Adirondack Canoe Classic Part 3: The Final Day

Day three of the ACC began with a warning.

"Mandatory Life-Jackets"

This was announced by way of a megaphone, then repeated in the whispers of the competitors who milled about in the staging area in Fish Creek Campground. Until this point life-vests did not have to be worn, just easily accessible in the event of a capsize. Our friends who were veterans of the race told us that this certainly not normal. It had happened before in prior runnings of the race when the wind had whipped the waterways into a churning, dangerous, mess. The part of Fish Creek Pond that we were launching from looked relatively calm, but racers around us could be overheard muttering things like "Just wait until we hit Upper Saranac. I bet its Hell." They were right.



After starting out in a mass group, we made our way out of the pond and under the Rt. 30 bridge. From there we made our way through a short channel and into a bay off of Upper Saranac. The first sign of the nastiness that loomed ahead came when we saw a few solo canoes and kayaks heading at us the wrong way. The next ominous sign was when we turned the corner and my dad's sunglasses flew off and into the water. Then we saw what was coming.

The scene in front of me conjured images from a war film where black clouds and devastation dominate a scene. Dark storm clouds clashed with the light, overcast grey of the sky and a brutal wind whipped at anything that was loose on the boat. The waves on Upper were massive for a lake like that. I would guess they reached 3 or 4 feet in height. We charged into them and just tried holding on while watching other racers capsize across the lake. For the so called "easiest day" of the race, we had our energy sucked from us during this section of the course faster any other part other than maybe Brown's Tract on day 1. The rain began just as we reached the first carry; called the Bartlett Carry.



During this carry we tried to eat, recharge, go to the bathroom, etc. Yet suddenly we found ourselves feeling a surreal sense of awareness of what we were doing and the immensity of our undertaking when we heard bagpipe music floating through the trees. On man in full regalia stood on the side of the carry and gave us a musical score to accompany our suffering. It was one of the more beautiful moments of the weekend.

From there we moved across Middle Saranac lake and into the Saranac River, then into lower and back into the Saranac river. This section of the course was very beautiful and features two short carries around old locks. The only bad part of this section was the rain and when I fell in the river while putting in after the second lock. Wet and holding a soggy PBJ in my lap, we continued on. We were drained and tired, but we knew that we only had Oseetah Lake, then Lake Flower to go until the finish.

Lake Flower was an amazing sight. Old camps and beautiful islands were everywhere as we snaked through buoys in place to avert boaters from rocky areas. We finally saw the finish in the distance and decided to finish strong. We sprinted with a boat that had come up behind us across the finish line and to the cheers of encouragement from the spectators who lined the beach. My mother greeted us with two beers and two big hugs. We had done it. After a total of around 21 hours we had finished. Even though we were sore and wet, we loved every second of the experience.

Adirondack Canoe Classic Part 2

Day two of the race was supposed to be "easier." I place that word in quotes because this, allegedly, easier second day was still incredibly difficult. After clocking in at around 8 hours and 30 minutes on day one, we hoped to be at least a half hour faster on the second day. The distance on the day was 30 miles, but with only one carry we knew that if we got into a rhythm we could improve. Day two did provide us with some beautiful views and some of the most fun sections of the race by far. The beautiful, winding Raquette River and the open water of Long Lake made this day go by much quicker.



Day two began at "Bissell's" on the south end of Long Lake. We launched from a beach and headed north up the lake. This section was unique because of the sheer distance that we had stretched out in front of us. Long Lake certainly lived up to it's name, it was the body of water that we spent the most time on during the entire race. We paddled in a pack under the Long Lake bridge to crowds of cheering family and pit crew members who snapped photos and yelled words of encouragement.



We stayed on long lake for a around 3 1/2 hours until we reached the mouth of the Raquette River. This long and constant section of lake also presented us with one of the challenges that racers have to face: how to go to the bathroom in the boat. Now it may sound gross but my friend who was a veteran of the 90 said that some people pee in the boat. My dad and I had decided ahead of time that we were in this to have fun so we could wait until we reached a section where we could get out onto dry land to go. However, this plan of action proved impossible when we were in the open water and surrounded by private camps. Eventually after some uncomfortable shifting on my seat, I informed my dad of the urgency of the situation. He threw me an empty Poland Springs jug with the top cut off that we were using as a bailing bucket and said "you're welcome." I immediately changed my mind and decided to hold it. Anyone who has ever struggled to pee at one of those troughs at a sporting event will relate to my reluctance in the face of relieving myself into a water bottle, in the middle of a lake, amidst hundreds of other watercraft. eventually we stopped and got out which also allowed us to shake out our sleeping legs.

From here we paddled up the Raquette a few miles until we reached the Raquette Falls carry. Half of a canoe hung from a post and warned against trying to run the falls. After a slow moving, single file carry through the woods, we reached the base of the falls and continued on. The rest of the day was spent winding through the clear, gorgeous waters of the Raquette. It's no wonder that Ralph Waldo Emerson and James Russell Lowell camped in the area to escape from society.



The day ended with us sprinting against another boat to the finish line at a public boat launch called "The Crusher." We were greeted with beers, chocolate milk, and pizza by our pit crew and friends who had finished before us. Day 2 was over after 7 hours and 57 seconds and we were feeling much better than the day before.