Twin Lakes

Together they are called the Twin Lakes - Washining and Washinee are the actual names. The lakes are located in the northwest corner of Connecticut.

M joins me with my new canoe.  We meet G and A at the state boat launch on Washining Lake, but the quarter mile dirt road leading to the water is blocked by a downed tree.  Yesterday a wind storm and possible tornado came through the area.  We all backtrack a mile to O'Hara's Landing Marina.  It is a small old school marina and while they charge a fee for launching, M talks them in to giving us a discount. 

We put in and set out under overcast skies with almost no wind and temperatures in the mid-60's.  It is ideal canoe weather.

Today is my first trip here, and I am pleased.  There are lakeside houses but they are well spaced out and many of them are modest and partially hidden in the trees.  At a distance, all around, are tall forested hills and it is noticeably quiet with the exceptions being a generator here and there for a house that has lost power from the storm, and a couple of chainsaws where people are clearing downed trees. We see a kayak and canoe from a distance and a couple fishing boats, and that is all the boat traffic for this day.

The four of us follow the shoreline north and around to an island that is connected to the mainland by a short bridge.  The island is home to a summer camp for the American School for the Deaf. We can spy some interesting architecture from the water - the island was once a rich guy's estate.  We spot a mature Bald Eagle, adding to several Great Blue Herons that we've seen.

There is a short narrow channel - maybe 75 yards, that leads to Washinee Lake.  This channel is small enough to prevent motorboats from passing.  Washinee is smaller but just as pleasant as Washining - a few well spaced houses. 

At the north end of the lake we find the outflow.  Just short of a half mile further, there is a dam with manual gates to maintain the lake level.  From there, there is a small creek that winds quite a way north and finds its way to the Housatonic.

At the dam

We all turn and head back out, voting unanimously to make a direct route so as to get to Ohara's in time to eat at their rustic diner. The lakeside diner reminds me of something I might find in Northern Minnesota and everyone there is quiet happy to have  conversation.  One of the guys turns out to be employed by the town to control the lake level - he's the one who turns the valves at the outflow.  A leaves before eating, but the remaining three of us have a nice talk over burgers fries and onion rings.