Maybe it's just that all these things are happening to me at once.

Mike Krepner can talk all he wants about Indians and history and heritage, but this is two miles of hell.

It was Krepner and his friends who in 1985 reopened this centuries-old canoe carrying route between Fourth Machias Lake and Gassabias Lake. The Gassabias Portage is the only carry along the 130-mile Eastern Maine Canoe Trail that's inaccessible by road. And in the view of Krepner, who takes some perverse delight in carrying a canoe over his head for miles, this is the most difficult portage in Maine.

Over the next four hours, we would learn why.

WGME's Marnie MacLean and Jack Amrock carry their canoe through a difficult section of a 2 mile portage between Fourth Machias Lake and Gassabias Lake. Staff photo by John Patriquin.

This miserable portage is part of a 130-mile canoe trip undertaken by a four-person team from The Portland Newspapers and WGME-TV (NewsChannel 13). For three weeks, we are traveling down the St. Criox River and over the lakes and streams of eastern Maine.

For more than a thousand years, the web of lakes and rivers etched across Maine's forested landscape was the equivalent of today's highway system. With the advent of birch-bark canoes, native people were able to move about the state along these travel routes.

In the 20th century, paved highways and logging roads eliminated the need for these historic water trails. But many still exist, and now these trails are being rediscovered. The route we are traveling connects the St. Croix River on the New Brunswick border with the Penobscot River north of Bangor. It has been dubbed the Eastern Maine Canoe Trail.

Organizers see the trail as a prototype for a more ambitious idea - a 700-mile water route stretching from New York state to northern Maine. They envision the day when canoeists will be able to follow a series of ancient Indian waterways and portages from Fort Kent to Old Forge, N.Y. It would be called the Northern Forest Canoe Trail.

There are challenges. In northern Maine, for instance, timberland owners are leery of the Northern Forest Canoe Trail proposal. They fear private property rights would in time lose out to the public's desire for a wilderness-like experience.

Still, efforts to establish water trails are under way on rivers including the Penobscot, Androscoggin and Kennebec. People are learning the history of ancient water routes and trying to gain and preserve access to them for modern recreation travel.
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Portage caps good week

Our canoeing team, with newspaper photographer John Patriquin in my boat and WGME-TV's Amy Sinclair and Don Couillard in the other, leaves after sunrise Tuesday, July 15, from the fishing village of Grand Lake Stream to travel up West Grand Lake.

With a gentle breeze at our stern, we make good time on our journey across Maine's eighth-largest lake. As we leave the cove at Grand Lake Stream, the view opens up. The rolling forest looms ahead like folded strips of green velvet, sewn between blue sheets of water and sky.

Soon, we arrive at the Thoroughfare, a narrow waterway between West Grand and Pocumcus lakes. Here, we meet Jack Perkins, a Maine Guide and builder of the renowned Grand Laker canoes. Perkins is caretaker for a rustic family compound at the Thoroughfare, and on this day he is doing chores to prepare for the family's August visit.

Mike Krepner and his wife, Ellen Libby make their way along the shore of Fourth Machias Lake. Staff photo by John Patriquin.

But he makes time to take us on an arrowhead hunt.

The Thoroughfare is a natural passage between two lake systems. For thousands of years, Indians camped here on the sandy beaches and speared fish passing through the narrows. They left behind many artifacts, including two flint arrowheads Perkins found recently. But after hours of combing the shoreline, all we have is an appreciation for how many pointy pebbles look like Indian artifacts.

The next day, we continue on to The Pines, a 130-year old sporting camp on lower Sysladobsis Lake. There, we rendezvous with Mike Krepner, his wife, Ellen Libby, and their two malamute huskies, Vuka and Tuktu. They'll be joining us for the Gassabias Portage.

Meanwhile, WGME switches its television crew, and we're joined by reporter Marnie MacLean and photographer Jack Amrock. It's time for Couillard and Sinclair to say goodbye, or, as Sinclair puts it, ''head back to the land of flush toilets.''

Smart move.

Waking to ravens' cries

Purple, flowering pickerel weed along the winding creek. Staff photo by John Patriquin.

We put our three boats in at the top of Fourth Machias Lake and paddle into a glorious morning. Fourth Machias may be my favorite water body on the trail. Islands, marshes and distant mountains create a diversity of views. The glaciers left behind a pronounced esker, a sand and gravel ridge, along the west shore that is dotted now with stands of red pine and white birch. At spots, the esker spills down to the lake to form beautiful sand beaches.

By 9 a.m., we complete our four-mile paddle down the lake and slip into a winding creek. We follow a twisting channel, lined with purple, flowering pickerel weed. Finally, we spot a brown sign stuck in the muddy shoreline. It says ''portage'' and depicts a person with a canoe overhead. This state-owned area is part of the 25,000-acre Duck Lake public lands unit. Conservation workers put up the sign last year.

Krepner is excited to see the sign. He hasn't been here in 12 years. The sign represents an official recognition of this place, which was a key link to the historic travel routes of eastern Maine. To one side lay the Penobscot River drainages; to the other, the St. Croix and the sea.

Canoeists take to land

First off, I can see this isn't really a trail, which is a beaten path. We're standing calf-deep in a cedar swamp. Where the water's deep, Krepner and others have laid crude log bridges. These slippery, unsteady spans give the appearance of a trail. And they'd be OK if you were carrying a day pack. But as Patriquin helps me steady our 80-pound canoe over my head, I instantly recognize why wilderness canoe portages have fallen out of favor as a mode of travel.

Within minutes, my arms feel like rubber. I stumble over the logs and trip on rocks as I attempt to negotiate this so-called trail. When I can no longer stand, I toss the canoe aside and collapse.

An exhausted Marnie MacLean and Jack Amrock try to catch their breath after finishing a tough 2 mile portage between two lakes. Staff photo by John Patriquin.

Next, Patriquin takes a turn. I gather up the paddles, day packs, photo equipment and life vests and follow. Behind me, Marnie MacLean is hefting a boat. But soon she loses her footing and falls.

And where's Mike Krepner? Up ahead, toting his boat like he's taking a walk in the park.

We eventually catch up to him as we enter the start of an old-growth forest preserve. Here, 200-year-old red and white pines tower over the landscape. I'd appreciate them more if I wasn't exhausted, covered with bug bites and cuts, and sweating like a pig.

Krepner says we've gone almost a mile. It took two hours.

We sit on the mossy forest floor and have lunch. I daydream about reaching Gassabias Lake, ripping off my shoes and diving into the cool water. Speaking of water, we're not drinking enough. We fill our canteens in a puddle.

Group holding up

The old growth is high ground, and the trail here is real and level. Krepner says we're entering the home stretch. Patriquin puts on his life vest and, aided by the extra shoulder padding, makes a few heroic canoe carries through the forest. We're cruising now.

But as we leave the old growth, the trail narrows. Now we're in a peat bog. Patriquin and I are carrying our canoe together, end to end, sloshing through a narrow trough of muck. Finally, we decide to untie the canoe's bowline and drag it through the bog like a sled.

At a rest stop, Patriquin walks ahead to scout the route. He comes back at 1:30 p.m. and says he has seen the lake. Soon, I can see water through the windblown trees.

It's anticlimactic. We're all too numb to enjoy this moment.

We reach Krepner, Libby and the dogs, sprawled out near the shore. At least he looks tired. But he says it was a great experience that he had been looking forward to, just to see the route again. And aside from the signs and some modest trail work, not much has changed.

And he puts a positive spin on the situation.

''Heading to the Penobscot River,'' he says, ''it's all downhill from here.''

I say: You're an evil man, Mike Krepner, to make people do this.

But there's no time to joke around. And forget about that cooling swim. Gassabias Lake has 2-foot swells and whitecaps. The wind is gusting, and the sky is threatening. We still have a two-mile paddle across this mess to our car.

As we push off into the wind, I look back with some satisfaction. We have safely completed the Gassabias Portage. And I know I will never do this again.

More stories

Aging craftsmen see uncertain future for legendary canoes Grand Lakers are crafted with a transom for mounting a motor.

Petroglyphs offer intriguing evidence of shamanism Rock carvings found along Grand Lake Stream provide few answers but raise lots of questions about what they mean.

Links to more about canoeing and related subjects on the Internet

Petroglyph links

Images and background on some southwestern petroglyphs.

A close-up of a petroglyph found in Minnesota, plus how and why petroglyphs were left there.

A description of the petroglyphs found in Utah, and their historical importance.

The Computational Science Education Project has a page of colorful petroglyphs, where they were found, and their likely meanings. Links lots of information about "Rock Art", otherwise known as petroglyphs, and U.S.-specific links, mostly from the southwest. A petroglyph photo gallery

Canoeing and birch bark canoes

NativeTech's history of Native American birch bark canoes with directions to make a mini-canoe model

"Arnold Invades Quebec: Canoe-borne attack follows Kennebec, Dead and Chaudiere" is about Colonel Benedict Arnold's birchbark-canoe invasion of Canada, the first amphibious military assault in our nation's history.

From destionation: Maine, an earlier story about canoeing the Eastern Maine Canoe Trail

From destionation: Maine, paddling into the wilderness

From destionation: Maine, paddling merrymeeting bay

From destionation: Maine, paddling near the city

Margaret's Algonquin Park Page has tips for planning a canoe trip.

Canoe and Kayak magazine online

The Paddlers' Web

Chat about paddling in the GORP Paddling Forum

Maine Sportsmen's Guide to river trips

Checklist for canoe campers

Top ten tips for safe canoeing