Kroka Vermont Semester 2016: Blog #8: White Water Paddling & Rowing

River People

We are river people. We live and breathe and speak the river. Some days are spent in the snow and rain, our clothes soaked through and our minds in disbelief that they will ever dry. But the sun always comes and dries our clothes and skin, and we continue on.

We have spent the past eight days canoeing down the Clyde River, into Lake Memphremagog, over the border into Canada, down the Missisquoi River, and into Lake Champlain. Overall we covered 115 miles- our longest day being 23 miles and our shortest 10.

We learned a variety of different things on this leg of expedition, primarily: how to white water canoe. It was quite the adventure, and we definitely had some fateful flips going down the rapids. But the sun was out, and our clothes would soon dry and the next day would be filled with more rapids and flipping.

Though our days were long, we always found joy in what we were doing. The most popular canoe game was to put on our “battle helmets” (bailers, aka plastic milk jugs that are cut open to make bailers) and try to grab the canoe painter lines and tie each other to a tree along the way or drag one another off course.

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We had such a lovely time on the river. There was so much to learn and take in, especially with the blooming of spring. I know I personally ended this first spring leg dreaming of more nights on the river.

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Freedom

Freedom is an incredibly special thing. It is rare and coveted, and I have been lucky enough to know what it is to be free for my entire life. Besides the occasional time-out or strongly enforced bedtime as a young child, I have no sense of what it is to lack freedom on a personal level. In some ways, freedom is a state of mind. If you let yourself become weighed down by the small things, let yourself succumb to the pressure around you, you can never be free.

There are so many people in the world who, from a western perspective, have no freedom at all. Sometimes this is true but we must also remember that freedom is an opinion and also a very personal thing. I think as long as your primal needs are met, and you truly believe it yourself, you can be free.

~Anonymous student

The transition from the river to the lake was a rainy one. After having our first rowing lesson, we rowed all but a mile to our camp still on the Missisquoi River. Our first full day of rowing was about 22 miles. Though overcast in the morning, the sun came out to welcome us at long last. On the third day we had a live-over for the first time in 10 days. We didn’t even realize how long we had been moving until we stopped and just breathed. We had a wonderful day of watercolor and exploration of Valcour Island. There is so much history that takes place on this great lake. The Battle of Valcour took place at the Island, a fantastic battle of the British and the Americans in which the Americans lost after barley escaping the grasp of the British.

From the perspective of an American solder-

Battle of Valcour Island October 11, 1776

Here we are, deep in the night, merely waiting for these rats to come out in the daylight. I’m here on watch, missing precious sleep for what? Their men are wounded, dead or weak. They are children, pitiful and inexperienced. In all honesty, they have no hope. I almost feel bad for their inferiority. All their lanterns are out and there is no sound to be heard. The poor guys are surely getting a good night's sleep before facing their inevitable demise.

Its been an hour of my watch now, and I’m getting mighty tired. The long day's battle is surely weighing on my sanity. I hear whispers that must just be the wind and soft splashes nearby which are many geese in the reeds. As I relieve myself over the gun whale, I could swear I see the moon glint off something in the water not far away. While my tired brain would have me thinking otherwise, it must be the shine of a bloated dead fish, floating past in the night, my watch is almost up and I hate to watch the poor man on next watch to sit for hours, driven half mad by the soft noises of this strange place.
~Anonymous Student

On our travels we were lucky enough to visit the Rock Point School and the farmers market near Burlington, VT. We had not seen that many people at once in a long time. We split into groups to get some food and learn the farmers' stories. After a delicious lunch of bread, cheese, lettuce, carrots and milk we headed to the school. There we met and ate dinner with the Rock Point students. We spent the evening doing various activities such as swimming in the cold lake, playing soccer, and watching Princess Bride--all very exiting. The next morning we said our farewells and headed into the wild wind. The biggest and tallest wave we encountered was 6 feet, but for the most part the waves were 3-5 ft. We spent much of the morning paddling seven miles to Shelburne Farms where we collapsed on the grass and gobbled down lunch. We had our next live-over there and spent the morning doing service work pulling garlic mustard. We spent the last bit of the day doing academics and enjoying the sunny, beautiful land.

From there we continued our way south where we visited the Maritime Museum. The museum has many rowboats built by students our age. The very boats we rowed with on the Lake were built by these students and we were fortunate to spend the afternoon eating lunch with them and visiting the museum. Afterwards we headed across the lake to Barton Rock where we began our personal solos. Our solos began at night continued into the next day and night. The next morning we reconnected back together to continue our journey home.

A few days before reaching Whitehall we visited Fort Ticonderoga, a fort during the Revolutionary War that was taken from the British by Ethan Allan and the Green Mountain boys. We spent a few hours exploring the beautiful exhibits and getting an idea of what life was like during that time.

We had such a lovely couple of weeks on this wondrous lake. There is so much history to be found and exploration to be had. Two weeks is hardly enough time but we made the best of it, experiencing the sun and the rain. We now say farewell to the lake and our lake guide, Laurel Iselin, and prepare for our final leg of our expedition, biking!