We are staying in the North Country longer this year.  It is late September  and we have had two heavy frosts.  The fall foliage is at its peak now.  Here is a view of the frozen marsh that lies just in front of our camp.

View of the frozen marsh.

Here are two more views of the marsh in its fall clothing.  The marsh always expresses the time of year.  In the Spring it is pea green with the newness of life.  As summer wears on it begins to take a golden hue, then to a deep red in parts as Autumn approaches.

Early light on the late September marsh.

Here is a view of the marsh out our window.

View of the marsh from our window.

The drive from Long Lake to Tupper Lake is spectacular.  Here are some photos taken from the shore of Tupper Lake.

Fall foliage-Tupper Lake
Tupper Lake again.

Its time for one last guideboat row.  The Frances C. is 23 years old this summer.  She still looks great, not showing much wear and tear.  Since she’s made of Atlantic white cedar she will never rot so she will way out live me.

I have the lake all to myself now (except for a few canoe-campers heading north).  The character of the lake has changed since summer.  Once buoyant and sparkly she can display a brooding mood.

Long Lake broods.

Another view out the stern shows how the lake surface can take on a “hard, even metallic” look.

View out the guideboat stern.

I spot three boaters coming north.  They are quite aways away, down by Moose island when they first come into view.  There are two kayaks and a two man canoe.  As they draw near I hail one of them “Where are you headed”,  I ask. “Tupper Lake.  Are there campsites nearby? ”   “There are a few on the east side of the lake about 3 to 4 miles ahead.  But the best sites are at north end at Turtle Beach.”, I reply.  “Do you think we can make it there this afternoon?”  “Well, you have a gentle following breeze and about 4 hours of daylight left”.  They have a impromptu discussion and resume paddling.

Canoeists heading north on Long Lake on a beautiful fall afternoon.

With some sadness I return back to our dock, haul Frances out of the lake and contemplate a return next Spring.



Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *