Day 7 26.4 miles to Port Henry NY

July 28, 2020

Day 7 26.4 miles to Port Henry NY

When you ask if you can camp out in a fellah's patch of grass, some guys say yes. Then, some guys ask if you'd like a drink, or a bucket of ice. Some guys offer the patio of their temporarily closed restaurant as a dry place to store your gear from the rain.Some guys want you to know it's OK to play mini golf next to your tent. And some guys, guys like Copey Houghton, the proprietor of the incredibly charming Old Boathouse Inn in Essex, show up in the morning and leave a pot of tea and a plate of lightly garlicked scrambled eggs with fresh melon and grapes on the picnic table next to your tent.

Some guys, but not all guys .... but definitely Copey Houghton. In a world and at a time when 'no' is both easy and understandable, guys like Copey shine. Copey, I'll be back with a boatload when the Old Boathouse reopens ... many thanks for your wonderful hospitality and spirit.

I started slowly today. Yes, it was partly the eggs, and a solid 12 hours of non CPAP log-splitting, but this section of Champlain, from Essex to Port Henry, rewards slow rowing and close looking. High, rocky cliffs, natural coves formed from split rocks, incredible bird life (eagles, huge formations of wave-hugging cormorants, and herons taller than Rosie,) and camps ranging from barely standing to standing bare in their opulence ... this is a very wonderful stretch of water. The south wind built up by 11 and stayed up all day, but one doesn't mind rowing on a treadmill when the scenery is so enthralling.

Cheri is the spirited and gracious proprietor of the Port Henry campsite, where I have just staked my claim on a plot near the beach. She's let me use her fridge for a block of ice I'll need at 5:45 when I leave (the fridge is on the outside wall of her 'office,') just another act of kindness by a person who sees the joy and meaning in seeking and taking the high road.

My gunkholing today included several swims to beat the oppressive heat. I selected spots where the water was clear over a submerged shelf and learned that the zebra mussels that literally encapsulate these rocks provide great footing if you are wearing Crocs, and will cut you to ribbons if you're barefoot. Were these nasties to truly explode on Lake George, we'd never be barefoot by the lakeside again ... to say nothing of what they must be doing to an ecological balance. They are ubiquitous!

A big day tomorrow - down to Ticonderoga, up La Chute to the park, get the boat and my gear on the lil wheels I've been lugging with me, a madcap push through downtown Ti, then a full wash-down at the boat ramp to make sure I don't unwittingly bring any invasives with me. Then, on to the Mother Bunch for my last in-transit night before getting to the Village on Thursday.

Will I ever see a North wind again?

Will Copey show up again tomorrow with breakfast?

Will I have the energy to push my boat and gear uphill to the Lake George Basin?

Do fish get thirsty?

Question, questions.

Peace, love, happiness ... and good health!

And to Charlie, Alec, Emily, Dave, Craig, Copey, and Cheri ... thank you for making a sojourner's life a little bit easier, and a lot more fun -

xxxooo