What got you into canoeing?

I enjoy these stories very much. As some of you know, my first desire to canoe camp happened at 8 hearing of a family member’s 10 day trip in Ontario. It took 40 years before I had my first experience in Quebec. I loved it. But to be honest… it was finding this forum, watching Robin’s cedar canoe rebuilds, the list of quality interactions on this site with so many willing supporters that got me to where I am with canoeing today. So happy New Year and a boat load of thanks to you all for guiding and sharing your love of this incredible lifestyle. Cheers

Kind of a hard question for me to answer definitively. My family had no connection with boats of any kind. When I was about ten, I went to a summer kid's camp at a lake in the Sierras outside of Grass Valley. There was a fleet of aluminum canoes there, which we all were going to get some exposure to. But before that could happen I came down with an excruciating earache that sent me home. The memory of the alluring sight of those canoes floating at the dock on the mountain lake never left me.

Several years later, a winter storm left some flooding in my town. There was a photo on the front page of the local paper of a teen paddling his home built kayak around the city park. I thought, "how cool is that"?

Not long after that, a friend who had built a skin on frame kayak with plans from BSA passed the plans on to me. With a little help from the neighbor who had a custom woodworking business in his home shop, I produced this thing we would now call a 11.5' recreational kayak. I had some great days in that on the local lake and river. And that inspired me to join a group for a day trip down the nearby Russian River in canoes. I liked it okay, but wasn't overly impressed compared to my kayak. None of us had any clue of what we were doing - or should be doing.

A couple years later, my kayak was stolen. Work life and friends led me to other things (mostly motorcycles). The only canoe I came into contact with during that time was the Colman....which didn't entice me.

Eventually, when my kids were young teens (later than I now wish) I started thinking about boats again. I decided I wanted something I could paddle with my wife or a kid. So that led me to buy the first canoe I found that wasn't a Coleman. That happened to be a 13' Navarro Legacy. That was a nice little canoe, but it didn't take me long to figure out I needed something bigger.

Oh, back up several decades to when I was 14. I was taking sailing lessons with a group of kids. Two Sunfish dinghies and eight kids meant we had wait time while we took turns in pairs. During my wait, one of the guys found some river trash, in the form of a 4'x4'x1' block of styrofoam and an 8' stick. Being normal boys, the two of us began a little competition to see who could stand on that floating block and pole it the farthest across the little inlet by the dock. We both did surprisingly well at it. This bit of history came to mind while in that little Navarro, and of course I had to break that rule and stand up and push off the shallow bottom with my too long paddle. That was an epiphany.

So what followed was what sailboat owners call a spell of "two-foot-itis", and I was soon in a 16' royalex canoe. That made poling really work well. Poling, to me, was an obvious route to getting to fishing holes on the local river without a shuttle - a huge issue for me because my unconventional schedule usually disallowed any shuttle help. Someone on Pnet mentioned Harry Rock's book, and putting that to practice hooked me hard. It's been all downhill from there.

Boy Scouts, mostly... spent 3x summers, 76-78, at Camp Sabattis on Low's Lake. We also canoed the Delaware River every year, though I only went once.

After that, I left it alone for 30 years, returning to the Adirondacks with my daughter around 2008... have been back every year since then, mostly to the St Regis Canoe Wilderness, but also Low's, Lila, Boreas, and the Floodwood/Follensby/Fish Creek area.

I've never loved backpacking; too much like work. But I can still paddle all day, and that's a far better life; a day or two paddling in to a base camp, fish, explore the area, climb the hills, see nature, and then pack it up and paddle out, without the daily drudgery of making miles and setting up/tearing down, with more time to relax.

My first experience with a canoe was at a lake where friends of my mother lived; I was probably 12. There was a kid who lived across the lake who I happened to bump into at their swimming area. He invited me to his house so I got permission from my Mom, walked around the lake and found his house. His family had a canoe and it was OK with his parents that we took it out. Eventually, he let me take it out solo. Of course, I sat in the stern, bow riding high and acting as a weather vane but I was hooked.

About that same time my family was spending a week each summer near Narrowsburg, NY at the Bob Lander's motel. Landers was the leading canoe livery at that time for the Delaware River. I got to be friends with Bob Jr. (our birthdays are only 10 days apart) and eventually helped out with his father's canoe business. Their restaurant would equip me with a huge boxed lunch and I would be transported with a load of canoes to some point on the river. It was my job to stay with the canoes until the rental group arrived to begin their trip. From there I'd be picked up and brought back to the main lodge. Because of this, I spent a lot of time exploring along the Delaware and hanging out with paddlers.

Eventually I went off to Scout camp and earned my canoeing merit badge. After 3 years as a camper, I graduated to working on the waterfront staff. My first summer I taught canoeing and spent most of my evenings patrolling the lake during open boating hours in a canoe. I'd spend my time watching the beaver along the banks and taking in the beauty of the camp and surrounding mountains.

On my 16th birthday I treated myself by purchasing a used canoe from the Landers' livery. It was 1969, Max Yasgur's farm was a couple of hills away getting ready to host Woodstock and my sister decided my new canoe needed a paint job. It went from a basic aluminum to a base of forest green paint, complete with colorful flowers. I was quite the site paddling down the Delaware.

As time went on I realized I didn't want a job that kept me inside so I pursued a position in the out-of-doors. Luckily for me, I spent 45 years working in the SUNY system as an outdoor educator. This allowed me to be out paddling locally on the Susquehanna River as well as in the Adirondacks and down in the Okefenokee NWR with spring break trips. I feel incredibly lucky to have had all these opportunities and know that if I never get to lift a paddle again, I've been blessed.

That's all for now. Sorry for taking up so much space and thank you for indulging me in this. Take care and until next time...be well.

snapper

Seeker said:

Boy Scouts, mostly... spent 3x summers, 76-78, at Camp Sabattis on Low's Lake.

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I camped at Sabattis in the 60s and canoed a little. Sad they had to close it.

As a transplanted Canadian, I suspect that I was either born with a pair of goalie skates on or with a paddle in my hands. I grew up in Cambridge Ontario playing hockey in winter and canoeing in summer. My parents eventually had two cottages, one on Duck lake near Loring and one later in central Ontario, near Port Severn. They moved north instead of south when they retired to Blind River. My earliest memory in a canoe is sitting in the middle with my brother trying to keep our toy boats afloat on the end of kids fishing rods on the Muskoka river. We canoed and camped frequently, and for some summers every day at the cottages. I got into tripping early, and have had some fine experiences on the Northern rivers of Ontario: French, Spanish, Ivanhoe, Massinaibi, etc. as well as leading groups from the colleges that I taught at. It felt good to introduce my friends to my, dare I say, "heritage'. Introducing my partner and our children to canoeing has provided some very cherished moments, and as age is catching up hearing all of your stories and recalling our family experiences has been very touching. As I ease into retirement, I hope to continue paddling, painting, and trecking in the Adirondacks and am hoping to revisit some of my old haunts in Ontario. Cheers to everyone...keep making memories!

Boy Scout camp. 1964.

My father...

He was an avid hiker and mountain climber. He climbed Mount Raineri in 1962, and led a lot of winter hikes in the White Mountains for the AMC. As he got older he hated crowds in the White Mountains in the summer, so he decided to take up paddling. He bought a Wenonah Spirit II in 1988 and a Mohawk Whitewater 16 in 1989. I did a lot of tandem paddling with him in the early 90’s. I recently found some pictures of us on the Androscoggin River in NH in 1995. That may have been our last tandem trip. By this time I had 3 small kids at home, so it was getting tough for me to get out. My father bought a solo whitewater boat – an XL-14 – that he paddled until arthritis ended his boating a few years later.

Fast forward 10 years and I am looking for things to do with my kids. The solo boat is gone, but the two tandems are still sitting in my father’s barn, so I dug them out for a family trip. My family didn’t have much interest in paddling, but I caught the bug. I kept his two tandems (still paddle them all the time), bought a Yellowstone Solo in 2005 (the only boat I have ever purchased new) and an old Dagger Impulse in 2006. I’ve been paddling ever since. Made some great friends, done some fun trips, and hope to stay healthy enough to do lots of paddling in the future.

Good way to meet girls. Hey, I was young. Turned out to be a good way to see animals. Alas, no girls.

I guess a serious response is in order. Canoeing was not big where I grew up. Some friends took me along on a day-trip to a river in eastern Indiana and I was hooked. Bought my own fiberglass canoe when I was 16 and headed to Florida with my girlfriend, tying (term used loosely) the canoe to the top of my VW Beetle with a doubled sleeping bag between the gunnels and roof. I didn’t know a trucker’s hitch, and passing trucks moved the boat so much I had to re-tie every 50 miles or so, especially in the rain. We camped in mosquito infested swamps and ran out of money coming home, camped on the beach in St. Augustine until my GF’s mom could wire $. That lovely lady (the mom) turned 100 this month. I still visit her in the nursing home. We share chuckles about that trip. The daughter (gf) is still my friend after 50+ years, but is not a big outdoorswoman. I think I ruined her on canoe camping.

I returned a couple years later to solo those same Everglades waters and it was great, just me and my border collie, Suki. It was magical. By that time, the girl and I parted ways but I had discovered foam blocks.

Scot said:

As a transplanted Canadian, I suspect that I was either born with a pair of goalie skates on or with a paddle in my hands. I grew up in Cambridge Ontario playing hockey in winter and canoeing in summer. My parents eventually had two cottages, one on Duck lake near Loring and one later in central Ontario, near Port Severn. They moved north instead of south when they retired to Blind River. My earliest memory in a canoe is sitting in the middle with my brother trying to keep our toy boats afloat on the end of kids fishing rods on the Muskoka river. We canoed and camped frequently, and for some summers every day at the cottages. I got into tripping early, and have had some fine experiences on the Northern rivers of Ontario: French, Spanish, Ivanhoe, Massinaibi, etc. as well as leading groups from the colleges that I taught at. It felt good to introduce my friends to my, dare I say, "heritage'. Introducing my partner and our children to canoeing has provided some very cherished moments, and as age is catching up hearing all of your stories and recalling our family experiences has been very touching. As I ease into retirement, I hope to continue paddling, painting, and trecking in the Adirondacks and am hoping to revisit some of my old haunts in Ontario. Cheers to everyone...keep making memories!

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Small world! while being born in oakville, I spent a lot of time in Galt, I had family on Pine street, park Avenue, and Water street across from Churchill park, My Uncle had a kennel near Soper's Mill (my first summer job) and paddled both the Grand and Conestoga rivers. you couldn't ask for a better place to learn to paddle

My father introduced me to my first canoe trip, down the infamous Hassayampa River. The Hassayampa, a burly stream with its share of trout, rises in northern China, meanders through an Indigenous reserve in Northern Ontario, and empties finally into Elliot Lake, not a mile from where I lived in Nova Scotia.

Recently while going through my father’s old diary, I found a passage where he described why he was taking me on the trip…..

The trip would be good for him, I reasoned. He was a bit of a sissy—crying when his mother refused to make waffles for his breakfast, a master of the repressed snivel, relying on a combination of charm and hurt feelings to wheedle things out of his elders. He prefers not to fight, though like the proverbial rat, he will when cornered. Still, it is difficult to find the right corner for him. If naiveté is an open sore and cynicism a scab, the Hassayampa should put a few scars on him.

Needless to say, the four month canoe trip left an indelible scar on my soul, and has me coming back for more punishment, on a regular basis, like a junky who never quite gets clean.

Seeker said:

Boy Scouts, mostly... spent 3x summers, 76-78, at Camp Sabattis on Low's Lake. We also canoed the Delaware River every year, though I only went once.

After that, I left it alone for 30 years, returning to the Adirondacks with my daughter around 2008... have been back every year since then, mostly to the St Regis Canoe Wilderness, but also Low's, Lila, Boreas, and the Floodwood/Follensby/Fish Creek area.

I've never loved backpacking; too much like work. But I can still paddle all day, and that's a far better life; a day or two paddling in to a base camp, fish, explore the area, climb the hills, see nature, and then pack it up and paddle out, without the daily drudgery of making miles and setting up/tearing down, with more time to relax.

Click to expand...

Nice to see a fellow Maryland canoe person! I recently moved to Howard County from Harford, and grew up paddling the Gunpowder down near Joppatowne. That being said, sounds like your early formative years overlapped with mine a bit - my grandparents had a "camp" near Old Forge and I grew up paddling in that area basically from the time I could walk (or before) - although I doubt I did much to actually propel the canoe at that age!

In any case, I am named after Camp Russell, and fondly remember formative years canoeing in the Adirondacks - great to see other Marylanders with similar influences!