The Connecticut River was my route to Shangri-La as a boy. My dad and I would take our 18-foot outboard motor boat across Long Island Sound at its widest part from Mattituck Inlet and follow the river north. There were lovely little side tributaries we'd explore, including Hamburg Cove and a really intriguing unnamed jungle-like stream which somehow left the river and then came back to it, so turning back wasn't necessary.
Gillette Castle, high on a bluff, was always a great landmark to look forward to. And every few miles an automobile bridge or railroad bridge would cross over our heads. The construction of these bridges was always fascinating, as you'd view them from afar before eventually motoring underneath them.
The trip always required an overnight stay on land somewhere, usually with a docking at Wethersfield Marina in Wethersfied Cove. We never would quite make it to Hartford, because my dad said the river wasn't navigable beyond there and our nautical chart ended prior to the capital city.
Now I'm a resident of a small city in Massachusetts which brushes up against the banks of the mighty Connecticut. Mostly a coincidence, except I know that I wanted to live in this region based, in part, on those wonderful youthful excursions.
To this day I get a thrill whenever I cross the river on any of the bridges above Hartford. You see, I can look out the car window and examine what I never got to enjoy while cruising its waters on our boat!
If it were only navigable beyond Hartford, it would be a cinch for that extra star! read more