Maybe this was another over-ambitious canoe trip, like the one that I had undertaken with the same naturalist friend in late June. At mid-seventies and late sixties perhaps we two women should have been following a strong young person pulling our boats, or more sensibly, home walking the dog. But modern, light-weight canoes and carriers tempted us to test our limits. We have never been serious sports enthusiasts, I myself never using anything more than boots and sticks of one kind or another for exercise, so our limits were set fairly low.
The plan was to meet at Bonnie’s house at 8:30, but neither of us could sleep in the early morning, from excitement – or fear? So we left her house an hour early in her husband’s truck, luckily, as much of the 3.2 mile road to the parking area for the Boreas Ponds was rough. » Continue Reading.
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