[Paddlewise] Trip report, Sunday April 22.

Please note that I am sending this trip report to two lists.  If you
chose to reply and don't belong to both please do the moderator a favor
and only reply to the list to which you belong.
   As those who live in the Northeast (USA) know the temperature in my
area reached  eighty on Sunday April 22nd.  Mark Taylor and I celebrated
by kayaking on Massabesic Lake on Sunday morning.  The thermometer was
hovering just over seventy degrees when we put in so it made for a
comfortable paddle.  We started at 8:40 AM from the Auburn launch ramp. 
Because the water was cold (There was ice on the lake last week) and this
was our first paddle of the year our plan was to hug the shoreline as
much as possible.  There was a light breeze blowing, just enough to cool
us without causing waves on the lake.  Although the lake was not mirror
smooth it was basically wave free for the first part of our trip. 
Heading west from our launch site our first destination was a cove with
beautiful sandy beach.  Every time I see a beach like this on Massabesic
I think about what a shame it is that swimming is not allowed in the
lake.
   Following the shoreline south we came around Currier point and headed
to Loon Island.  Located in a narrow section of the lake separating two
larger sections, the wind is usually funneled past the island.  On most
days this area has the highest winds and the most chop on the lake.  But
this was not a normal day, the winds remained light and the lake stayed
calm.  At Loon Island we met another kayaker in his new Old Town Loon. 
He was taking a break on the island.  Mark and I stayed in our kayaks as
we chatted for about ten minutes.  Then we moved on.  Our next
destination was a small cove to our west.  It was our intent to
circumnavigate the southeast “lobe” of the lake. 
   Coming around the island that guards the cove we found the glass
smooth water that everyone dreams of paddling but we so seldom find.  The
only ripples to be seen were the wakes of our kayaks as we quietly made
our way across the cove.  Silly me, I forgot my camera in the truck.  It
is hard to believe at times like this that we are paddling on the edge of
the largest city in the state.  Paddling quietly we heard a loon talking
in the next cove.  We half drifted through the cove enjoying the peace
and warmth of the area.
   Paddling out of the cove we followed the shoreline southward again. 
We were heading toward the osprey nest.  Unfortunately the osprey did not
return to their nest last year.  If anyone knows why I haven’t
heard about it.  They weren’t in evidence this year either.  Even
the buoys that mark off the keep out area were gone.  Not seeing any
osprey or buoys we were able to paddle up close to the base of the tree
the nest is in and get a better look.  The nest was impressive when seen
from almost directly beneath, looking prehistoric in size.  It is hard to
believe that any bird was able to carry some of the branches that they
used to make the nest.  Being able to get close we also saw that the
Audubon society had placed a metal band around the tree to keep climbing
predators away from the nest.  Painted in a tree bark camouflage pattern
the band blends well with the tree and cannot be seen at a distance.
   We continued south until the shoreline arched to the east.  Along the
southernmost edge of the eastern side of the lake there is a normally
sandy beach that separates the lake from a section of marsh just beyond. 
We had planned on getting out and stretching our legs there.  But we are
at a high water stage right now, so only a narrow band of small trees
remained above water.  We ended up twisting ourselves around the trees in
order to stretch.  The breeze was picking up a bit and it was nice to
take off our PFDs and cool off a bit.
   With our stretching done we climbed back into our boats for the final
leg of our trip.  We continued to follow the shoreline as it circled back
to our starting point.  We passed one of the few homes that you can see
on the south shore of the lake.  The house was perched on top of a hill
overlooking the lake.  The bay at the foot of the lake had a sandy bottom
and beautiful beach.  The water was clear enough that we could tell that
it was still sand more than six feet below us.  I have sympathy for
people who live next to such a lovely beach but cannot swim in the water.
   Coming up on the last stretch of lake before the put in we chatted
with a few people fishing from shore.  Nobody was catching anything but
that did not surprise me.  This lake gets heavily fished and any easily
accessible spot was fished out years ago.  The best fishing on the lake
is on the less accessible west side.  I will take Mark to see that side
of the lake in a week or two.
   The final half-mile of the trip was along the shore that parallels
route 121 in Auburn.  It is the populated and busy section.  With little
that we wanted to look at in this area we didn’t dawdle but set a
moderate pace straight for the take out.  The breeze had freshened to a
light wind blowing from the far side of the lake.  With a one mile fetch
the wind was creating four to six inch swells, the roughest water of the
five-mile trip.  The temperature was now near eighty and I was grateful
that I had stopped by The Country Canoeist last week to buy a PFD mounted
hydration system.  It is so much better to be able to drink while
paddling rather than putting down the paddle to pull a bottle out from
under a deck bungee.  Besides, between the camera, GPS, and map case I no
longer have room for a bottle within easy reach! 
   We got out of the kayaks almost exactly two hours after we launched. 
Our first paddle of the season proved to be all that we had hoped for and
left us looking forward to the rest of the season.  We will be out on
Massabesic as often as we can arrange it this year, with other trips and
other places already in planning.  Being as close to home as it is the
lake makes an excellent morning getaway.

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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