Two hundred years ago, it helped spread people, ideas and goods across the US. Now, it's become a paddler's paradise with more than 700 miles of continuous, navigable waterways. Inside Lock 11 on the Erie Canal in Amsterdam, New York, the metal-on-metal grinding of gears signalled the closing of the gate behind us.
With our teal kayaks lined up along the walls of the lock – an aquatic "lift" that raises or lowers boats on sections of the canal where water levels are unequal – we looked like a befuddled shiver of sharks. "Is it too late to go back?" the paddler behind me whispered, hands gripping the rope hanging along the wall beside her, as the water began to drain. Ten women and men had come out on a sunny June morning to take part in On the Canals , a state-funded recreational programme along the Erie: the US' most important manmade waterway, which celebrates its bicentennial in 2025.
A voice at the front of the group sang out the opening of the popular American folk tune: "Low bridge, everybody down" / "I've got a mule, and her name is Sal." "Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal!" we shouted back. The front gates opened, and we dug in against the current spilling over Amsterdam's massive movable dam.
I pulled up alongside the nervous kayaker. "What did you think?" I asked. Above the sound of rushing water, she shouted, "I think that was the coolest thing I've ever done.
" For decades after it opened in 1825, upstate New York's 363-mile Erie Canal, which links the city of Bu.