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The winter months offer ample time to develop new skills and practice old ones! From rolling to rescues, you can redefine the limits of your current skill set and be ready for new, incredible adventures next summer. So, come on out and join us in a fun, supportive learning environment! Please note that space is extremely limited so be sure to register early. There are instructional spots and practice only spots available. The first session is on November 15th! Registration is easy at https://www.salemkayak.com/reserve/pool-sessions Please note that participants are required to wear masks unless on the water and encouraged to maintain social distancing while on the water. The number of spots available has been reduced from previous years to facilitate social distancing. Instructors will be masked and will instruct whenever possible in a socially distance manner.

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Extend your paddling season by months or make it a year-round pursuit by learning how to manage the effects of cold water! Join Rock, Paddle, Surf Kayak Coaching and Newbury Kayak for their free Cold Water Workshop. This day-long workshop is designed to help paddlers increase their knowledge of safety on the water. Speakers will explain some of the risks and dangers of cold water shock and hypothermia.They will review and discuss the pros and cons of cold water accessory gear, drysuits, and wet suits. Participants may choose to don cold water clothing and go jump in a river (Parker River)- all for FREE!Pre-registration is required using the link provided:https://forms.gle/wf8npJYUxKzhZomB9

Skip report; go straight to slideshow HERE Why I thought this trip would be the completion of my bucket list I’ll never know; perhaps I’ll get out a new bucket and start filling in the gaps of the Maine coast I haven’t paddled. This brainchild was hatched a year or more ago, and, from the start, included (newly-named) Bearded Socialite, a proven steady companion on previous treks. We were pleased to be joined late by Paul, who was able to squeeze time from work and family. I had worked out a scheme allowing us to do a one-way trip from Milbridge to Machias at a leisurely pace, relying on West Bus Service http://westbusservice.com/#SCHEDULE%20OF%20SERVICE for transport back to the launch site. Paul and I drove up separately to join Rob and the rest of the MDI party on Friday, for an 8am Saturday start from Bar Harbor to Milbridge. Rob kept tabs on the 3 kayaks while Paul and I drove to Machias to drop off our cars, and secure seats ($14 each-thank you Paul) on the van back to Milbridge, where we were dropped off a stone’s throw from the public ramp. A sunny, calm, warm day had us stripping out of the drysuits at the half-way point, and the easy paddling beckoned us to the longer CCW route around Bois Bubert to the camp site. We spent too much time trying to locate the rather obvious site, and wrote notes to “self” to read the MITA description before landing! A very pleasant site with room to spread out 3 little tents, without crowding. Route for Day 1: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6722011 Day 2 dawned slightly foggy with a 5-10 easterly, our general direction of travel. Off to Jordan’s Delight with its prominent, solitary saltbox perched on the southern high bluff, cozying to its rugged shore, then NE to Shipstern I., aptly named , before making our way towards the Mainland of Cape Split and Moose Neck. We followed the coast to Eastern Harbor, noting the absence of C “1”, before heading to Green I., via Tibbet and Ram. A rocky, choppy (my bad) landing preceded our lunch, warmed by Sol on the rocks. Stevens, our home for 2 nights was nearby, and we made haste to the sandy, welcoming cove to set up camp, cozy little alcoves for all. Route for Day 2: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6722336 A little rain interrupted the night, enough to create a big puddle in my poorly-pitched tarp, and fog was on the menu for an anticipated lengthy day trip to Great Wass. The dauntless 3 Amigos set paddle for Norton and found the middle of it after the 1-mile crossing. We handrailed CW to a westerly cove, then broke for Pomp, given the circumstance, hugging its western shore, before heading for the Beals bridge. We found relief from the 10-15 SW in the lee of Great Wass, and tucked into Sand Cove North for total calm and lunch on the rocks. With the fog disappearing, but the wind steady, we decided to tackle the trip to Sprucehead, and enjoyed a bumpy ride through Mud Hole Channel, splitting Knight and Mistake for a gander at the light. Into Head Harbor, inside Black, Crow Pt., Middle Hardwood and western tip of Head Harbor Island with beam to rear-quartering seas, before retracing our route back home, briefly bedazzled by the close-up display of Bald Eagle following the rules of Mother Nature. Norton and Pomp were slightly barred, and a short portage and rest before the long slog into the last, bumpy crossing to base camp at Stevens. After landing, a paddler slumped over his rear hatch brought concern for a pulled muscle, but max doses of vitamin I, and a few downward dogs, cat-cows, and cobras inside the tent brought partial relief. Route for day 3 http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6721770 By morning the worries for the sore paddler had abated, and we broke camp in an unhurried fashion, eyes on our next camp at Halifax. We followed a now-familiar route to the Beals bridge, under calm conditions, then eddy-hopped (bridge abutments) to the northern Jonesport side, to search for water. We chatted up a wharf-mate, who seemed a bit puzzled as to where to find restaurants, groceries, and potable water. We started easterly for the town dock before he hailed us back with welcome advice. The fire station across the road had an outside spigot AND public restroom! Rob and I filled our 3 depleted 6L dromedaries while Paul stayed with the boats at the strategically-placed pocket beach near the bridge. I had hoped to show the buds my grandparents old homestead on the way to Kelly Pt., but my prolonged absence (35 years) boggled my brain to its precise location. We had a nice lunch at Kelly Pt, Rob assembling his PB&J with the still-uncrushed, half-consumed bread loaf. Prominent signage at the shoreside, deserted, apparent park warned us to “not spoil our children’s fun”. We didn’t, and eyed the gentle 2+-mile crossing ahead to the Spruces, entering the southern channel, and passing bleating sheep on Little and a solitary cruiser at anchor near the thoroughfare. Roque Harbor was deserted, and the mile-plus sandy beach was admired from afar, as we paddled to Halifax’s NW cove, countering the fairly strong ebb seaward. A very cozy designated rectangle on the berm was agreed, at length, to be called “home” for at least one night. We would wait until morning to decide if sleeping like the Flinstones (sorta-we had air mattresses) was acceptable for the planned second nite. After setting up camp amid too many mossies, we gathered up provisions for dinner atop the western rise, then bushwhacked up the hillside to the peak, where we enjoyed supper, breathtaking views, including sunset/moonrise, and skeeters (not!). Route for Day 4: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6721559 Despite having slept OK, and ignoring warnings about the numerous radiation-emitting military towers and a creepy house, we decided that 2 nights on Cross I. would be favorable, so we meandered off in the general direction of Roque Bluffs State Park. We had expected to see some tall cliffs (why?), but the unimpressive coastline turned our kayaks to another MITA island , and we paddled bee-line under warm, sunny skies and flat seas to its northern cove. Lunch and a stroll around the island through long, then short grasses, had us guessing what the asking price was for this remote paradise. A range of 35K to 1.8M was elicited from the dubious voyagers, knowing that it included these residents: We now had Cross in our sites, 4 miles off, and aimed for big N “2”, passing NE Libbys, arriving at a taste of the “bold coast” along southern Cross, with slots, a sea cave, and precipitous cliff faces. Rob backed his way into the mostly submerged sea cave but didn’t get too far; we would attempt to check it out from land tomorrow. We arrived without fanfare to the old CG station, after passing the remains of the “older” CG building, now a pile of wood scrap near the shore. The old (haunted) house has served as base camp for Outward Bound sea adventures in the past, but we doubted it had seen these visitors over the preceding summer months, judging from the paucity of entries in the indoor log book. We spread out tents in the front field and enjoyed a quiet night under a starry/meteory sky, the red-blinking towers invading the otherwise bliss. Route for Day 5: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6721561 Thursday was to be a non-paddling day, we decided, so Rob and I donned our hiking shoes and set off for the famous sea cave. A jog before the privy led us to a boggy trail that brought us to a sandy cove, the dilapidated CG station in the distance. Try as we might to locate the coastal trail (dotted on the map) further along the shore, my bushwack in and out was fruitless, so we regrouped to head back to camp, and lunch. We decided to follow the more prominently-marked (thick dashes) trail leading to the cave, and had better luck, eventually leading to the cave at half-tide, but no entry. Back to camp around 5, salt- and fresh-water showers, critique of my repair kit, supper, and review of Tom Tieman’s 25-page copy of his trek along the Maine Coast, left behind from his trip several days before, as he finished the entire coast by patching in the last bit of Cross-to-Cutler with 3 other paddlers. Route for Day 6: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6721563 Another quiet paddling day for Friday, and we got on the water by 8:30 for the tedious slog to Machias, passing the very quiet Naval station shore, a large fish farm, and nondescript islands. I had promised the boys lunch at Helen’s, famous for their award-winning (a generic accolade, employed by any eatery, but well-deserved here) homemade pies. As we approached the ramp, my tired eyes tried to focus on the storefront sign on a building east of the causeway-stripes of orange and green with a central logo shaped like…….No, it couldn’t be. After all we’re now in Machias, Maine. The gal at the Irving station validated my impression, that, yes, that building down the road IS a Pat’s Pizza! I had to renege on my promise to Helen and the guys, but they were very agreeable to lunching at Pat’s, and we devoured most of the food in short order, stopped for take-out pie at Helen’s, then off (Rob and I) to Muscle Ridge for the next adventure! Route for Day 7: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6721564 NOTES: Food: oatmeal or granola bars (breakfast); PB&J (lunch); simmered grains/root veggies, box soup, Indian foil meal (supper) Water: 13L over 7 days; re-supply @ Jonesport Fire Department Camp: Hubba, NeoAir (thermarest), 40 degree synthetic

Skip report, go straight to slideshow HERE In the pre-planning days of late winter, I worried that our numbers would crowd the small islands we had planned to camp on. As luck would have it our Group of Seven intrepid gypsies whittled itself down abruptly, one month before the planned launch date, leaving Rob and me, two solo paddlers ("bearded recluse" and the later-to-be-named "solo wanderer"), to fend for ourselves. Early on, I had relayed to Rob that I was going on this trip "no matter what". I felt compelled to clarify that statement, lest Rob think he was paddling with a crazy maverick. I assured him that I was a very cautious paddler, though I suspect he was unsettled when I told him I was comfortable paddling at night, in calm conditions. In the end, I was glad he trusted me enough to join the most-fabulous-ever trip. Within an hour of leaving the house Friday morning I received a text from Susie: "pnt btr sandwchs on counter”; reply: “frzr”; reply: “done”. The trip had officially started. We met on Friday afternoon at 3 PM, a pre-arranged time to start the bartered (in exchange for multi-day parking) work party, rather than at the end of a long trip. At the end of the two hours of toiling, we wondered who got the better end of the deal, but would realize only later that it was us. Both anxious to start our journey, we met at the pre-arranged launch site the following day at 6 AM, and were packed and ready to launch an hour-and-a-half later, taking advantage of the outgoing (two hours) tide. A cloudy start later morphed into a bright sunny day with low winds, a perfect first day to our journey. After the short crossing of Eggemoggin Reach, we swung around the northern tip of Llittle Deer Isle, Pumpkin Island light to starboard, then a straight shot to___Island, passing Pickering and Bradbury to port. A short hike to the top of the hill opened up 360° views, Camden Hills to the west, Deer Isle to the southeast, and home base to the southwest, here indicated by Rob. We hopped back into our bright-orange boats and paddled leisurely to our next stop, Mullen Head Beach, for lunch and privy. Our southerly course wound between Calderwood and Stimpson's where we were greeted with head-on 12-knot southeast winds and peak flood. The two-mile slog was barren of conversation, as predicted, though Rob's broad grin was ever-present. We finally reached the opening to Winter Harbor, and quickly identified the two Northern-most MITA islands in the group of three. We settled on the most distant island, where we would spend the next three nights. [Access to most of these islands is difficult in the lower half of the tides, but we smartly arranged the agenda to take advantage of launching and landing near high tide, except for one occasion.] We chose two side-by-side mini coves to park and set up camp. After my too-long daily baby-wipe bath we enjoyed dinner on the rocks, mine a simple pasta with sauce, enhanced by sun-dried tomatoes and vacuum-packed fresh veggies (Note: they will keep up to four days if stored in the bottom of the boat), Rob’s a simmered, lime-infused corn (hominy),onions, and garlic burrito-thingy. We watched the sun set and talked into the night, unmotivated to build a fire, content to listen to the guttural eider moans, distant seal belches, and barely-audible peepers from a nearby mainland marsh. Route of Day 1: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=5943340 Our plan was to spend the next day circumnavigating Calderwood Neck the long way, by including a long stop on __ Island, and a trip to Northaven. After breakfast (sorta-my five-day supply of oatmeal was back in the car [never pack food in a re-sealable plastic/foil bag whose presumed contents (almonds) are already packed in a 10-oz screw top plastic container]) we launched to cloudy skies near high tide, crossed the bay to __ Island, beaching at a protected northerly pebbly cove. I had hoped to bag a geocache at the top of the hill, and within minutes Rob spotted the booty just off the trail. We explored the whole island along neatly-maintained paths, and shared muted fascination with changes to the landscape. Were the seemingly-charred, juniper-like bushes in the broad field a result of a controlled brush fire, or were they evidence of a selective fungus/virus decimation? Bent grass along the trails suggested a very recent visit by mainlanders, but upon closer inspection, the thin, central line of depression was likely an animal. The chalky shell-laden path scat was deposited by some quadraped akin to a small dog, we presumed-maybe a coyote? The meticulous trail maintenance should have resulted from a power saw, but different-angled cuts surely were placed by a hand lopper? Our legs rather enjoyed the 1.2 mile land hike, a welcome diversion to hours of paddling. Upon scouring the beach at our return to the boats, I found a nice pair (yes, pair, unattached) of Teva sandals. Both without timepieces (save stowed GPS and cells), we took turns estimating the time of day, with reference to primitive methods involving analog clock faces and sun location. Apparently Rob is tuned into the universe more acutely than I, as his guess was within one minute of 11:33am! Off to Northaven via the Fox Island thorofare light, landing at a desolate muscle mussel beach. At the ferry office we were happy to top off our six-liter dromedaries, as I had lost half of my supply due to a loose cap! The eatery across the street was temporarily closed for a Sunday afternoon play at the community center. The waiting line was qued up with teenage boys, and we joined in, anticipating its finish anon. Our late lunch was delicious, Rob enjoying his “Victor” double burger with fries, my “spurch” built with pesto, avocado, artichoke, feta, onions, sun-dried tomatoes, and vinaigrette between fresh, local focaccia slices-yummie! A quick check on tomorrow's weather via Rob's Internet phone, and a bathroom break, before heading back to the boats to continue our journey around Calderwood neck. We poked into Mill River, with all its nooks and crannies, passing the three giant wind turbines that supply much of Vinalhaven’s power. The current was flooding north under the tiny bridge, and we still managed to scrape our paddles two hours before high tide. We turned west and peeked into Vinal Cove, passing shoreside quarries close to the entrance to the Cove, surprised that granite-laden vessels would dare venture this far up the inlet. Curiosity got the best of me and I was determined to explore an outcropping that I presumed might lead to a quarry above. Not to be, but the short hike and rock scramble was fun nevertheless. Water levels allowed us to pass between Penobscot Island and the mainland back to our base camp, where we set up the tarp in anticipation of rain, and enjoyed another fine supper. A visit to the tool kit for a quick, but effective field repair to Rob's balky skeg before light drizzle, fog, and a dismal weather forecast drove us to our tents early. With our plans to break camp and make a clockwise trip to Vinalhaven the next day squelched, we both decided to sleep in, with nothing on tomorrow's agenda. Route of Day 2: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=5943358 It rained heavily during the night, and I dozed off and on during the early morning hours, quite surprised to be unzipping the tent fly at 9:54. Today's forecast was for showers, mainly in the morning, and we half-expected to be lolling about, reading in our tents. My legs, not pleased with the agenda of lolling about, had other ideas. I'm not sure Rob was happy to hear the suggestion that we could walk to Vinalhaven, but being the trooper that he is, thought it a splendid idea. I had packed a pamphlet of the Huber Preserve, a beautiful trail that cuts through forest and wetlands. The trailhead was within a five-minute paddle, and we parked the boats on a large granite outcropping before embarking on our overland trek. The trail brought us to Round-the-Island Road; our eight-mile hike would cover this aptly-named "square" by traveling south, west, north, and then east along equidistant segments-no map needed. My puppies were groaning as we arrived at the only eatery open at this time of year/day, the “Harbor Gawker”. Rob ordered a fish sandwich with chowder, and I dispatched a lobster roll with haste. Not enough for this breakfast/lunch/water-deprived sailor, I chased it down with a fresh crab roll. We were perplexed why saltwater Carver’s Pond was winning the battle with the near-peak opposing flood? A quick check on tomorrow's weather (ideal) before we headed off to finish our hike. In no time we were lucky to hitch a ride with a local, who drove well out of his way to drop us off at the Preserve parking lot. We were thankful to have the lift, watching the 4 extra miles slowly tick off from the back of the speeding pick-up. Back to the boats, sharing stories of getting lost on land, before clockwising Penobscot Island back to base camp. Route of Day 3: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=5943366 We had planned to launch 6 AM for the long paddle back, but as almost always happens, we pushed off one hour late. I keep a plastic ruler and credit card calculator in my kit for purposes of calculating waypoints to recognizable aids to navigation. I had calculated W68.48.125 and N44.07.864 for nun #2, east of channel rock, at the entrance to the thoroughfare. The forecast called for showers, fog, and light winds from the east. It would be prudent to have a backup of GPS for potential fog. When we arrived at the nun my GPS read W68.48.105 N44.07.861, off by ~82 and 18 feet, respectively. On Rob's chart only, a neighboring bell buoy was conspicuously absent-remember to report to NOAA. Rob made a quick stop on ____ to rearrange his weathercocky ride; a thirteen-pound dromedary shifted from behind the backband to the fore-most cockpit did the trick. We proceeded to Spoon and Snoop Ledges, where dozens of seals, some with pups, half-surrounded our stilled boats with staring occupants. We beached at___within the Barred Island chain, despite warnings to stay away, per state of Maine law, exceptions to which include fishing, fowling, and navigation (us). I coveted Rob's newly-donned storm cag; nice to see it employed for its dual purpose off AND on the water. A long (seemingly, to this tired paddler), chilly (forecast was for 60 degrees, but my car later told me 52), and wet (showers) crossing to for a final stop, before heading back to the cars, and home. Route of Day 4: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=5943378 TAKE-HOME NOTES/OBSERVATIONS: -I was quite satisfied to have such a compatible, knowledgeable, and skilled paddling partner; we were able to agree on every major decision. -My buddy shares the same fondness for PB&J-don't ever leave home without it! -We made the right choice to camp first on the eastern side-lots of protected coves and areas to explore for several days, including day hike options. -Rob's research indicates the weather is stronger on the SE side, based on historical buoy data. Use utmost care attempting this route. -Pay attention to the weather 2-3 days out. Remember you have to make the long return trip once out there, yet still allow a full day or more for exploring. -Always wear a timepiece-important for dead reckoning. -GPS data indicates our cruising speed averages 3.3-3.5k. -Practice calculating waypoints; fog is ever-present in this neck of the waters. -Breakfast and lunch are over-rated (my back-up: lemon granola bars, Dove chocolate squares, and 10 oz almonds).