than a foldboater, but an unfettered tourist I prefer to be. When 

 I float through the town of Farmington in Connecticut on the 

 little river of the same name, I like to be able to moor at either 

 bank and gaze for as long as I like at the old homes there. It's 

 wonderful to paddle through a museum. 



I feel the same about the lower stretches of the Hudson. The 

 cliffs above this noble river are magnificent, and the great estates 

 on its headlands are wondrous to behold. I am therefore grateful 

 that the Hudson is wide and slow. I like the Potomac for the 

 same reason, although sections of it have a bit more dash than 

 the others. The Susquehanna, the Shenandoah, and the Dela- 

 ware fit into the placid pattern. In all these, the action is suited 

 to the scene. You have old hills, old towns, places on which men 

 have gazed long and thoughtfully, places filled with what to me 

 is a prime requisite for scenery: human association. 



The foldboat does not fit into my predilections merely by 

 accident. I like to be able to carry my transportation in two light 

 bags, assemble it with ease on any shore, and take it apart 

 speedily. Moreover, I can do something that no partisan of the 

 bronco-busting western rivers can do. I can paddle ten miles 

 upstream before I float back to where the car is, or I can float 

 down first and paddle back, which eliminates the car shuttle 

 that is a necessary part of western foldboating. 



To me, a foldboat is a nearly perfect vehicle for seeing the 

 East. That region, particularly New England, calls for walking, 

 slow motoring, or foldboating or some combination of the 

 three. When I set my little cockleshell down in any languid 

 eastern water, I know I am going to indulge all the sentimental 

 urges of the inner man. Of course I miss the views from the 

 modest hills of the East, but I have found that I'd as soon look 

 up at my scenery as down. 



I don't wish to establish a rule on foldboating. I merely state 

 a preference. This talented craft is a natural for cocky streams, 

 for vigor and the plunge. I can see it as a chip in a waterfall, but 

 I prefer to see it imbedded in easy-going water that is, if I'm 

 in it. Besides, I often take a copy of Thoreau along with me and 

 I like to keep the pages dry. 



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