Below The Dam

 With July temperatures creeping into the 90s, Vermonters head to the water. In Vernon that means any number of brooks, swimming holes, the town pool and the Connecticut river. After supper on Friday, Wayne and I headed to the beach below the dam. We found not the crowds that I had anticipated, but rather a peaceful scene with a few families swimming, a puppy learning about beach life and people fishing.  

Let's go for a walk as the sun begins to dip in the sky allowing for the cooling air to wash ashore atop rippling river waters. 

With the sunlight nearly done dancing on the flower petals, driftwood has been collected and a small beach fire is set.  It is time for us to call it a day. - Norma Manning

Our Life Jackets Saved Us

I'm super fussy about wearing Coast Guard approved personal flotation devices when aboard any type of boat. Today while paddling  on the Connecticut River, we lost Wayne's phone, our water bottle, a towel and our canoe; but our life jackets may have saved our lives.

We started out later than planned, one day later to be exact. Wayne always the heavy lifter, put our red, Old Town, Penobscot canoe on the car while I loaded the paddles and jackets. When we arrived at the Vernon Dam there was already a canoe and a boat in the water. Now to say that I am paranoid about entering the water for such activities might be what Wayne would call it; but I think of it as being prepared. I used to be Red Cross certified Water Safety Instructor (WSI) and worked at that job for seven years. I had previously lent my jacket out and I was complaining that I couldn't get it adjusted. Wayne knowing that I wasn't going anywhere without a perfect fit patiently helped me to refit it. I always tie a whistle to my jacket strap and mentioned to Wayne, "Wouldn't it be great if they had a waterproof zip phone pocket on life jackets?"

The island in the river across from the Cold Brook is in bloom with colors of purple, lavender, red and white. in my mind I was already planing my blog and this was my first picture. The river seemed calm with only a slight current making taking pictures of wispy goose feathers floating on top of the water a bit challenging. The banks are a mix of sandy beach and large outcroppings of smooth rock. Near the beginning of Stebbins road there is a river overlook where a cable ride to the other side used to be. I snapped a picture of a survey(?) pin installed in the rock there.  The river is clear with long green weeds growing on the bottom that are interspersed among the gravel and submerged trees. We came across a camp of several tents with children and adults as they were just getting off of their boat. I asked if I could include them in my blog and they happily agreed. Wayne who always paddles from the back gave me updates as to where he thought we were on the river. There was a beautiful waterfall and at one point Wayne mentioned that he thought that we were behind the post office. We were taking our time but mindful that strong storms were predicted for the afternoon. You will have to forgive me that the order of the trip is mixed up because my adrenaline is continuing to adjust down.

"Can you go towards that Cottonwood so I can take a picture with the mountain behind?" I was more focused on getting a great picture than the changing river current as we neared the tree. Wayne was the only one paddling at this point when he alerted me that the current was taking the canoe. I stuffed the phone between my jacket and my shirt and attempted to help us break clear of the growing current. It was too late. Just like that we were forced upon the tree and into the water. Our canoe was flipped with my end towed under the big tree. When I came up I saw that Wayne and I were both fighting to not go with it. My jacket kept kept me upright and I was bracing myself against the current on a log. The log wasn't fixed and was being pushed up against the tree. I believe that the canoe getting hung up, and the fact that I was wearing my jacket are the reasons that I was kept from being drug under the tree. I could reach a tangle of branches beneath my feet and searched for more stable ground. Wayne however was closer to shore, he was also chest deep and fighting a significantly stronger undertow. He was holding onto the end of the canoe which was pitched up closer to the surface of  the water. We were in trouble, coping with our sudden baptism, assessing the danger and trying to determine if the canoe could be salvaged.

Wayne at one point was pulled back under while trying to upright the canoe. When he came up his glasses were falling off of his face and I yelled for him to bite them! It's odd what you say and do during a crises and for some reason I thought that it was a good time to tell him I had lost the phone. Wayne wasn't too happy about that development. We fought and fought for all we were worth to free the canoe. At times we thought we were making progress but the ribs of the boat broke free. In one last ditch effort, we found the handle at the bow and pulled as hard as we could only to have the entire boat, though now upright, pin under the tree. We were both exhausted and I told Wayne to leave the canoe, that we needed to try to get ourselves to safety. We could see a path on the opposite bank and so began to work our way towards that landmark. The more we progressed towards the middle of the river and away from the tree, the shallower and calmer the water became. We were able to walk most of the distance, swam in a few spots and found that the path was a steep deer trail. After we managed to navigate the bank we found ourselves in a large field with weeds that were over our heads...each carrying our paddles. You see, during the struggle both Wayne and I had thought to retrieve our paddles and place them in the tree for safe keeping. Having my paddle while trying to get away from the current was a huge help as I used it like a hiking pole by sticking it into the river bottom.

When we got to the opposite side of the field there was a farm road and we walked on it right up to Beth Eriksson's front yard. Beth was standing there holding a box of something from her garden looking calm as a cucumber, completely refreshed, with impeccable hair and a big smile on her face. I who looked like a drowned rat covered in river muck and farm weeds, waved my paddle in the air to gain her attention. I love Beth, there is no other way to put it, without hesitation she offered up the pristine back seat of her car saying that it happens a lot. She put down a blanket, we climbed in paddles, jackets glasses, ball caps, mud and all and Beth with her Covid-19 mask on drove us back to the dam. Wayne discovered that he still had his sunglasses in his pocket and by some miracle we both had our car keys. If I forgot to say thank you before you pulled away Beth - Thank You, for your calm demeanor and generosity. I have no words except amazing!

So here I am two hours later writing my blog from the comfort of our office chair. Wayne has a nasty scratch and bruise under his arm and one on top of his shoulder.  He is on his way to Tractor Supply to find a come-a-long because being a Navy Veteran (submariner ironically) he refuses to leave his boat in the river. I'll leave the logistics up to him, I'm not going back today...my ribs are sore and my life jacket is still wet. -Norma Manning

Update: During this accident I tore my left bicep muscle.  I didn't realize I had injured myself when I wrote this blog entry and I am still healing from it on November 27th. Wayne and I weren't able to recover our cherished Old Town Canoe.

On a better day of canoeing at Lily pond a few years ago

I Saw It First

One of my earliest memories as a child was to be the first kid in the car to proclaim, "I saw it first!" No matter if we were coming from Georgia, Kansas or as close as Burlington's North End, the first of us to spy the waters of Lake Champlain on our way to my grandparent's house in South Hero would holler out those words.  I continued to play that game by myself in college, as a mother with my own children when my parents lived there and even today with Wayne at what is now my sister's home.

It's funny how a body of water can mean different things to different people. Wayne, who was born and raised in Bellows Falls, remembers the CT River as the place that he went fishing but would never dare eat the fish. His memories of the polluted river have persisted and even now while watching Vernon families swim below the dam, Wayne refuses to swim or fish in the CT.

I stopped at the town hall recently to ask Mr Arsenault, how many miles of Vernon are borderd by the CT, in typical Tim fashion he anserwerd, "all of them." Unlike some of the historically commercial and industrial areas of the valley, Vernon has never turned it's back to the river. Brattleboro built the canyon that is Main street with its tall buildings between its residents and the river; but when the Europeans arrived in Vernon, they took advantage of the rich soils deposited here by the water to farm and farms remain here still.

Over the decades, progress did manage to catch up with Vernon, a hydroelectric dam was constructed, and in 1972 the now closed Vermont Yankee came online using the CT as its source for cooling water. With progress came a fence that separated resident from river.  Like many others, it was VY and the river that brought us to Vernon. With jobs came housing, pavement and other development that devided up the land and met the needs of the people. 

At our Town Meeting last night it was clear that Vernon continues to grapple with moving forward post Vermont Yankee. We are at a crossroads trying to strike a balance between meeting our civic obligations  and retaining Vernon's rural heritage. What becomes of the parcel between Governor Hunt rd and the river will be determined over the next decade.  

Last night the town voted to set aside money for legal consultation for future industrial development and we voted to set aside additional funds for Farmland Conservation. My hope is that in genarations to come, families in Vernon will look to the river - I saw it first! -Norma Manning