Today is the day we discovered the west shore of Willsboro Bay! We’re not the first one’s to appreciate its incredible beauty, of course, but we did not know about it until we got there. Our experience from a kayak seemed particularly dramatic both because of the slow speed we traveled and how close we could get to the precipitous cliffs. We were so enthralled it prevented us from worrying about the weather-at least for a time.

Now, weather can be a very boring subject, but this summer, it has been a constant factor. Sometimes, it has even been interesting. We have certainly been more aware of the weather than ever before in our lives. It may be enough of an introduction to say that we had scrubbed a possible trip the day before because of a forecast for winds and storms. That afternoon, I watched with a feeling of vindication for our joint decision and a little awe, as pea size and occasional quarter size hail banged against the windows driven by high winds. And once again I realized that, but for a lucky smart decision, we could have been out there in that storm.

But, this day dawned cloudy with a forecast for later clearing to partial sun with a potential for afternoon showers but no storms. We were game but wary. It took almost 2 hours to set up the cars and boats including dropping my car at the ramp site at the base of Willsboro Bay. We pulled up to the Port Kent ramp amidst the ferry traffic, unloaded our kayaks, and parked the car. On the way back from the car, Cathy chatted with an older man who told her that the weather forecast had changed to cloudy with “thunderstorms moving in”. Oops, another tick up on the wary meter but enough already! We shoved off.

It is hard to understate the visual differences in the two sides of the lake in this particular section between Plattsburgh and Willsboro on the west and Grand Isle and Shelburne on the east. As Vermonters’ we know the Chittenden and Island shoreline pretty well. We also have kayaked most of it by now. We are more used to the layered mostly black rock with its twists and upheavals. And while there are many places where access to the lake is a precipitous drop, the cliffs are rarely higher than 50 feet and the water at the bottom is usually shallow. In fact much of the northern shore that we have paddled has been shallow. In Chittenden, Grand Isle, and to a lesser extent, Franklin County, the shoreline is either settled or open farmland. For the most part, the land gently slopes back from the shore to the distant Green Mountain ridge. The Vermont side of the Champlain Valley is often a rich farmland. On the New York side there is little open, flat land. Rather the hills and small mountains rise from the lakeshore. These differences shaped early settlement attracting farmers to the Vermont side while the New Yorkers relied on the manufacture of potash for cash.

Pushing away from the boat ramp at Port Kent and heading south, we were again passing a wooded undeveloped shoreline. Thanks again to the railroad. But as close as the railroad track is, it is not very visible except for an occasional avalanche of small rocks created during construction or subsequent washouts. We also have seen a number of work vehicles rumbling up and down the track. The beach was long and shallow, streaked with black sand. Was that the natural color of the sand or evidence of earlier pollution? We have not found the answer. Posted signs dotted the trees unlike other beaches under the railroad. These were signed by a private party.

We seemed a long way from anywhere when we rounded the cliffs at the end of the bay with one eye on the sky and one on possible places to pull out if needed. It felt as if we were in an exposed, uninhabited area. But, around the next bend we found ourselves in front of a well maintained house where two women were working on the beautiful gardens.

The many lovely homes along Trembleau Point only distracted us a bit from Schuyler Island about half a mile to the west. We did notice on the mainland, the first of many trees that we were to see that day which appeared to have been snapped off their roots by high wind by yesterday’s storm. There had been reports of many trees down in this area and we were witnessing the damage along the lake.

Looking out at Schuyler Island reminded us again of the courage and luck of Benedict Arnold and his men during the American Revolution as they fled south from the pounding they had taken at the hands of the superior British fleet at the Battle of Valcour 8 miles to the north. Arnold led his damaged boats silently south through the night and cover of fog. When he got to Schuyler Island, he was forced to sink two of them which were damaged beyond repair, to prevent them from eventually getting in the hands of the British. The engagement of the fledging American Navy and a stronger British fleet was to continue as the ships moved south. We looked forward to paddling eventually to Arnold Bay, Crown Point and Fort Ticonderoga, experiencing the wind and weather that played so important a role in those naval battles of October 1777. Living in the Champlain Valley is to be constantly reminded of its long history.

We had planned to circle Schuyler Island but with great respect for the long line of black clouds blowing from northwest to southeast over our right shoulders, we decided on a more conservative route staying close to shore. Luckily, neither one of us capsized our kayaks as we strained to turn our 60 something year old heads in owl-like fashion to check on the clouds. We Vermonters are used to having the whole lake to look across to see what weather is coming our way. On the New York shore that is an unheard of luxury. A storm cloud can be upon you before you can see how deep or long it might be and whether it is followed by blue sky or more clouds and rain.

Rounding the point and heading southeast with Schuyler behind us, the railroad again insured a wooded shoreline. The next beach was made of small cobblestones which were the first we had seen. On a 1776 Brassier map, this stretch was aptly named Stoney Bay. The land was not posted and a pair of kayakers were enjoying the deserted shore. Further on, we saw our first pair of redstarts. Nearby, a bluebird called.

Port Douglas was straight ahead, recognizable not for its many houses but rather for it’s somewhat elaborate launch site, picnic area, and beach. Time for lunch! We paddled around the floating lines which seemed to indicate a number of possible swimming levels, and landed on the sand beach. Looking back to the northeast there was a great view between Schuyler and the mainland, of Providence Island and the South Hero shore. Burlington was directly across from us and we could see the skyline of the city 10 miles away clearly visible today across what is the widest point in the lake. What a contrast in populations between the two shores, at this point in the lake!

Several small children played nearby, watched over by a woman who was reading. It reminded us of how contented our children used to be with some sand, pails, and their own imaginations. Rain soon drove us to shelter under the roof the bathroom/life guard building.