From the Forks

June 21, 2010

We put in at the forks.  The Shetucket comes in from the east, the Yantic from the west, and magically they become the Thames that leads down to the sea.  That the largest river, the Thames, doesn't keep a name all the way to one source is a geographical mystery to me.

We started up the Shetucket.  The northern bank of this river is populated with a large number of mill remains that have long since been abandoned, burned or demolished.  Brick foundation walls and outflow tunnels from the water driven factories are the main markers.

Within a 1/2 mile the river starts to become shallow and boulders start to appear just below the surface.  We weave through a rock garden against easy swift water and wade one bank to bank gravel bar.  Even though I timed the trip for high tide, this spot is just a bit short of floating a loaded canoe.  Some open water leads to another rock garden that requires a bit more detailed route finding to avoid grounding out or being pushed back by fast water.  And with that we come to the impressive ruins of the Capeheart Mill.

Capeheart Mill ruins

The textile mill remains stands on a man made island with the back channel being the water power feed from the Greenville Dam that lies another half mile upriver.  After going upriver a couple hundred yards to where it becomes wading depth, we return to explore the banks and outflow tunnels.

M collects a mud filled clock radio.  The mill was burned in 2010 most likely by an arsonist.  So, the radio is possibly something that washed out of the mill as the fire department hosed the flames.  Two years ago I found a rusty mechanical check writing machine near this spot.  We also find some 1 inch wide drive chain.  Unfortunately, the water is too low to get the canoe into the tunnels, so we go in a ways on foot in until the mud becomes shoe-sucking.  There are some recent raccoon or opossum tracks.  As we load up to leave, I manage to tip the canoe over and drown my camera.  Hopefully, it will recover, but if not it is 10 years old with 20,000 photographs on its resume.

We pick and drift our way back down through the boulders and pass our put in to head up the Yantic.  Once past the marinas, which are on a long island in the river, the Yantic becomes quiet surround by lush forested hillsides.  Then, one more old mill, this one converted with a good deal of care into condominiums.  Just upstream of the mill is the former power source, a fifty foot cascade that tumbles down through a narrow break in the cliffs.  We make a few meanders and around islands and return.