A Naturalist’s Wonderland: Exploring Newfound Lake

June 29, 2025

We planned to put in at Grey Rocks Conservation Area in Hebron. The facility was undergoing reconstruction at the time, so parking was limited. We were among the few vehicles that managed to fit in the small area. Many who arrived after us had to park alongside the road. (Early birds get the worm and the parking spaces!) Thankfully, they finished the renovations and had a grand opening in July. You can find more about the area and its stewards, the Newtown Lake Region Association, here. Nearby, another conservation group, the Newfound Center, part of the Audubon Society, is also at work. They have three sanctuaries in the area, two of which have frontage on Newfound Lake. Both organizations are dedicated to protecting the environment, benefiting not just wildlife but also people. This is especially true for those of us who love to recreate outdoors. These places are ecologically managed, which includes responsible public access and use.

On this day, I got to enjoy Newfound Lake by kayak. Another day, I might snowshoe the Audubon trails on Bear Mountain. Others may take a guided boat tour or hike the trails. Some might even fish in the Hebron Marsh. My point is simple: it’s a good thing. I’m reminded of a quote from the founding farmer of Jones Family Farm, LLC in Connecticut: “Be good to the land and the land will be good to you.” Simple, yet profound—and true.

Kayaking Adventure Begins

In keeping with the vigilance of protecting the area, we were greeted by a Lake Host just before the public boat launch. She asked a few questions about where our kayaks had been recently and checked the vessels for dryness and any invasive vegetation or aquatic life. We passed the quick inspection and loaded up, eager to set off through the marshy channel. Immediately, a sense of calm washed over me. The quiet lap of water against the sides of the kayak, the faint whirl of the paddles grazing the surface of the lake, and the multitude of bird and insect sounds created a meditative symphony. The gentle rocking of my body floating with the kayak completed the lulling sensation. A few deep breaths, and I was in full zen.

A few minutes of weaving around the tall grass, and we emerged on the northern side of Newfound Lake. Last year, we paddled right into Hebron Bay, seeing mostly homes, docks, and boats. Everyone waves on the water, but it’s not easy to wave back from a kayak without breaking your stroke. Over the years, I’ve learned to make a well-timed four-finger wiggle with my rising hand, along with a clear nod and smile. I also add an audible greeting to those close by, allowing me to keep moving.

I’ve learned from other boaters (those with motors) that the wave from boat to boat is not just a traditional courtesy. It’s a reassurance that the other captain sees your vessel and that everything is “OK.” When you’re in a kayak, it’s especially important that the operators of motorized boats see you. If I’m ever unsure and one is approaching, I forget about the finger wiggle and lift my paddle horizontally, tilting it from side to side until I’m acknowledged. Although non-motorized boats generally have the right of way, I try to be aware of my surroundings at all times to avoid compromising situations. We all want to continue having fun on the water.

Discovering Loon Island

This day, as we headed out of the channel, we decided to go left. I had often spied a blue house on a small island from North Shore Road while driving and wanted to get a closer look. I later learned it’s called Loon Island. So, towards Sanborn’s Bay we went. Right away, we passed an open space area with a section roped off for swimming. I guessed it belonged to some sort of camp or private association.

Next, we passed a unique stone boathouse with a large home perched high above the ledge. I couldn’t resist snapping a picture of the boathouse. But just ahead, on the right, a better sight awaited us: four loons! This was an unusual sight for us, and we stopped to admire them for a while.

We were near the Newfound Audubon Center, which is mostly wooded. As we rounded the corner, we spotted the home on Loon Island. We continued peering into the woods along the shore, catching glimpses of trails and lookouts here and there. Just before Loon Island, there’s a shallow area coming off the mainland with some exposed rocks forming a point. Intrigued, I decided to go through it instead of around it. I barely squeaked by, having to shimmy my way over the last rock, which my bottom did not quite clear.

At this time, we saw a fully loaded pontoon boat go by around Loon Island. I suspected it was one of the guided boat tours advertised at Grey Rocks. I wasn’t the only one with my sights on Loon Island. We waited for them to move on and then made our approach. We paddled around the island at a respectful distance. There were people outside the home, organizing and cleaning the porch. It was a mundane activity for such an attraction, and they paid us no attention, clearly used to passers-by. Not sure I’d enjoy it, but it has to be expected.

From here on, the natural landscape gave way to development in the form of numerous houses along the shore. An eagle flew overhead and disappeared from my view. I thought it had kept going, but Ronnie could see from his angle that it had perched in a tree at the shoreline up ahead. I was about to stop for a spell and enjoy a plum. Ronnie ignored me, passing by with his gaze fixed on the eagle. I followed him to see what piqued his interest. The eagle was perched high up, but Ronnie managed to silently glide underneath it for a better look and a great picture.

I stayed back, not wanting to upset it. Like the loons, the eagle stuck around for quite a while. We left before it did. Perhaps the wildlife here is used to admirers and does not feel threatened. However, we did meet several fishermen who were not as happy as we were to see these birds. They viewed the loons and eagles as competition.

The Return Journey

We were now at the far end of the bay. I had worn my bathing suit, expecting to take a dip somewhere along the ride. But it had been unseasonably chilly, and although sunny, it was still cool and windy. We decided to head back. There hadn’t been much lake traffic when we started out, but it was now after 12:00 PM, and it had picked up. Still, it was less than I had expected, given all the rain we’d had over the last several months. I figured there would be a lot of people eager to take advantage of a nice, sunny weekend day. Perhaps it was still too early on a Sunday. Just a few jet skis and motorboats were out.

We paddled back faster than when we went out. That’s par for the course, as we are usually more interested in inspecting things at the beginning of our journey. By the end, our thoughts are generally on food and refreshments. We disembarked back at the boat launch and carried the kayaks back to our car. From there, it was off to Odysea Coffee Roasters.

Odysea Coffee Roasters: A Perfect Ending

Expansive is the word to describe both the atmosphere and the offerings at this café. It’s light and airy with high ceilings and exposed beams. The milky white walls and deep brown ceiling match many of the contents of the cups being handed to grateful customers. They serve breakfast and lunch options until early afternoon daily. They open in the evening again for dinner on some nights.

Once you’ve made your selection of food and drink, you can choose from several different seating options, including a bar top. I’ve been here a few times with very pleasing results. The iced coffee went down fast, followed by a melt-in-your-mouth almond croissant after our kayak ride. On a prior visit, I indulged in the house chorizo, egg, and cheese on a bagel with a pomegranate mimosa—definitely a more gluttonous option!

Odysea, 265 Lake Street, Bristol

https://www.odyseacoffee.com/coffeeshop