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Canoe trek on the Ausable Marsh on a hot summer day

We've reached that time of year when summer is at its ripest. The first smells of fall are in the air, the first signs of fall color in the trees....

Brian paddles down the Ausable River on a hot summer day. Photo: Susan Waters

We've reached that time of year when summer is at its ripest. The first smells of fall are in the air, the first signs of fall color in the trees.

But late August is still a time for mostly bug-free paddles on North Country lakes and rivers. Here's an audio postcard Brian Mann sent last summer from the Ausable Marshes on the shore of Lake Champlain.

Brian's audio postcard from Ausable Marshes first aired last August.

The river is close and muggy, as kingfishers weave from tree to tree. Photo: Susan Waters
The river is close and muggy, as kingfishers weave from tree to tree. Photo: Susan Waters
My paddling partner today is my wife Susan.  As we head down the river, it feels sort of like we’re going underwater – it’s that humid, and the air is thick with birds flitting back and forth from bank to bank.  "This paddling reminds me of a Louisiana bayou," Susan says.  "Not quite as hot, but it's only nine o'clock in the morning."

Then the river opens wide to the big expanse of Lake Champlain. Photo: Susan Waters
Then the river opens wide to the big expanse of Lake Champlain. Photo: Susan Waters
We wind our way down the last elbows of the Ausable River to where it opens wide. Lake Champlain is shockingly big after the intimacy of paddling through forest. "There's a haze," Susan says. "The Green Mountains are silhouetted in the distance."

Susan wades ashore. To our surprise, we find that the muck and silt of the river has suddenly given way to bright sand. After all that sticky paddling it’s time for a swim. Susan goes in head-first, whooping and puffing.

Susan prepares to take the plunge, cooling off after a sticky paddle. Photo: Brian Mann
Susan prepares to take the plunge, cooling off after a sticky paddle. Photo: Brian Mann
There’s enough of a breeze that we can picnic without any bugs, kind of a miracle, given the huge marsh just at our backs. Then we’re off again, this time pulling the canoe along behind us as we wade along the margin of the lake.

This paddling reminds me of a Louisiana bayou. Not quite as hot, but it's only nine o'clock in the morning.
After the delight of birds up in the forest, we discover we’re surrounded by a new flock, brightly colored, flitting around our feet. The water deepens so we climb back in the boat and set off again, aiming for the other braid of the river that will take us back around the marsh, finishing the loop.

It feels like we’ve paddled from the forest to the sea; sultry bayous giving way to sandy beaches, big water, and big vistas.

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