Adirondack paddling perfection on the East Branch of the St. Regis River

Introducing ‘The Next Bend,’ a paddling column by Adirondack Explorer’s water reporter 

By Zachary Matson

It’s amazing how much a river can change in two weeks. 

I first paddled the East Branch of the Saint Regis River the second Monday in May. Tree buds were bursting with spring energy, brushstrokes of muted color signifying the return of warm weather. The sun was strong and temperatures topped 70 degrees, seemingly pushing new buds out of dormancy in real time as we paddled along what is classified as a scenic river but has many of the hallmarks of a wild one. No cars. No camps peeking through the trees. No other paddlers. (We were just the third party to sign in at the trail register this year.)

Former Explorer editor Phil Brown joined me for a stretch of the river that sets off from a put-in on the Santa Clara easement tract accessed via a woods road off state Route 458. Much of the surrounding terrain is part of a timber easement, but the river corridor itself is state owned, purchased as part of a large deal with Champion International, a timber holding company, in the late 1990s. A quarter-mile carry to the hand launch adds to the feeling of wildness.

“Part of the charm is it’s not popular,” Brown said. 

I asked Brown to suggest a good destination and come along for this inaugural paddling column. Since before joining the Explorer, I’ve been slowly working my way through his Adirondack Paddling guidebook. The Kunjamuk River. Boreas Ponds. West Branch of the Sacandaga River. The mile-and-a-half carry from Saint Regis Pond to Fish Pond in the Saint Regis Canoe area. Brown also has 25 years under his belt of exploring Adirondack rivers and tracking the kinds of developments in access, ownership and conditions a journalist is invested in publicizing to all who are interested.

As the Explorer’s water reporter for nearly four years, I’m focused on everything from wastewater infrastructure to flood risk to dam safety. But there are few better ways to understand the water coursing through this sprawling park than to set out with a pack canoe. 

This column’s name, The Next Bend, aims to capture the pull we all feel while paddling. A pull toward what lies around the next turn in the river, a pull that drags us deeper into the Adirondacks’ wild landscapes. Even when tired and hungry, sunbaked and bug bit, the next bend always beckons. Perhaps around the next bend you will spot a mother bear and cubs on the bank or that large moose you have been dreaming about for years. Or maybe the stress you tried to lock away in your car will be fully purged around the next bend. 

As Brown and I traveled the meandering river, brilliant green Veratrum viride, also known as Indan poke or false hellebore, sparkled on both banks. The foliage looked fresher and more suited to its environment than any garden plant I’ve ever grown — though a quick internet search warned me to avoid ingesting this toxic plant. 

The bendy river — made less windy by high water, Brown said — splits into numerous oxbows and offshoots. On a couple of occasions, Brown misread the current and briefly sidetracked us into weedy deadends. 

“We’re not lost,” the guidebook author said. “We’re just turned around.”

We reflected on Brown’s career of Adirondack exploration and pined over the prospect of a particular lake-filled property finding its way to state ownership. Brown called the Whitney Estate a “missing piece” and the last major opportunity to expand paddling in the region. 

“That’s how governors make a legacy,” he said of major Adirondack acquisitions.

Brown outlines 65 paddles in his guidebook (with another six added to a forthcoming update) and the Explorer’s archives are replete with his adventures.  

So are these paddles worth revisiting? Can a new set of eyes find something fresh and interesting. Absolutely, Brown said. They are always worth revisiting.

So that’s the goal of this column. Sometimes I’ll go with others and sometimes I’ll go alone. Sometimes I’ll have news about the Adirondack paddling world, and sometimes I’ll have a recommendation for a family-fun paddle or maybe an overnight trip better suited for those who find joy in suffering amid beautiful surroundings. 

I returned to the East Branch on an equally-stunning day in late May to paddle another section that starts just upstream of Everton Falls, part of a Nature Conservancy preserve. There was no Indian poke to be found, a white-flowered plant instead taking center stage.

As the trees’ leaves slowly unravel in spring, they take on a light, airy feel. Where the colors of fall evoke the sense that something is fading away, the colors of spring, even more ephemeral, feel like something is calling you back to nature. I spotted small juvenile brook trout shimmying in a shallow, sand-bottomed eddy.

Traversing upstream a little over a mile, I tackled the one spot where a little muscle is needed to navigate some quick water as the river splits and encircles a small island. After squeezing through a narrow gap in the treeline, the river opens to a broad wetland, rolling hills in the distance. The chatter of birds was at least a few notches higher than just two weeks before. 

Both trips were well short of the 20-mile round-trip possible on this stretch of flatwater. That’s another paddle for another day and another column. 

Do you have ideas for a paddle I should check out or an unforgettable Adirondack paddling story to share? I want to hear them. Send tips, suggestions and fond memories to [email protected].