Canoeing on the Retreat Meadows

Where the West River and the Meadows join

A bit of explanation may be appreciated since one doesn't usually canoe on meadows.  But these are water-meadows.  And non-seasonal at that.  What was once prime farmland flooded when a certain dam was completed in 1909.  Now, winter, those same lake-like "meadows" are covered with ice-fishing shacks.  Summer, they host kayaks and canoes.  They are called the Retreat Meadows because they are adjacent to the Brattleboro Retreat, a hospital complex for mental health and addictions.

What happens here geographically is that two rivers meet--the great Connecticut, the boundary (here) between Vermont and New Hampshire, and the lesser but exciting West River that can thunder down the slopes and produce such disasters as Hurricane Irene's destruction when something like 13 Vermont towns/villages were isolated from any traffic in or out (other than helicopter) because our lovely "babbling" rivers, of which this was one, brought on havoc!  Though adjacent to the Connecticut, the meadows are more a part of the West River.

What the West River looks like when said to be "babbling."

Okay ... so some weeks ago, seeing summer flee, as it is prone to do, having celebrated the Fourth of July, knowing that Labor Day was imminent, I told a certain member of the family that before summer was over, I wanted us to go canoeing ... and especially since it had been several years since we had last been.

So we picked yesterday to go.  Good temperatures--mid-70s.  A bit of cloud cover so we wouldn't fry out on the water.  A Sunday when she and her little ones weren't otherwise engaged.  We met up at the canoe rental spot, paid our $25 for one hour, and embarked.  It turned out to be the 12- and 8-year olds' first canoe trip. So she gave them an on-the-spot tutorial in rowing since both wanted to be engaged in this fun family activity.

It was a perfect day--paddling away, enjoying ourselves, catching glimpses of Canada geese, ducks, an egret (or was it a heron?), curly water-weeds, and other Sunday folks out on the meadows with the sense that the water was so shallow, the draft of the canoe so slight, that one could step out and not be submerged.

Fishing

What The Meadows will look like in two months