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From: Michael R Noyes <mnoyes_at_gsinet.net>
subject: [Paddlewise] Breakfast on Massabesic Lake (A trip report)
Date: Mon, 26 Jul 1999 20:40:49 -0400
    At 7:20 Sunday morning I met Pam and JP Stohrer, my paddling
partners for the day and organizers of the trip.  We waited until 7:30
for a hoped for fourth person, but she was unable to make it.
    Crossing under the Deer Neck bridge, we headed out into the west end
of Lake Massabesic.  The west end of the lake few homes on the shore due
to the fact that the city of Manchester owns most of the land around the
lake.  Manchester uses the lake as a water supply.  So there are spots
on the lake where you see no traces of civilization beyond the
occasional fishing boat.  Even the telephone poles are out of view.
    Exiting the channel, we took a southerly course between the mainland
and Fletcher Island, aiming for the west side of Browns Island.  Between
Fletchers Island and Browns Island we saw four loons.  These birds
showed no fear of our kayaks, with two of them approaching within thirty
feet as we drifted and watched them.  We would meet at least one of them
several times that day, as we took separate courses to common
destinations.
    Skirting the west side of Browns Island, we set our sights on Birch
Island, where we would stop for breakfast.  birch Island is better known
to Pam and JP as Beaver Island because of the resident beaver who's
mission in life was the removal of all birch trees.
    Breakfast was enjoyed by all on the shores of Birch Island.  With
the quiet natural setting and pleasant conversation with entertaining
company, how can you miss?  The fish preferred the bacon over the cheese
or crackers, and totally refused my offering from a store-bought
blueberry muffin.  Evidently the fish are a better judge than I am on
what is good for breakfast.
    After breakfast we circumnavigated Birch Island so Pam and JP could
introduce me to the Birch Island beaver.  They told me that sometimes
they can get him to come out if they "talk" to him.  Evidently he wasn't
in the mood to entertain visitors on this day, so we moved on.  We
headed over to the Grape Islands to check out the fish.  It was near
there that we saw the largest fish that we would see that day.  It was a
largemouth bass that probably weighed five pounds.  Two of us got a good
look at this fish, as our kayaks were able to glide within ten feet of
him before he moved casually away.
    Lake Massabesic has a large population of wildlife associated with
it.  Along with near record sized panfish there are largemouth and
smallmouth bass, pickerel, perch, and an occasional trout.  For birds
you can find loons, herons, ducks, geese, and a nesting pair of osprey.
Mammals such as deer, fox, coyote, and even moose are in the area, but
seldom seen on shore.
    Since we wanted to make it home before lunch, we decided that it was
time to head back.  So we set a course for the east side of Browns
Island.  Coming around Browns Island and heading back to the channel to
the boat ramp, one of our group (I'm not saying who) decided to look for
rocks.  At least that is what he said after he found a couple.  I
personally thought that this is something like looking for trees when
you are in the middle of a forest.  Lake Massabesic is where the glacier
dropped all of the rocks that it had saved for someplace special, then
added a few more to keep them company.  This has an advantage for
kayakers, it limits where power boaters can go and slows them down
through much of the lake.
    We made it back to the ramp at 10:45 and loaded the gear into our
vehicles.  then I bid a fond farewell to two new friends.  We didn't set
any distance records.  Our average speed was well below "optimal
cruise," and the largest wave we faced all day was a one and a half foot
wake.  But with the beautiful scenery, good companions, and a relaxed
atmosphere, sunday breakfast may well become my favorite meal of the
week!

Mike

--
    Paddling along through fog so thick that only one's thoughts are
visible, your reverie is abruptly shattered by the ancient cry of a
great
blue heron as she lifts uncertainly from the brilliant blue of a
mussel-shell beach witnessed only by the brooding, wet spruce....your
passage home seems as much back through time as it does through space.
Mark H Hunt


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