Adirondack paradise

Yesterday was like a dream: water, sky, sun, and paddles. Since May, Friend #32 and I had planned to kayak for a full day in the Adirondacks. She is my kayak-partner--and she is moving to Texas.
This trip was our last hurrah.

--until next time, that is.

The early morning on Barnum Pond set the stage for a glorious day of exploration.


That's Friend #32 taking in the view while balancing her state-of-the-art paddle across her lap.
I am very envious of that paddle, by the way.

I need that paddle. It almost wrecked my morning to think of how much I wanted that paddle.
But moving right along....


The pearly-gray clouds soon gave way to a sparkle of sun that lit the brush along the rim of the water from within. Its beauty helped me forget about that way-cool paddle.

Even the edges of the swamp quivered with color.


I am always captivated by what manages to grow on the water. A fallen tree becomes a nurturer for bright plants and moss. This, I learned later in the day, is rightly named a "nurse-maid".


After Barnum Pond, we put in at Cascade Lake. Here is a dramatic view of this long, narrow slice of deep water. The cloud-cover makes it look foreboding, but once we got underway, the clouds departed and the water looked quite friendly.

I looked for the Loch Ness, but didn't find him. I had my camera ready, just in case.


At the end of the "trail", we turned around and hit gale-force winds straight on. Really. At times we were buffeted so hard that despite digging in like maniacs, we were going backwards. It didn't help much that I was laughing hysterically.

While we were huffing and puffing, some annoyingly buff guy glided by us in his state-of-the-art kayak. He smiled at us. Or maybe smirked, I couldn't tell.

Everyone has state-of-the-art stuff except for me.

After thoroughly but slowly conquering Cascade Lake, we strolled through the town of Saranac Lake, had lunch, and did a little window-shopping. Inspired by the scenery, we decided to find one more place to paddle on our way home.


This pond beckoned us. (We gladly responded. Wouldn't you?)
We were told by a fisherman that this little pond connected to another little pond, which eventually connected to Osgood Lake. Sounded good to us!


We loved the narrow canals that led us from jewel to jewel! A wooden foot-bridge spanned the passageway, reminding us that we were not Henry Hudson and Samuel de Champlain.

Or Native Americans.
(Although Friend #32 has some connections in that department.)

She nicely offered to trade paddles with me for a stretch. I nicely offered to trade back with her after a polite while. She had the nerve to call my paddle "a lunker". A lunker.

Other than that, she's a really nice friend.

We were completely done in by all this exercise, I'll tell you, but also completely exhilarated.

We packed up for the drive home. While Friend #32 organized her stuff and checked her e-mail, phone messages, and GPS in the air-conditioned truck, I plundered a patch of wild blueberry bushes. To each his own, I always say.

On the trip home, we talked about our perfect day. Except for a few bug-bites, I wouldn't have changed a thing about it. I made sure I expressed my appreciation to Friend #32 for helping it happen.

She is one of my favorite travel-buddies and I am going to miss her ready companionship.