"From Kingston, Ontario".
"How long has it taken you?"
"Just over a year!"
Friday, 4th September. Aylmer, Quebec; been in about 3 hours now. A shower, a beer (and a cup of tea!) and a quick catch up with the post and here we are.
On
Sunday last, the 30th, we travelled to Arundel for church. The previous, warm welcome and then away to Aylmer to stay with P & N overnight at their house here. Warm; the air heavy with the scent of a transient skunk. A delicious supper; slightly distracted by the prospect ahead.
Isn't it strange how phrases get in to your head? On an open canoe chat-room, there was a long-running conversation regarding additional buoyancy in canoes. I (meaning to be ironical) said that we were off to finish paddling the Rideau "with air-bags fitted". I was challenged by a subscriber: "
Sorry, but if you're using air-bags on the Rideau Canal, PLEASE don't go north & paddle the backcountry. Really."
Those words haunted me for two whole days. Had I been too foolhardy last year and put us at real risk? Was I overcompensating this year? And, drat it!, who's trip was it anyway? But the words went around and around my head - until Long Island Locks - where I met a Canadian who put it all in context.
Monday, 31st August. A leisurely start to the day; some commissions at Jean Cocteau then with P and N to Burritts Rapids - the scene of our bail-out last year. Our aim, Ottawa; our route, day one..... to Rideau Hill Camp.
We pitched tent on the road side of the lock this year - last year we limped in to the river side.
And then we headed over to the restaurant for a light something or other before P and N left us. A stroll along the island and these views...
.... before coming back to the restaurant for supper, a good night's sleep (despite the all-night generator at the cafe and the occasional car passing along the road), and a very misty start.
Tuesday, 1st September. Pinch, punch! Where did August go?
I have a clear memory of early anglers in the fog before sunrise, and then tie to pack and off we go!
The countryside here is low, flat fields shielded by screens of trees. It was good to be back on the river, in our own world of me and her; just padding; letting the yards go by.
We stopped at Beckett's Landing for a drink, a snack and a rest. Nobody came, and nobody went. And some of us perhaps snored - briefly!
The Long Reach - Burritts to Black Rapids - is rightly named. There was no way that we could have paddled it all in one day.
Further on it began to be populated by large houses - with sweeping lawns. Impressive enough (but nothing compared with what we would come across later!)
So we had reconnoitred during the Fall and contacted the United Church regarding the possibility of spending our first night at their Kids' Camp at Rideau Hill, just North of the Baxter Park; a long haul this; and then! And then perhaps the most incongruous, welcome sight of the whole trip - a floating ice-cream - Float! There, in the middle of the river, was a converted pontoon boat - selling ice-cream..... I mean; how can you resist?
Fortified by two cones (how do you eat a cone in the middle of a river, vaguely trying to stabilise a canoe?) we pressed on the last klick or so to the camp-site.
A delightful, if rather mosquito-favoured - haven at the end of a long day. A new ritual developed at this point; cups of tea - lemon or Earl Grey, depending - once the tent was up and before the main meal was prepared. Just so!
It was really buggy here - and not just mosquitoes! But it was a welcome haven and, we were grateful for the welcome, for the lights left on at the loos and for the warm water at the showers by the pool. Thanks!
21.4 k.
Wednesday, 2nd September.
After another foggy dawn, today, the rest of the run to Long Island Locks; a two stops day.
First, to an improbable marina on the west bank at or after (we never did find the settlement) Kars.
Met by a man who could only have come out of an Evelyn Waugh novel, faced across the river by a re-incarnation of the African Queen, this delightful, spotless, piratically themed rest-stop offered cold drinks, a freezer full of B-B-Q food, a double shower (!) seating and a very "shiver me timbers" welcome. Another time, I think we'd stop here, if only for the fun of it!
The river-sides became lined with grander and grander houses; if anyone asked me what the prevailing sound of the Rideau Canal was, I'd have to say lawn-mowers. Some of these houses had lawns of well over an acre - all trimmed within an inch of their lives! I stopped taking pictures of mansions - they were VAST. Think Thames-side on steroids - and then some.
Second stop - luxury this - Kelley's Landing for a late lunch; with ladies who lunch - obviously often! A very, very nicely cooked yellow-fin tuna steak on a
Salade Nicoise, and an accessory dish of panko crumbed calamari - with copious lemonade - went down a surprising treat! (as did a hot lobster, crab and shrimp dip followed by a Caesar Salad). Fine dining with your boat at the dock!
But simpler fare followed; a charming, peaceful lay-over at Long Island locks; balm to the soul - and a chorus of cigales so intense that it sounded like a gas-leak.
19.3 k.
A magnificent thunderstorm, drifting south from Ottawa, couldn't keep us awake, or break through the tent. Hooray for Vango!
Thursday, 3rd September. Long Island Locks to Hartwell's lock.
A very damp start; foggy first thing and then clearing. We discovered that using a tea-towel to wipe both the inside and the outside of the tent optimised drying. Simple for some but new to us! Things have changed since being afraid of disturbing the proofing by touching the inside of a wet tent......
In fact, the day cleared to bright, bright sun, fortunately with a change of wind to the North - right on the nose but very welcome.
In the lock, one of the staff chatted to us, knowledgeably, about stitch and tape boats - which ours is. We spoke of our designer, Paul Fisher, of his helpfulness to us on a number of occasions, and then of our thoughts for further trips.
But above all, he said, "you might need a bigger boat for the Trent-Severn; its a working waterway". This is only 32" wide" I replied, "Tippy", he said, "but the romance of the whole thing; You have built your own boat and paddled - or will have paddled - the Rideau. My Congratulations to you."
In one phrase, I was justified! Justified in my continuing instability in our lovely boat; justified in our pride at what we had done. Justified in believing that Canada is a country that not only makes such trips possible, it makes them understandable.
We paddled right under the flight path for Ottawa airport; and right under all the mid-day arrivals! Lunch-time at a really laid-back Black-Rapids lock was met with advice to avoid camping at Hog's Back - because of the noise - and to go on to Hartwells' instead. Seemed reasonable.
At Hog's Back we found and paid due deference to the Rideau Canoe Club-house at the entrance to Hog's Back locks. I don't know that anyone noticed....
And so we pressed on to Hartwell's Lock. We'd left the river now and were completely in engineered water. But it was remarkably pleasant with cyclists and pedestrians and roller-bladers skimming along Colonel By drive, and no-one else on the water.
Hartwell's Lock is right adjacent to Carleton University campus; it was Fresher's' week. There were many barbecues on our side of the water, but first year students in Canada are 17 - unable to drink alcohol - so events were much quieter than they might have been and only the discotheque kept us awake after dark.
The canal was warm and clear to rinse tired feet in.
The lock wash-rooms were accidentally closed, so we pretended to be students and used the facilities in the Canal building of the University!
16.3k
Friday, 4th September. Hartwell's Lock to
Parc Plaisance Jaques Cartier - Quebec.
Such a glorious day. suntan cream on; a northerly wind to keep us cool, cyclists, pedestrians and joggers to greet and salute us like a welcome party. Canadians just seem to be friendly people.
And then at last, the view we have looked forward to for such a long time; Fairmont Chateau Laurier and the bridges to the Ottawa flight of locks. There was a catch in the voice of each of us, I'll tell you.
The step down was a long-drawn, contemplative pattern of latch on, cast off, paddle, latch on, cast off....
And then we were free. Released from the stricture of the water-way, welcome and reassuring as it had been, to face the new frisson of the Ottawa River.
Well, we had had wonderful advice from Stephen, Max, Beckie, the Lock-Masters and others. We struck out for the far shore, following at first the boat we had come down with. A river-trip boat appeared; we rode the wake. A power-boat arrived, hurrying to catch the lock behind us and trailing a real wake; we got wet! For the first time since Murphy's Bay - a year and a long way ago, we had water on board!
We pulled then for the North Shore, bounced and pushed through the wind against (very little) tide chop and made landing at the slipway at Parc Jaques Cartier.
Job done.
Big smiles.
Hartwell's to Parc Jacques Cartier -
7.5 k
Kingston to Ottawa - 203km
A busy day yesterday, Wednesday the 7th October. All the usual tidying and cleaning, but over a longer period than usual since K and D came up to collect us during the afternoon, instead of the usual 13.00 same-day as the flight arrangement.
