“Rivers are places that renew our spirit, connect us with our past, and link us directly with the flow and rhythm of the natural world.

Ted Turner

My summers are spent in the scenic western lakes and mountains region of Maine. The area boasts over 110 lakes and ponds. I’ve paddled quite a few of the larger ones—Rangeley, Mooselukmeguntic, Beaver Mountain, Cupsuptic, Flagstaff, Little Kennebago, Loon, Aziscohos, Richardson, and Umbagog Lakes and Haley, Gull, Round, Sandy River, and Dodge Ponds. The region also has at least seven rivers. I’ve gone tubing on the Magalloway and paddled several of the others—the Kennebago, South Branch of the Dead, and the Cupsuptic.

One of my favorite paddles is up the Cupsuptic River, and my husband and I make the trip at least once a year in our kayaks, sometimes with friends or family. Our son and daughter-in-law and their German wire-haired pointer joined us on paddleboards this year.

The river’s boat ramp is about a half hour’s drive from our house and it has an easy launch area. Once in the water, we steer upriver to the right. A handful of cottages dot the river’s edge at the beginning of our trip, but soon the river twists and turns as we head north, and only thick forests line both sides.

The paddle is mellow and the air has a mild earthy scent. When the water is low, we pass a lot of grassy islands and sandy shores littered with driftwood. When it’s high, they remain invisible and we see only rocky and wooded banks and occasional floating sticks. It’s a true wilderness area and often, only slapping paddles and occasional bird cries break the quiet. Sometimes other kayakers and canoers might wave or yell a greeting in passing.

About a mile up the river, we head for our first goal—a high piece of land that juts out on the left. It’s not easy to pull in here because there isn’t much actual shore. On high-water days, you need to find a way to keep the kayaks from drifting before you get out. When the water is low, it’s better, but the climb up the embankment is steeper.

At the top is a rough wooden sign nailed to a tree that says, Hinkley’s Café. Nearby campground owners put it up as a joke. There’s no building, no wait staff, and nothing for sale but the picnic tables and cleared campsites are as close as you get to good service in the backwoods. It’s a nice spot to have a picnic lunch.

As I look out over the river from that high perch, I always enjoy the sweet smell of pine needles and feel myself absorbing the peacefulness. Mountain peaks, including West Kennebago, are visible to the east.

After a rest and some nourishment, we continue upstream and head around an island. The river on the backside of it is dotted with the remains of large trees that look like driftwood sculptures. As we weave around them, we’re careful to watch for underwater logs and rocks. Sometimes we see man-made, floating, wire tents set out for loons to nest in.

After rounding the island, we head into tall grass growing out of water deep enough to paddle through. It leads us back to the main river stream and we head left around a bend in the river into a narrower section.

The turn-around spot is a short way up. It’s where a lone cabin called Moorhens stands close to the water’s left edge. Here the river becomes a rocky stream that’s too narrow and shallow for the kayaks to continue.

After a slow paddle back to the boat ramp, the whole excursion on the water is around two miles and takes about two hours to explore.