Ashuelot River

The campground on Ashuelot River turned out to be a mellow place to hang out. We decided to pony up for another day and relax along the riverbank. We sat on the leafy berm overlooking the water enjoying a quiet breakfast and nursing a scalding hot mug of tea. Flurries of orange leaves would occasionally envelop us after a particularly forceful gust of wind, slowly drifting over us like a spring snow.

Reflecting on the reflections

The office had kayaks for rent. So after debating whether to ride bikes or paddle the river, the draw of the water won out. We launched directly in front of our camp and paddled to the right to go up river towards Keene. We kept a steady pace against the soft current taking a break or two along the way. Two hours into the outing, we arrived at a rail bridge crossing above us and the blister on my thumb said it was time to turn around.

We coasted a lot on the way back, reaching out to try to catch the fluttering leaves as they swirled down onto the surface of the river. The silence was only punctuated by the intermittent cry of the birds overhead. The sun was shining and the afternoon was warm and lazy. A day well spent.

Our nearest neighbors had taken their leave while we were out and left behind a large stack of firewood. It would be a pity to waste it, so we piled up a bonfire and spent the evening warming ourselves by the crackling coals.

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