August 6,

Considering what I thought was slow progress up the Champlain Canal because of the heat and its effect on my energy level, I was amazed to realize that I was on my last leg of the canal portion of our trip. We were going to reach Whitehall’s Lock 12 opening into the Southern reaches of Lake Champlain in six days. On the map it looked like a longer trip. But we were averaging over 12 miles a day and for the first week out that was about right. I was remembering my last few days in Florida in January where 20-25 mile days were done in 60 to 70 degree weather.  With temperatures over 90 in blazing sun water was pouring out of me as fast as I was guzzling Gatorade. My intake of such liquids has been 5-6 quarts in the boat and another gallon on shore!

The trip from the floating dock in Fort Anne up the long straight stretches of dug canal to Whitehall was interrupted only once at Lock 11. I had visited this lock a few months ago when driving by to scout out how it would be to row through the locks. The lockmaster had been very friendly and shown much interest in what we were going to do. But the fellow on duty was not the same one I had met. I had looked forward to seeing the other one again but he will never know we passed.

We arrived in Whitehall passing the recently built visitor center and Navy Museum. Whitehall boasts being the birthplace of the US Navy. But there is nothing else new in Whitehall. Many of the buildings are about to collapse and are unoccupied. There are very few restaurants and shops. We had discovered the day before we rowed in the ice cream at Stewart’s, a convenience store and filling station. This seemed to be the most, if not the only, active business in town.

As Lock 12 opened to let us into Lake Champlain I heard a familiar voice call “Gunnar” several times. We noticed two motorcycles parked a little beyond the ramp at Finch and Chubb’s and the Lock 12 marina. Steve Hagerty and a friend had taken a ride up from Albany and had stop to check on us!  After taking the boat out Steve’s friend loaned his helmet to Heather and Steve took her down to Fort Anne to get our car. This she reported was the scariest ride of her life but she did get back safely.  The motorcyclists left us and we went to search for a camping spot.

A hundred miles of dirt roads or so later we ended up at a small state campground at Half Moon lake in VT. The campground was nice but the neighboring campers were obnoxious, loud and crude. I had to wonder why they came to camp out. Two had children. The fathers screamed obscenities at them and, of course, at the rest of the world seemingly in a vent of anger and unhappiness. We commented that both they and there kids would have been better off and happier back home with a beer in their hands in front of their TVs!  Why take your family camping and not use the opportunity to show them love and enjoy them? My campground experiences have never been satisfactory!