Oct. 5, 1912 
FOREST AND STREAM 
443 
AN OVERLAND CANOE TRIP. 
Continued from page 435. 
time it came close to us, scrambling on top of 
a canoe we had laid on the bank, and then being- 
right over the foot of my sleeping bag (we were 
not using the tent) in the dim light, I could 
just make out a porcupine, and not wishing to 
have my blankets made into a pin cushion, I 
spoke gently to it, causing it to leave in a hurry, 
much to George’s annoyance, as he was anxious 
to stab it with his hunting knife. 
The rest of the night passed quietly, though 
we were somewhat troubled by a small gnat that 
was a wonder for its size. At daybreak I was 
awakened by the sound of some animal splash¬ 
ing in the water, and concluded it was a deer, 
but it had gone before we saw it. We made 
an early start that morning, as indications were 
that the trip would take longer than we antici¬ 
pated. The open water we were camped near 
did not extend very far, and we soon struck 
another lot of boulders, which we carried over 
to a short stretch of water. This we kept up 
all morning, some of the carries being three- 
quarters of a mile in length. It was really a 
repetition of the previous afternoon’s work with 
the slight variation of pushing over sand shal¬ 
lows in the open water stretches. About noon 
we reached the Cedar River, amid great rejoic¬ 
ings, as the water was deep and the river much 
larger than the rock. Our happiness was short 
lived, however, as a mile paddle brought us to 
a lumber jam which extended as far as we 
could see, something which had never entered 
into our calculations. We found an old lumber 
trail on the right bank and started to carry 
around it, hoping with all our hearts it was not 
very long. After a short mile this trail ended 
in nothing, and as the woods were thick, we 
could go no further, so George crossed the river 
on the logs and found an old lumber road on 
the left bank. 
We had lunch and talked it over, deciding 
the only thing to do was to carry over the logs, 
a hard thing if one has had no previous experi¬ 
ence. We divided the packs into four and man¬ 
aged to get them over, though Harry got caught 
between two logs and was rescued by George. 
Then came the canoes; they were even harder, 
but we put two men to each one and lifted 
and dragged them across in some way. The 
old tote road was fairly good going, and after 
about a mile and a half of it we struck open 
water once more. It commenced to rain then, 
and as a very short paddle brought us to some 
rapids too low to run, we began to say pleas¬ 
ant things about that clerk in the Blue Moun¬ 
tain who had told us it was an easy trip. By 
dint of lifting and pulling we got through the 
rapids, leaving plenty of paint on them as a 
souvenir, but right below •We came to a fall 
jammed full of logs. Once more we landed and 
after some search found a trail on the left bank. 
It was a very poor one and the going was bad. 
Everybody fell and we were all pretty tired; 
then after about three-quarters of a mile we 
saw a deserted lumber shack across the river, 
and as it was raining and getting late, we con¬ 
cluded that we would spend the night there. 
Once more we divided the packs into four, 
and leaving the canoes on that side started 
across, jumping from rock to rock. Our feet 
were wet through and the rocks slippery, and 
we had barely started when Harry fell in but 
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managed to keep his pack dry. A minute later 
Charley slipped and went in with his own and 
my blankets and extra clothes, which he dropped 
in the river. We got them out promptly, how¬ 
ever, and they did not get very wet. The shack 
was the dirtiest place I ever saw, but as it was 
that or the wet woods, we had to make the best 
of it. Everybody was wet, tired and hungry, 
and we had very little to eat, erbswurst and rice 
being the menu for supper. Our bread, too, had 
entirely given out, and we had no flour. 
It was still raining in the morning, but rain 
or shine we had to go ahead or starve. On 
crossing the river to where we had left the 
canoes, Harry fell in again, but all hands were 
getting used to it. We carried for about one 
mile, found a little open water and then another 
fall full of logs of course. Found a trail on 
the right bank which ended after half a mile. 
I went exploring this time and discovered a 
very bad trail on the other bank which went 
over a ridge, and then down to the Hudson 
River. From the top of the ridge I could see 
open water, and once again I thought we might 
have an easier time, but on reaching the bank I 
found the open water extended only a quarter 
of a mile, and then as far as the eye could see 
it was dry boulders. 
Pretty well discouraged, I returned and 
found the rest of the outfit sitting on a rock 
smoking. I imparted the cheerful news, but 
as there was nothing else to do, we started once 
more. This was the worst carry of any, and 
we had an awful time making it. Charley fell 
with a canoe and could not get his head from 
between the paddles. How he did not break his 
neck no one knows, as the boat turned over 
and he had to practically stand on his head. 
George caught his leg between two logs and 
fell on his face with a canoe on top of him, 
while I tripped on a root and made a soft 
cushion for the pack. Everything has to end, 
so at last we came to the Hudson and after a 
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