Finding beauty and history along an ancient canoe trail
Sunday, October 2, 2005
By VICTOR BLOCK,
Dipping my paddle into the clear lake water, I glance toward the shoreline and try to peer into the dense forest behind. Suddenly, I think I see movement. Is that something - or someone - peering out at us from behind the trunk of a pine tree?
Gazing more intently, I realize it's only leaves rustling in the gentle breeze that played a trick on my eyes. But imagining we're being watched, as we paddle along, by people who followed that same canoe trail thousands of years ago happened several times over the next two days.
With two friends, I was following a section of the Northern Forest Canoe Trail that winds through the Rangeley Lakes region. It's part of a 740-mile route, once paddled by American Indians and later by early European explorers, that runs through New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine and Quebec.
The water trail passes through some of the most scenic paddling country in the Northeast. It follows lakes, rivers and streams, runs past deep forests and rolling farmlands, and leads by rocky shorelines and historic towns. Along the way, it serves as a living memory of a colorful chapter of the history of our continent.
The trail recalls the time when lakes and rivers were the major travel routes, beginning with Paleo-Indians who arrived in the region about 11,000 years ago. The people who settled along the lakes and rivers in the Rangeley area, attracted by an abundance of fish, caribou, moose and other wildlife, eventually became known as the Coo-ash-aukes tribe of the Wabanaki.
A series of 13 maps, several of which have been completed, will describe the entire trail route and the areas through which it traverses.
The Rangeley Lakes region section of the route is distinctive in part because of the rich archaeological treasures that have been uncovered there.
Over 20 years ago, a game warden named Charles Adkins, accompanied by an archaeologist, was investigating the theory that Paleo-Indian tribes had established encampments in the Rangeley Lakes area. Recalling the memorable moment during a recent conversation, the affable retired warden said a flash of bright red that he spotted among the stones on a beach turned out to be a jasper quartz knife.
As he leaned down to pick it up, he realized that it was surrounded by a treasure trove of other manmade artifacts.
His companion identified some of the chisel-like implements as unique to Paleo-Indian tools. Subsequent investigation revealed a network of small archaeological sites nearby, a number of which proved to be Paleo-Indian in age.
It was this history that occupied my mind as I paddled through waters that were traversed thousands of years ago by American Indians. The longest stretch of the Northern Forest Canoe Trail, 347 miles, runs through Maine and includes what is described as some of the most beautiful scenery along the route.
It didn't take many strokes of the paddle before my travel companions and I agreed with that description. We passed gentle mountains covered by pine forests in as many shades of green as the largest box of Crayolas.
Most of the time, the only sounds were the repeated splash of our paddles, the whisper of a gentle breeze and our occasional exclamations about the beauty of the surroundings.
The most prevalent forms of wildlife we encountered along the way were loons, which during the day dove into the sparkling water as we approached and at night serenaded us with a symphony of their eerie calls.
We also watched a hawk tracing lazy circles in the sky above, chuckled as a blue heron waited until we were almost upon it before spreading its wide wings and gracefully flying away, and excitedly joined in pointing at a bald eagle that soared overhead.
Our overnight campsite was a point of land jutting into the lake like a crooked finger, adjacent to a babbling brook. Dan and JoAnne identified the sources of bird calls that greeted us as crows and songbirds. My imagination, still colored by the history of the area I had learned, conjured up the voices of American Indians mimicking birds as they sent the signal that intruders had landed there.
I also wondered as a few scraps of paper that we tossed into an apparently cold fireplace activated a tiny wisp of smoke, then burst into flames. I didn't disagree as Dan explained that the previous campers no doubt left a few simmering embers when they departed. However, I glanced into the woods once again to make sure the fire was not yet another sign of Indian spirits from centuries past.
My sense of excitement at delving deeply into history reached its peak during a lunch stop on a tiny island. JoAnne and I found sharp, blade-shaped stones that we hoped might prove to be implements once used by Paleo-Indians who had walked on that same pebbly beach thousands of years before.
Returning from our trip, I quickly telephoned Charles Adkins and asked if I could come right over to have him identify our finds. His immediate identification of our would-be artifacts as nothing more than common stones, while disappointing, did nothing to diminish the pleasure and awe we derived from paddling in the path taken by American Indians in prehistoric times.
Victor Block is a freelance writer who lives in Washington, D.C., and spends summers in Rangeley.
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Last updated on October 07, 2005