The Francis Walter Dam sits just south of the confluence of the Lehigh River and Bear Creek, a towering arc of concrete that holds back the waters in a two-armed lake that lies over flooded hillsides, lined with thick forest. Although I’ve kayaked many artificial lakes – in truth, it sometimes feels like most of the lakes in the northeast were artificially created – there is something about Francis Walter that’s unique.
The shoreline is composed almost entirely of bedrock chunks, often to steep to allow for a landing, with sheer drops down into the dark water. As you move farther from the dam, up either of the two arms, the shoreline does eventually become less rugged, with some small gravel beaches or grassy areas.
I have paddled up both arms as far as possible, where the lake transitions back to river or creek and becomes too shallow, with too strong a current, to continue. Those are my favorite parts, distant and quiet, where I am usually alone with the landscape and a mix of herons or ducks or even eagles.
At the same time, visits here always put me on edge. I think it’s the dam, and the boat launch off a sunken road right by the tower. The immensity of the dam and the tower rising overhead is unsettling, and it is accented and underscored by the rumble of the dam itself, as water passes through. It’s a vibration as much as a sound, and it rattles through the landscape and echoes far back into the arms, making it difficult to escape. Maybe it’s infrasound, or just my own imagination, but that rumble leaves me anxious, and can make it difficult to truly enjoy a visit to these waters, even on a lovely autumn evening.