwrought with despair, she drowned herself in the lake, but not before vowing to drown one young man every year from then on.

Lake Ronkonkoma

The story that prologues the curse of Lake Ronkonkoma has all the ingredients of a Shakespeare tragedy. Two young star-crossed lovers; a beautiful Native American princess and her steadfast colonist pledging undying love for one another on the banks of the lake. Forbidden to see each other, they use the lake to float love notes written on birch bark back and forth to one another, proclaiming their enduring devotion.
Finally, they agree to marry and run away together. But they were found out. A fight ensues and our brave young colonist is killed. Overcome by grief, our young maiden paddles her canoe to the deepest part of the lake. Tying a rock to her body, she then casts herself into the water, but not before casting a sinister curse over the entire lake, saying because her love was unfulfilled, one young man will drown in the lake every year from then on.
Now here is where it gets bizarre. Folks around the lake say at least one person has drowned every year over the past 200 years, with most of them being young men.

Lake Lanier, Georgia
Is there something sinister happening at Georgia's Lake Lanier?
The 38,000-acre lake 40 miles north of downtown Atlanta is one of the state's most popular getaway destinations. The grim stats however also show that for many, it was also their final destination.
Constructed over 50 years ago, the lake is cursed with a ghoulish legacy. In making way for the water, workers unearthed and relocated the remains of nearly 20 cemeteries before flooding the valley. Those empty graves and scores of ghost towns were then entombed under fathoms of lake water, bestowing a fair share of strange mysteries to the area.
By far the best ghost story is the spine-chilling tale of Susie Roberts and Delia Mae Parker Young. Driving home in 1958, they missed the bridge and met their fate in the murky water. For over a year, it was a mystery of what had happened to them, until the lake released Delia's body from the deep. It must have been a terrible sight; wearing a blue dress, her body was missing both hands and her left foot was minus two toes. Ever since the accident, there had been rumors circulating about the Lady of the Lake. A ghost with no hands wandering on the bridge in her blue dress trying to find her hands.
It took 32 more years to recover Susie's body. In November 1990 a construction crew working on the bridge discovered a car with Susie's remains inside. It was a mystery solved, but tales of Lady of the Lake appearing near the bridge still persist.

Lake Lanier

Add that to the fact that over the years there have been a disproportionate amount of deaths associated with the lake, ranging from boating accidents, drownings, and drivers careening off the road into the water, as well as several unsolved murders, giving the lake a menacing and spooky reputation. According to 2017 article in The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, since 1994 at least 160 people have died in or around the lake. It's not hard to see why the local population thinks the lake is cursed.
The stories from accident survivors and near-drowning victims concur that the waters seem to be damned. There are accounts of boats hitting something where there is nothing, watercraft capsizing for no apparent reason and sudden waves without warning. In drowning incidents, the survivors have described the sensation of being pulled under by unseen hands.
Could they be the missing hands of the Lady of the Lake, or could it be the Angel of Death come calling?
For many, the lake's latest ghost story may be its most frightening. It has been reported that several eyewitnesses have seen in the dead of the night a mysterious ghostly raft piloted by a shadowy specter. Similar to the boatman on mythological River Styx, the phantom is holding a lantern and guiding the craft with a pole. The apparition appears out of nowhere before disappearing in the darkness.

Manchac Swamp, Louisiana
Nothing is creepier than a swamp. Adrift in the murky water, be on the lookout for snakes, gators and in the Manchac Swamp, the spectral spirit of a voodoo priestess who just happened to leave behind a death wish that to this day still plagues the swamp.
Located near New Orleans, the Manchac Swamp is a web of waterways through a forest of bald cypress, water tupelo, and freshwater marshes. Its resident ghost is said to be Julia Brown, who before dropping dead in 1915 made a terrifying prediction to the townsfolk, singing, “One day I’m gonna die, and I’m gonna take all of you with me.”
She was true to her word. The day of her funeral a devastating hurricane ripped through the entire village, killing hundreds. So many in fact, that locals claim it’s still common for skeletons to resurface today drifting in the muggy swamp.

1915 Hurricane

“The water was washin’ in the front door," Louis Barbier, recounted his experience. "We thought we were gone. All the camps down there are gone. On the big lake, that had big timber, big cypress timber, it was just like a big boar went along there."
Today, the only thing that remains on the island where Brown’s village once stood is a mass grave where the dead were buried. Over the years, hundreds of people have experienced the sound of a ghostly voice singing Bown’s infamous song.
Both the 2009 A&E special Extreme Paranormal and 2013 SyFy series Haunted Highway believe they caught substantial evidence of the unexplained paranormal activity on camera while filming an episode in the swamp.

White Rock Lake, Texas
One of Dallas' best-known ghost stories is the Lady of the Lake, who haunts White Rock Lake Park. It starts like any late night campfire tale, a young couple on a romantic moonlit drive around the lake encounter a young beautiful girl dressed in a sheer white dress along the road, dripping wet and soaked from head to foot.

That first account was published in the Texas Folklore Society’s publication, Backwoods to Border, in 1943. Ever since then, the legend of the Lady of the Lake has grown. One account has the apparition as a drowning victim from a boating accident in the 1930s, while another has the lost soul being a distraught bride a victim of a tragic suicide.
Dallas-area newspapers published reports of ghostly encounters in the 1960s, while on Halloween night in 1985, several psychics held a candlelight vigil trying to contact the Lady without much luck. But if you want to take a drive along the lake, we recommend waterproof seat covers just to be safe.

Veteran's Lake, Oklahoma
The stories related to Veterans Lake read more like a script from a low-budget Hollywood horror film. A pair of vengeful phantasms that wreak havoc by luring unsuspecting people into the water and drowning them after sundown.
As the story goes, back the 1950s a woman was watching her son play in the small man-made lake in what is now the Chickasaw National Recreation Area. The mother, distracted for only a moment, looked up to see that her son had disappeared under the water. Being a good mother she rushed into the lake to save her son, only to be pulled under herself, resulting in them both drowning.
But the story doesn't end there. A few years later, it was said that another girl drowned in the lake as a result of a boating accident, and now as the night nears the two apparitions can be seen hovering over the lake searching for their next victims.
Considered one of the most haunted places in all of Oklahoma, the lake often induces a feeling of unease and panic in visitors after the sun sets. Linked to a 2015 murder and kidnapping and 2009 incident where a man drowned while trying the save the life a young child that had difficulty swimming, the lake's reputation for creepiness has only increased.

Lake Superior, Minnesota, Michigan & Wisconsin
Mariners say Lake Superior seldom gives up her dead. Icy and cold, it's called the "Graveyard of the Great Lakes" with harrowing tales of shipwrecks, spooky lighthouses, and ghost ships.
While not as famous as the Edmund Fitzgerald, the freighter Canada Steamship Lines SS Kamloops disappeared in 1927 with 22 people onboard while steaming towards Isle Royale. The search continued for the next 50 years before divers found the vessel in 1977. While exploring the engine room, they reported a preserved body that appeared to follow them around the room.

SS Kamloops

The lake's lonely picturesque lighthouses also produce a wide variety of ghosts. Witnesses at the Marquette Harbor Lighthouse have described the ghostly figure of a girl, seen staring out the upper floor window, peering out at the horizon towards the big lake.
At the Big Bay Point Lighthouse B&B, to this day, guests are awakened by the ghost of an elderly groundskeeper with Coast Guard attire standing at the foot of their bed in the middle of the night morning the loss of his son, before then vanishing back into the walls.
Meanwhile at Split Rock Lighthouse, local legend says a visitor in the mid-1980s saw a man in a lightkeeper's uniform on the catwalk long after the museum had closed for the evening. When he returned the next day, he was told no one was in the tower after hours.
The sight of ghost ships has circulated throughout the big lake's history. The latest account happened in October of 2016 when Jason Asselin and a friend were taking in the fall foliage in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. When they stopped to photograph a gorgeous rainbow over the lake, things got spooky.
“We were looking at it [the rainbow] and noticed the object”, Asselin told CBS News, “I zoomed in and still couldn’t understand what I was seeing. I’ve been there before and never saw it before. It really just didn’t belong there, I’ve seen ships before and it looked nothing like that."
They watched it for a while before it just disappeared.

Spirit Lake, Idaho
Near the Coeur d'Alene, nestled in a scenic mountain valley, Spirit Lake paints a dreamlike view of Shangri-La. Often a veil of mist floats over the lake intermingling with through dark silhouetted pines standing guard at the water's edge. It's a virtual happily-ever-after with the lake's crystal clear waters and gleaming mountain views.
However, the legend of Spirit Lake doesn't have a romantic fairytale ending for our two forlorn lovers. They are united only in death, where their spirits now haunt the lake making it one of the spookiest places in Idaho.
The saga has been told for generations of Hya-Pam, the beautiful and faithful girl whose name means Fearless Running Water. She was the daughter of the tribe's chief and madly in love with one of the tribe's handsome braves.
But a villainous chieftain from another tribe threatened war if he could not have the lovely Hya-Pam for his very own. Wanting peace for his people Hya-Pam's father could only agree.

Spirit Lake

Now the story from here on has several endings, so pick your favorite.
One says, on the day of the marriage ceremony. Hya-Pam's true love kills the evil chieftain and rescues her in a canoe. But in their escape across the lake, a rain of arrows fall upon them, killing them both. In another version, Hya-Pam's true love is killed in the battle as she escapes in a canoe. But seeing he has been killed, she paddles to the middle of the lake and throws her body overboard. Meanwhile, the last story has the two lovers tying themselves together and leaping from Suicide Cliff into the lake, never to be found again.
All the endings of course resulted in the same tragic conclusion, so don't plan on there being a Disney movie anytime soon. So sad in fact, that the Native Americans changed the name of the lake from "Clear Water" to "Lake of the Spirits." because in the spring they hear mournful and haunting sounds emanating from along its shores.
And to this day, people often report seeing the two young lovers ghostly silhouettes on moonlit nights paddling the lake in their phantom canoe till it disappears into the mist.

Lake Tahoe, California
Rising 150-feet out the water, Fannette Island, Lake Tahoe's only rocky isle, is found in scenic Emerald Bay on the west shore of the lake. It's been called many things over the past 100 years; Coquette, Baranoff, Hermit's, but by far its creepiest name was Dead Man's Island.
Captain Dick Barter lived on the island in the 1870s. A retired British sea captain, he looked after a railroad tycoon's five-room summer villa. A recluse who enjoyed the company of drink, he would pilot his dinghy he called The Nancy to Tahoe City or the South Shore to visit the local saloons, often coming back sozzled.
It was one occasion in January 1870, Captain Dick capsized his boat in the chilly waters of the lake.
"The night was of inky blackness, the weather intensely cold, the mercury being many degrees below zero,” Captain Dick told a local reporter, “I knew it was useless to call for help. I also knew if I got in my boat and attempted to reach the shore, I should certainly freeze to death.”
He made it back but ended up amputating his own toes after the harrowing experience.

Captain Dick's Chapel

Fearing the lake had his number, he chiseled a tomb in the island's granite and erected a wooden chapel and mounted a wooden cross on top. He let it be known to his bar buddies that if it ever happens again and his body washes ashore, he would like to buried on the island.
The lake did in fact have his number and claimed Captain Dick's life on October 18, 1873, as he was returning from Tom Rowland’s Lake House Saloon. His boat was found smashed to bits against the rocks at Rubicon Point.
They never found his body. His tomb on Dead Man's Island remains empty to this day. But it is said, on chilly evenings in October when the mist provides an eerie bridge to the isle, the ghost of Captain Dick can be seen rising from the lake's icy grip and climbing up the steep weathered rock in search of his final resting place on Fannette Island.

Stow Lake, California
Of all the sights to see San Francisco, Golden Gate Park's Stow Lake is understandably not necessarily at the top of the list. Surprisingly, however, it's the site of The City by the Bay's favorite ghost story.

Stow Lake

Created in 1893, the 12-acre doughnut-shaped pond is a perfect spot daytime for a stroll, a picnic, or pedal boat ride around Strawberry Hill Island. However, for those brave enough to visit after dark, you just might encounter "The White Lady". Not a shy ghost like most, she will rise out of the lake as a glowing white apparition and in a haunting yet terrified voice, she will ask you only one question, "Have you seen my baby?"
The story is as old as the lake itself. A young mother had brought her baby to the park in a stroller to enjoy the day. Stopping briefly to talk with another woman sitting on a bench, she does not notice that stroller and baby have rolled away from her and into the lake. When she realizes her baby is gone, the scene turns into every parent's nightmare as she frantically rushes around the searching for the lost child and asking everyone she sees if they have seen her baby. Her horror is only magnified when she comprehends that stroller and baby must be in the lake. She goes into the lake herself and never resurfaces.
The grief-stricken mother is never identified and the only clue that the story could be possibly true comes from a newspaper account. On July 10, 1906, The San Francisco Call reported that two girls living in a nearby camp, set up after the Great Earthquake, said they saw "the naked body of a baby floating" in nearby Lloyd Lake. According to the newspaper, police investigated and even dragged the lake but could find no trace of the body.
Over the past century, the narrative has only grown. A popular urban legend says you can even summon the lady by chanting “White lady, white lady, I have your baby" three times at the water's edge. Of course, answering her question will lead to either a lifetime of haunting or instant death, so it's probably not a good idea when you visit.
Although that pedal boat ride sounds fun. But in the daytime of course.

So do you believe in ghosts? Or are they just creepy stories passed down over the years? Whatever the answer is, these tales have become intertwined with the history and lore of the lakes. They have captured our imaginations and provide us an opportunity for a spooky paddling adventure to go see for ourselves.

IT'S NO PICNIC

When I paddle I usually pick up trash along the way. Over the years I have taken part in river cleanups and made a pledge with American Rivers to pick up 3 pieces of trash every time I paddle. I'm in the habit now, of steering toward a floating plastic bottle or fishing a beer can or plastic bag out of a tree. As a steward of the lake or river, I feel it's my obligation to pick up and pack out litter along the waterways I travel.

According to Mother Nature Network, The earth's oceans have a big plastic problem. They receive roughly 8 million metric tons of plastic waste every year, washing there from its shore and carried thereby inland littered rivers.
Those plastic bottles and bottle caps we all use aren’t biodegradable, but they do photodegrade. That means that the plastic breaks down into small parts in the sun, and releases chemicals into the environment. The worst part, of course, is like the plastic crumbles into smaller pieces called microplastics, it often will fatally trick marine wildlife into eating it.

While plastic bottles are one of the biggest culprits. American Rivers listed the four most common trash items found at river cleanups other plastic bottles.

Cigarette Butts  Can you believe they weigh one gram or less, but they account for 30% of all litter in the United States.

Food Packaging  Tossed Food containers is the largest category of waste usually picked up during cleanup drives. It includes household packaging (i.e. milk jugs, juice boxes, and snack packaging) as well as fast food packaging (i.e. paper, Styrofoam, paperboard wrappings, coffee cups, and drink cups). Almost half of the litter in the United States is food packaging. Think about that on your next picnic and while some of these items could be recycled, most are not, and often these are found weighing down shorelines and waterways.

Plastic Bags  Plastic bags are so common in the United States that over 100 billion bags are used each year. Over three times more bags end up as litter in our forests and waterways than are recycled annually. Plastic bags take almost as long to degrade as plastic bottles, leach chemicals into the environment, and inhibit natural water flows. The good news, however, is after California banned most stores from handing out flimsy, single-use plastic bags, according to the LA Times, data has shown plastic bags (both the banned and the legal variety) accounted for 3.1% of the litter collected from the state's beaches during the 2017 Coastal Cleanup Day, down from to 7.4% in 2010.


Aluminum Cans  Almost 100 billion aluminum cans are used in the U.S. annually, and only about half of these cans are recycled. The rest goes to landfills or into the environment. Beverage containers account for 50% of roadside litter (though this statistic includes plastic containers), and much of that is washed into our waterways.

Of course, nowhere on this list did you find a picnic table, but my wife and I found one in floating in the middle of Lake Natoma last month. We could only assume it pushed or pulled into the lake by someone who doesn't love the rivers and lakes as much as we do. I find it disturbing that someone could have such destructive malice towards a body of water I love so dearly.
My wife and I did our best to push the floating picnic table to shore. I used the bow of my kayak to navigate to a spot on the shore where we could lift it out of the water. It was slow going. The table continued to fall away from my bow as I angled it toward shore. But each time I caught the table again and inched along closer to shore.
When we got to the shore, a fisherman on the bank helped pull that table as much as we could up on to dry ground. It was wet and heavy, but we got it mostly out of the water.

It was no picnic getting that table out of the water but it does remind us that pieces of trash and things like picnic tables seem to end up in our local streams, lakes, and rivers. So I encourage everyone making cleaning up the waterway part of your paddling routine. Take American Rivers' Clean Up River Pledge to pick up 25 pieces of trash over the next 25 days. Clean up our rivers and help build a virtual landfill! After you take the pledge, take a photo of your trash, and post on Twitter, Instagram or Vine using the hashtag #rivercleanup. Whether you’re out on the water or in your neighborhood picking up litter, show them how well you clean up.


MISSION COMPLETE 
Paddler Joseph Mullin ended his 5,000-mile solo kayaking journey to create awareness for Mission 22, a national organization aimed at suicide prevention among veterans and active military members on September 30, in Key West, Florida. Called the, One Man, One Mission, To Save Thousands Expedition, Mullin started his trek on April 30, 2017, at Quoddy Head Lighthouse in Maine. For more read our Q/A with Mullin.

Courtesy of Joseph Mullin

LAKE SUPERIOR SPITS BACK MAN'S LONG-LOST CANOE
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead when skies turn gloomy, but it did exactly that when it mysteriously returned Paul Kellner's canoe that had been missing for over a year after a storm raged over Duluth, Minnesota, and Lake Superior earlier this month.
“It’s the weirdest thing,” Kellner told the Forum News Service, “Do I think the lake spit it back out? “No. I like to think it’s aliens, because why not have fun with it?”

Courtesy of MPR News

Kellner's blue 16-foot pale durable Old Town canoe vanished from his lakeside home over a year ago. Thinking it had been stolen, Kellner didn't expect to see it again. So it came as a big surprise when one of his teenage sons came rushing into the house amid the storm to proclaimed, “Dad, the canoe’s back!”"It's just an odd, odd story," Kellner said, “I’ve always thought there was something magic about Duluth, "
Especially when the gales of November come early.

BWCA TURNS 40
Forty years ago this month, on October 21, 1978, President Jimmy Carter signed into law the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness Act. The act amended the national Wilderness Act of 1964 to provide management to protect, preserve, and enhance the lakes, waterways and forested areas of Minnesota's BWCA while guaranteeing the elimination all logging, snowmobiling, and mining.
While an estimated 150,000 people visit the BWCA each year, the wilderness area is still under threat from the risks of proposed copper-nickel mining within its watershed.

MY WALDEN

"A lake is the landscape's most beautiful and expressive feature. It is Earth's eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature." - Henry David Thoreau

It's a right turn. Another right after a block. Then down the hill and across the bridge. To my right, is the river, to my left is the lake. A left turn towards the park entrance and through the gate. A wave to the park attendant gate and then turn left into the parking lot. The kayak comes off the roof and slides into the water.
I'm on the lake now and paddling hard to cross it. Only a little further to go as I  round the bend into quiet waters. My kayak whisperers as I glide through the culvert under the bike trail. I'm there now. My own personal Walden.

Walden or Life in the Woods written by Henry David Thoreau, philosopher, and naturalist in 1854, is a reflection upon living simply in nature's surroundings. Thoreau detailed his daily experiences over the course of two years, two months, and two days in a cabin he built near Walden Pond in the woods owned by his friend and mentor, Ralph Waldo Emerson near Concord, Massachusetts.

"In such a day, in September or October, Walden is a perfect forest mirror, set round with stones as precious to my eye as if fewer or rarer. Nothing so fair, so pure, and at the same time so large, as a lake, perchance, lies on the surface of the earth. Sky water. It needs no fence. Nations come and go without defiling it. It is a mirror which no stone can crack, whose quicksilver will never wear off, whose gilding Nature continually repairs; no storms, no dust, can dim its surface ever fresh; — a mirror in which all impurity presented to it sinks, swept and dusted by the sun's hazy brush — this the light dust-cloth — which retains no breath that is breathed on it, but sends its own to float as clouds high above its surface, and be reflected in its bosom still." -Henry David Thoreau

Some 160 years later, I find this same peace and solitude paddling in the sloughs of Lake Natoma. There is only one way in and one way out. No rush after that. Only a watery path meandering through little islands that geese, ducks, and frogs call home. Along the way, I hear the plop of turtles falling off the dead logs into the water. I can see them for only moments before they slip under the dark water. I'm just a little too close, I suppose.

There is a touch of color along the banks. Bright reds and dull yellows in the trees give notice that it is autumn in northern California. Blackberry bushes line the water's edge. Weeks ago they were full of ripe berries, but they are mostly gone now. Up and away, towards the end of the slough, cattails take over the view. Ducks and deer are common here. The deer stand motionless hoping not to be seen before escaping into the woods, while the ducks swim about used to visitors.

The kayak makes little sound gliding through the water. My paddle slides in and out methodically.  There is no hurry at my Walden.

This article was originally published in Outside Adventure to the Max on October 31. 2014 

 

Seal slaps kayaker in the face with an octopus

A kayaker in New Zealand has become a viral sensation after a seal slapped him the face with an octopus last month.
Kyle Mulinder was paddling with friends off the coast of Kaikoura when he felt the big wet slap in the face and realized it was an octopus that was whipped at him by a seal.
"Out of nowhere, it literally rose from the depths, as it was mid-fight, thrashed it around, and the rest is history," Mulinder told Australia's Network 10 News. “It was weird because it happened so fast but I could feel all the hard parts of the octopus on my face like 'dum dum dum'.”
Caught on camera by Taiyo Masuda, the octopus slap has been viewed hundreds of thousands of times all over the world and made Mulinder an instant star.
"My Uber driver who just brought us here (for a television interview) just goes 'you're the guy, you're the octopus guy'."

 

ROUGH ROAD TO SERENITY

 

                                     Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations

Up until then, everything had been OK. But, then the road suddenly stopped! Being a road, that is. Huge ruts and massive rocks block our way. We sat at the point of turning around, going back and finding another way. Meadow Lake Road on the east end of Bowman Lake looked more like a mountain goat trail than a lane of travel.

In all my trips to the water, it's always been fairly simple. For trips to Lake Natoma or the Lower American River, stops signs, traffic, and parking spots are my biggest concerns. With a little luck,  I'll squeeze into a spot at the boat ramp instead of having to park further away after dropping the kayak off at the water edge. For bigger trips, I'll leave the driveway, wade through traffic to the interstate, speed along to the exit, and end up getting stuck behind a slow-moving tractor or truck on the blacktop. At the crossing, I'll turn off the blacktop and drive on gravel down to the boat ramp.

"It’s the portage that makes traveling by canoe unique." said famed paddling guru Bill Mason. He, of course, was referring to hauling canoes through the northern woods from lake to lake. That's how it's done in places like the BWCA. Canoes are inserted on to lakes and streams and then carried by hand to other lakes and streams in between. Meanwhile, whitewater extremists will hike and climb miles transporting their kayaks up mountains to attempt the first descent of a waterfall or canyon creek. The paddling is the easy part, getting to the water is always the ordeal.

Our friend Curt Hough told me, it was a place we just had to paddle. High in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, Lake Foucherie is an outdoor paradise. Clear water, mountain views, and towering pines encompass the lake. It's a hidden and remote treasure that offers more that than just tranquil splendor, but serenity as well. It's so beautiful that photographer Ansel Adams just might have switched to color film to photograph its grandeur.
We gathered in my pickup with tandem kayak on top and looked forward to what naturalist John Muir described as an inexpressible delight of wading out into the grassy sun-lake when he wrote, "Feeling yourself contained in one of Nature's most sacred chambers, withdrawn from the sterner influences of the mountains, secure from all intrusion, secure from yourself, free in the universal beauty."

The Bowman Lake Road off of Highway 20 on the northern end of California's Nevada County is bumpy but well-traveled by four-wheel-drive pickup and Jeeps. It weaves and winds, mostly on gravel in a northerly fashion past Fuller Lake and then on up to the dam site.
The Meadow Lake Road begins just below Bowman Reservoir's Dam, turning off and winding up the mountain. The road is rocky and a bit unnerving with a steep drop off at ones the side. It would be a wonderful breath-taking view of the mountains and valley if I hadn't been holding my breath at the sight of the depth chasm.
About halfway up we came to our roadblock. There was just no way my truck could clear those ruts and rocks. We regrouped, turned around and went back down to find a different road up the mountain via GPS.

The first road must have been the express lane for four-wheel drivers and mountain goats. The other road adorned with switchbacks, but they still meet together for the same view Bowman Lake. At an elevation of 5,585 feet, the lake gleams through our windshield. Its fortress-like granite rock formations line the lake buffering it between the water and sky. The north side road runs parallel along the steep lakeshore. It was slow going, but, our destination seems to be in grasp.

All the way to the end of the lake and past Jackson Creek the road went from good to bad, to worse. My wife Debbie had taken the wheel now and she compared the road to a dried-up river bed.
The washboard grooves and stones tested the truck's tires and shock absorbers while driving up what looked like an evaporated stream.
I even got out of the truck and walked ahead in spots and clearing rocks and guiding Debbie to even ground.
At the Jackson Creek Campground, the road splits and leads to Sawmill Lake and Lake Foucherie. That road wasn't any better. It was a rugged adventurous drive over a parched creek bed and along a narrow pine-lined path.
When we limped into the Sawmill Lake Campground and saw the sight of Sawmill Lake, we agreed that we would just have to save Lake Foucherie for another day and unloaded our kayaks.

After the rigorous day of travel, the payoff came softly.
Sawmill Lake cooled us off in an instant. The water gave us relief, the pines refreshed us and the majestic mountain views mesmerized us with their beauty. It wasn't our original destination, but the wilderness always seems to sing to me. You made it!  It was the journey that mattered and the adventure in just getting there. Now enjoy my serenity.

Naturalist Sigurd Olson thought of it that way. He said, "And that, I believe, is one of the reasons why coming home from any sort of a primitive expedition is a real adventure. Security and routine are always welcome after knowing the excitement and the unusual. We need contrast to make us know we are really alive."

This article was originally published in Outside Adventure to the Max September 4. 2015

CELEBRATING THE RIVERS OF AMERICAN

 Photos courtesy of Tim Palmer

Outside Adventure to the Max Guest Blogger Tim Palmer

An unspoiled river is a very rare thing in this Nation today. Their flow and vitality have been harnessed by dams and too often they have been turned into open sewers by communities and by industries. It makes us all very fearful that all rivers will go this way unless somebody acts now to try to balance our river development. -- President Lyndon Johnson's remarks on signing the Wild & Scenic Rivers Act, October 2, 1968


When I need to brighten my day, I go to the river.

I walk along the shore, or sit for a while at the water’s edge and listen to the swish, or the babble, or the exciting bubbly rush of flow. Always moving when the rest of the landscape is still, the river holds me rapt, and if I stare long enough, it mesmerizes and takes me away to a special place where the rest of the world — along with its eternal complications, everyday demands, and political disappointments — seems like a thousand miles away. And floating on the river is even better, drifting with the current wherever it goes.

Part of the appeal of rivers likely has an evolutionary context: our bodies are nearly 70 percent water, and every drop comes from a river or from groundwater, which is inseparably connected to the surface flow. Rivers are essential to our lives and communities, and they also create the finest of all wildlife habitat. Their free-flow from mountains to sea makes possible the iconic runs of salmon and steelhead in the Northwest, and of other fish throughout the nation.

Montana’s Flathead River

Through the 1960s our natural rivers — and all of their attributes — were being lost at an astonishing rate by the construction of large dams. Some 70,000 had been built on virtually every major river, and hundreds more were proposed, planned or under construction regardless of their economic worthiness, their hydrologic capabilities to supply water, or their unintended but harmful effects on fish, wildlife, recreation and landowners.

Rising against this backdrop of gung-ho damming, Congress passed the National Wild and Scenic Rivers Act in 1968 with unanimous support in the Senate and with a bipartisan 265-7 vote in the House. Seeking balance of federal policies that for a century had encouraged development at any cost, the law recognized that some of our finest natural streams should remain the way they are. The new law represented nothing less than a new way for a nation to regard its rivers, its landscape, and its environment.

For selected rivers, the program bans dams or other federal projects harmful to the streams, and it encourages other means of protection for fish, wildlife, water quality and historic values. Intending to go beyond the initial 8 designated rivers (12 counting major tributaries), the Act established protocols for adding rivers to the system.
Designation in this foremost program for river stewardship sets the stage for better management of recreation of all types. The resulting national prestige has also bolstered efforts to protect stream front open space, to reinstate healthier flows in diverted sections of some rivers, to develop trails, and to reinforce local communities and economies.

Pennsylvania’s Delaware River

Today, as we near the 50th anniversary of the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act, nearly 300 rivers have been set aside nationwide. That spells success, though, among 2.9 million miles of rivers and streams in the nation, only 0.4 percent are safeguarded in this program.

The next week's anniversary of the National Wild and Scenic Rivers Act on October 2, 2018, is a cause to celebrate the legacy of all who have worked for the health of America’s finest streams. It also challenges us to do more. Perhaps most important, national recognition through this federal law — enacted half a century ago — can inspire all to engage further in ongoing efforts aimed at protecting and restoring these and other waterways.

Learn more about the 50th anniversary of the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act by visiting American Rivers and 5000miles.org.

Tim Palmer is an award-winning author of 26 books on rivers, conservation, and the environment. He has received the National Outdoor Book Award, the Communicator of the Year Award from the National Wildlife Federation and the Lifetime Achievement Award from American Rivers. Living the life as a nomad he and his wife author Ann Vileisis traveled the country for 11 years in a Ford van while they did their research and writing before settling down on in a small town on the Pacific coast.

In his latest book, Wild and Scenic Rivers: An American Legacy, he shows us the beauty and wonders these streams that have been safeguarded under the National Wild and Scenic Rivers Act with 160 spectacular images. You can see more of Palmer work at www.timpalmer.org.

Outside Adventure to the Max is always looking for guest bloggers. Contact us at Nickayak@gmail.com, if you are interested.

KAYAK SUMMER 2018

         Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air. --- Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have found that summers linger in Northern California. There are no hurricane warnings or threats of frost or snow. The mornings at the lake have a certain crispness where you just might need a sweater, at least through breakfast. Outside of my favorite Starbucks adding Pumpkin Spice Latte to the menu board and slow traffic coming from nearby Apple Hill, it feels as if summer is not all that anxious to concede to autumn just yet. But it's on way.

"There is something deep within us that sobs at endings." wrote American author Joe Wheeler, "Why, God, does everything have to end? Why does all nature grow old? Why do spring and summer have to go?"

Lake Jenkinson

Bittersweet for some. A celebration of the change of seasons for others. No matter how you regard it, this Saturday marks the first day of fall, which of course subsequently, means its the official end of summer.

To keep my memories burning bright heading fall, I like to look back at some of my favorite images I created over the summer. Some picture-perfect tranquil moments are accompanied by some fast-paced and lively shots of my time on the water. They compose the snapshots of my summer recollections. But, of course, they are not the whole story.

In a recent Paddling Magazine article title Unforgettable, Everything Instagram Won't Tell You About Canoe Tripping, writer Kaydi Pyette says that her most memorable moments aren't always perfectly lit and beautifully composed, but are the gritty and hard moments hard moments of her trips.

The American River Parkway

"What Instagram so rarely shows is the side canoe tripping not so splendidly picture perfect. There are bugs,"  she wrote, "Followers don't get to see the hours of tediousness invested in capturing this one outrageously perfect moment. we don't see the work it takes to align the gear, sunlight, smoke signals and hang those twee tinkle lights just so."

Guilty as charged. Because I'm not going to tell you how I rolled and swam in front of everyone at San Juan Rapids, ripped the seat of pants while working the boat dock at Sly Park and sliced my big toe on rocks on North Fork of American River. The same goes for loading and unloading trailers of boats, dumping kayaks full of water and long shuttle drives, they just go with the territory.

They were all outweighed by watching a shy kid learn to kayak, helping a father, in an age-old tradition of taking his children on their very first canoe ride and coaching a determined Eppies Great Race participant take on the rapids of Lower American River. Summer 2018, like all my paddling summer before, those are the memories that will kindle in the consciousness of mind.

Sly Park

"When summer opens," wrote American transcendentalist essayist Ralph Waldo Emerson, "I see how fast it matures, and fear it will be short; but after the heats of July and August, I am reconciled, like one who has had his swing, to the cool of autumn."

There is something incredibly nostalgic about paddling into the fall season. The lakes are quiet. Gone are the crowds and motorboats and the only sound you will hear are those of nature. The trees are ablaze with a canvas of bold-colors reflecting on the undisturbed peaceful waters.

It was early morning on the lake last weekend. Idly in a canoe, I lingered just a bit longer, before dipping my paddle. The water is still warm enough for a swim, but the air was noticeably cooler. In the distance, a wispy veil of mist hovers over its surface. It's the ghost of summer, I suppose.

Sly Park's Lake Jenkinson

A moonlit paddle on Lake Natoma with Current Adventures.

John Weed and kids classes with Current Adventures.

Debbie Carlson's new SUP on Lake Natoma.

Paddling after dark with Bayside Adventure Sports.

Eppies training with Current Adventures .

Fall comes to Lower American River.

Want to see more photos? Follow me on Instagram

@nickayak
The official feed of Outside Adventure to the Max. Follow us on river trips along the American River and the lakes of the Sierra with Current Adventures as we count my paddling days of the year.

BOATHOUSE DAYS

        I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately -- Henry David Thoreau 

On a July day in 1845, Henry David Thoreau embarked on a two-year odyssey of living simply in a small house on the shores of Walden Pond. Nine years later after revising his manuscript, he published his classic Walden, or Life in the Woods recounting his time on the lake.

While I have to admit I'm no Thoreau, but through a series of events this past summer, I found myself embracing the charm, beauty, and tranquility of the lake, much like he did at Walden Pond, while running the small boathouse and rentals operation on Lake Jenkinson at Sly Park Recreation Area during the weekends.

Lake Jenkinson is an idyllic setting nestled in the Sierra foothills near Pollock Pines, California. Surrounded by a fringe of tall pines that reminded me of lakes of the Northwoods of my past. Divided by a narrow channel, the lake has two main parts. The larger rounded lower lake is home to the speedboats, picnic, and campgrounds and swimming beach, while the upper lake is narrower, much quieter and home to the boathouse. Over the summer, while renting out a slew of kayaks, canoes and standup paddleboards, I kept a series of notes recounting events and my daily observations of the lake.

June 17...It's Father's Day at Sly Park. Dan Crandall and The River Store took over the Sly Park Boat this season and so far it seems business is good. We have four canoes, a dock full of kayaks and seven paddleboards ready to rent. It's all fun stuff on one of the area's most beautiful lakes.  
Dan has two other employees working here, one doing the paperwork while other loads and unloads the people into the crafts to get them on their way. I'll be training most of the day to learn the operation. 

June 24...It was the summer solstice a few days ago. The long hot days of summer days, at last, sparking my memories like lightning bugs as each dazzling thought of summers past flickers in my head. If you would have told me I would someday be in Northern California running a boat rental house and dock on pine encompassed lake I would've never have believed it. How could I be so lucky? But, here I am, renting kayaks and canoes on the lake.
  

July 6...The sounds of children laughing and the waves rocking the dock is the soundtrack of the lake. It's my perfect world as the neighborhood eagle soars overhead. 
My wife Debbie is working with me today and it was a little slow at the start, but business picked up later in the afternoon. Single kayaks and SUPs are $20 dollars an hour while tandem kayaks and canoes are $30. It makes for a fun day for folks wanting to get out on to the water.

July 14...The lake is busy today. At one time, we had all the boats rented out on the water. The pace is brisk for me. Checking folks in and getting them outfitted to be on the lake. 
The canoes look fine, but I've not been able to paddle them yet. They're Old Town canoes and they look right out of my memories of Minnesota. We can get a family on the water with little problems with them. The big sit on top ocean kayaks are like the ones I paddled in LaJolla. The tandems kayaks are long, wide and mostly heavy.

From here on, my time at the boathouse turns into a more solitary experience outside a few visits from my wife Debbie. The two other employees who started off the season quit for one reason or another leaving me alone much like Thoreau 173 years ago on banks of Walden Pond.

July 27...A misty haze covers the lake and trees of Lake Jenkinson. There are fires burning all over California pushing their streams of smoke into the hills and mountains. I can see only the dark silhouetted shadows of tree points showing through the milky cloud. By the way, it looks I would think it would be cooler because it's more similar to the appearance of a marine layer's cold wet fog. But it's not so. Temperatures here have been boiling. Even an escape by jumping into the lake isn't as refreshing as it should be, being it's almost like bathwater at 78 degrees. 

August 3...A return to my roots today as I take the Old Town Discovery canoe out on the lake before I open up the boathouse. I can't go far. Just across the lake and back. Canoeing is how I got into paddling I told Dan when he dropped off a load of kayaks and PFDs that afternoon. That's when I learned to paddle by taking trips on the Missouri and Niobrara rivers. I'm still kicking my self that I didn't take the trip to the BWCA when I had the chance.
Like riding a bike, I remember. The bow slightly raised out of the water as I paddle from the side to side from the stern.

August 5...Finally a clear morning. Waking up the boathouse, I'm always taken in by the pine and aroma of the forest. Each prickly needle and cone giving off the unmistakable fragrance of the woods and lake. It stops me for a moment to breathe it all in.

August 10...It's one of those Thoureu like mornings. It's started off a very quiet morning on the lake only a few fishermen gently motoring by otherwise it's pretty much like it would be a 100 years ago. As I float in the stillness I think everyone should appreciate an escape to a quiet lake.
So it's more than little upsetting when loud music rap interrupts the silence from the upper campground. At times like these, as Sigurd Olson said, "All noise is sacrilege."

August 11...I think back on all the times I thought about how hard it was to roll a canoe, but with two people rolling over today within sight of the boat dock losing a shoe and cell phone in the process. I have to say some folks find a way.

As summer continued I followed a uniformed routine at the boathouse that usually consisted of getting up early on Fridays, Saturday, and Sundays and driving the 45 miles to the lake. Upon arrival, I would zigzag down a steep trail and open the gate and unlock the house floating on the dock.
The cumbersome part of the day was removing the heavy but sturdy paddle boards that I had locked away inside the house on my last visit and stow them alongside on the house. From there I would get all release forms and cashbox ready and wait for customers to come walking down the trail.
On command, the wind from the east dies just after nine turning the lake into glossy reflective paradise. It's only for a couple of hours before the west wind comes gusting back through the narrows.
This was my opportunity to take out a canoe or paddle board and float idly in the emerald green of the water a short distance from the dock. It's was time to reflect and observe. It's was my favorite time on the lake.

August 19...A rocky red bathtub ring emerges around the lake between the trees and the water. Without rain, it's common in the summer months as the lake is slowly drained away. The boat patrol guy that drops by daily says it's at 85% capacity.  But, he says he has seen much worse. 
How far to the waterfall? The customers will ask. It's not far, but it's not flowing, I'll tell them sadly. You will have to come back in the spring.

August 24...Paddle day one hundred this year spent in a canoe. Thoreau, Sigurd Olson, and Bill Mason would be proud. These guys will live on forever with every dip of the paddle. Not for showing how to canoe, but a thousand reasons why to canoe.
It's a nice way to spend a summer morning across from primeval pines silhouetted in mist and smoke on perfectly still water. with a mug coffee and brief bible lesson. In a canoe, I float in the stillness within an earshot of the boathouse. People are in such a hurry these days. They have little interest in the power of the paddle. We do have a motorboat at the boathouse that people ask to use. They're always disappointed when I say it's not for rent. 

August 26...I find it amazing how sound travels over water. While in the middle of the lake I can hear the clatter coming from campgrounds, kids yelling on the beach and each jogger footstep as they thud, thud, thud down the trail around the lake with theatre like acoustics.
The lake being an oasis for everyone,  I also listen to the many languages the coming from around the water. There is Spanish, German and Russian, Hindi, Farsi, and varieties of Chinese languages. I can't help thinking this what it would have sounded like during the Gold Rush. Now instead gold they are seeking the treasure of the water and the outside.
   

August 31...Other than visiting customers, my boathouse neighborhood consists of darting minnow and fish swimming in the dark shadows beneath the dock, two sunning turtles on stumps just out of the water and couple of lizards that quickly hide when I climb up the steps to the parking lot. In the sky two ravens and a hawk circle above. I haven't seen the eagle in several days, but he likes to sit in the high pines from across the boathouse. There are also a couple of forging ducks who hope I will drop a corn chip or two into the water.

September 2...It's Labor Day weekend and one of my busiest days of the whole summer season. At one time, all my boats except for a few were being rented. I did my best to keep everyone moving on and off the water with surprisingly good efficiency. But, when a lady rolled her kayak after getting bumped into by another, I told her to swim to the ladder and I'll retrieve the upside-down boat.
Quickly into the water, I got a hold of the kayak and hooked it to the dock. But, somewhere in process of the boat rescue, I  ripped a six-inch tear in my favorite pair of shorts. The only problem was I didn't notice it till a bit later when I was sitting on the aluminum dock steading a canoe for young lady when I noticed a burning sensation on my bare buns. Of course, I could change since my dock was so crowded customers providing some challenges. Let's just say I didn't turn my back on any of them.

September 8...We are going into extra innings at the boathouse. In the past, under the old management, they have always closed up on Labor Day. But, Dan thought let's just see what happens by keeping the place open for two weekends after the end of the summer holiday.
It turns out to be a good day renting mostly canoes and tandem kayaks Saturday afternoon as people want to try and get as many people as they can into each craft. How many does it fit they will ask? My answer is not as many as you would hope for. 

This weekend I'll wrap up my summer season at the boathouse. It's been as Thoreau called it "soothing employment" to bask in the warmth of the sun, overlooking the pond. Even though I had to push boats and canoes around throughout my day the time always seemed to go quickly. Every day brought smiling customers, visionary delights and solace on the water.

"How peaceful the phenomena of the lake." Thoreau would write of Walden Pond.

Indeed.