THE LAKE'S LONG SHADOW. THE NORTHERN SWIMMER. THE RIPPLE YOU CAN’T EXPLAIN.

Somewhere in the 125-mile stretch of Lake Champlain, something stirs. The Abenaki called it Tatoskok — a horned serpent of the deep. Today, it’s known as Champ. And for over 300 years, the lake has been its stage: dark water, quiet wakes, and the occasional long neck rising where no neck should be.

Witnesses report a creature up to 30 feet long, with undulating humps and skin like weathered stone. It doesn’t attack. It doesn’t roar. It just watches. Then it sinks, leaving behind only waves and questions.

From 1600s explorer journals to blurry 1980s photos, Champ has survived time, tourism, and even sonar scans. Is it a prehistoric relic? A biological anomaly? Or something the lake simply holds onto? Either way, the surface isn’t as still as it seems.

You don’t find Champ. You notice you’re being watched — then the water goes still.