Friday, 15th September.
And now the nature of the trip changes; until this point, most of our
journey had been flat and wild and lonely - apart from the myriad cottages and
the occasional power boat that is! But now we began the descent down to Trenton - although still
at least four days away - and our lives became dictated by locks and the
availability of lock-staff.
It's the end of the season, traffic is sparse, and lock crews are staffing
more than one lock each. As a result, if you hit a lock - or a string of locks
- "wrong, you can wait for over an hour for the staff to arrive. Add
to that the fact that lock hours have changed to "last lock" at 15.30
weekdays, 16.30 weekends and you can get really thwarted by your inability to
progress.
We moved into a routine of my rising at about 06.00 to make coffee.
After that, Ali would strip the beds and leave them to air. She would
begin the fight with the storage bags.
A diversion. Dry bags. We followed the packing
suggestion described by the Alaska Outdoor
University. In
essence, the waterproof element of the bag is provided by a heavy-duty
(household rubbish compactor) polythene bag; the abrasion resistance by an
outer, woven PVC grain sack (sand bag).
We never tested them for waterproof - but they held air well if you didn't
squash them enough.
We would add two things. We would duplicate the contents label on the
bottom of the bag - the top surfaces wrinkle of course and obscure the label
sometimes. And we would stop re-tying the bag(s) overnight; just
leave them open (apart from the food ones, safe in the critter-proof barrel)
and tie them all in the morning before collecting them into outers for
carrying.
Back to the routine. I'd get out the breakfast and the lunches from
the dry bag in the barrel (if I was really organised, I would have got
out the breakfasts and lunches the night before and so packed the barrel ready
for the day once I'd finished with the supper!). We'd stop to eat
breakfast and then carry on. It was the tent and its damp that held us up
- every time.
So,
Friday. Wherever we were, early morning saw people - mostly men
of a "certain age" - taking to little boats and pushing off to go
fishing. There was a lot of fishing - not too much catching, but a lot of
fishing!
Although it felt like a pretty prompt start, it was still 11.30
before we were away. Folks stopped to chat as we packed up; that's our
excuse, but it's also why we travel!
Healey Falls held the lock for us; a double and
hugely deep, 54 feet in the upper chamber. Sadly, the same readiness was
not true for the next, Crow
Bay, with no easy egress
from the boat because of the steep sides, so we waited an hour in the
sun. Sore bums x2.
To Campbellford, at the end of a long cut with a hydroelectric
("Hydro" - which is also the word used for electricity, and its
supply. e.g. "There's hydro available at each pitch".) dam
alongside. This was the ultimate example of inaccessibility from a
canoe. The concrete walls were so high that I had to re-visit my
"upwards bellyflop" to get out, and access in the morning involved a
rather precarious water entry from the sloping banks of the cut. But we
did get better at this - we had to!
It proved to be a lovely site. Dog walkers came past us morning and
evening with water-enthusiastic Labrador
crosses; the weather had warmed up a bit - back to the quilt (with the bags
rolled alongside us "just in case".)
13km
Saturday, 16th September
A flurry ( nothing on the waterway can really be described as a
"flurry", but you get what I mean) of locks. 4km to Ranney Falls,
another 2.3km to Hague's Reach, 1.8km to Mayers another 1.8 km to Percy
Reach. It was a short paddle, but a long day because of the locks.
We raced to catch up with other boats coming to Hague's but were less
enthusiastic about our efforts to Mayers; they still kept the lock for us!
A couple of things about locks. The gates above the lock close against a "step". That supports them at their lower end. It's pretty imporant to "latch on" - not tie on, that has its own problems! - in front of that.
Secondly, bumpers or fenders are, I beg to suggest, an essential for locking.
We arrived at Percy Reach between 15.00 and 15.30 but having descended the
lock, there was no point in going further, as further was 20+ km! But
this was a lovely lock to stay at, with families fishing all evening.
Don, the lock master, was a former loadmaster in the RCAF. He hurried to
help us ashore, dropped his sun-glasses in the water ( :-( ) and told us
that he thought we must be of the same profession given the way we had packed
the canoe!
A random Banded Tussock Moth caterpillar presented itself on my knapsack, slowing the unpacking. We had a bit of time off; just as well, I noticed that one of the sections
of tent pole had split and I spent an age, sitting in the sun, wrapping it in a long splice and then
duct tape!
Warmer now - using the quilt not the bags.
11km
Sunday, 17th September
Early morning, a very thick mist; the climb all the way up the steps to the
washrooms. A fisherman took a good catch right in front of the lock
gates, just as I slipped and grazed my knee! Silly me. Still, never
travel without a first aid kit; iodine's the stuff. (reminded me of the French
love of coloured surface antiseptics!).
We decided that we just had to get away promptly today so we went for a
"damp" tent pack, despite efforts to clear condensation inside and outside the tent, and made it away by 11.00 am.
The 5 km stop - and a mute swan, an immigrant to Canada :-)
We had a
wonderful paddle through the "Back Channel", narrow and shallow in
places, full of wildlife, much smaller, older and less opulent cottages.
Tempers were more frayed today; tiredness, a bit of hypoglycaemia perhaps,
the persistent problem of the seat. Ali checked how I was sitting at one
point - almost ON the point, of the canoe that is.
At 15 km I called halt I'm afraid. We headed for a dock, regardless of
any occupants, and crashed out. Ali had been saving a (melted and
re-formed) bar of chocolate for Guy in Toronto.
It was consumed I'm afraid. Greater love hath no man....
A water loving collie arrived and insisted on playing with us - thanks pal!
Once we'd re-joined the main channel we hoisted the sail for a little but
dropped it when a moron in a BIG speed boat arrived and carved a huge circle
around us. Perhaps he was the chap who used to pull the wings off flies
in school?
But arriving at Glen Ross was wonderful. Hugely helpful staff, we
snugged Burlesque in the lock for the night, having unloaded between the swing
bridge and the lock gate. As promised at Percy's reach - HUGE ice-creams
were available at the lock-side cabin. No supper for us, but there's always the route to plan...... The pole repair was holding up - sort of!
19.7km
Monday, 18th September
I was again in a grump - why? Ali was hurting (her back). We
locked down at Glenn Ross at 10.15 and loaded and were away by 11.15. We
took a lovely meander through back creeks; great.
Then it was a long pull
down a long and tedious cut to Frankford Lock. Here we had been promised
showers and nternet and all sorts of delights. The showers existed it's
true - but on an adjacent family site. I took advantage but, by the time I
had returned, so had the lock staff and we had to be on our way.
But the Lockmaster of Trent - the next lock - was passing us
through and he offered Ali the use of the staff shower in Trent.
True to his word we set up camp and Ali took advantage. Thank you!
And so we called for a taxi and were driven (a surprisingly long way)
up to Buckford to collect the car. We had a truly excellent pizza in
Pizza Allora there and drove back gently in the dark.
Bedtime was noted for the frantic "hunt the medicines" (mine)
competition - again!
12km
Tuesday 19th September
We made an early, unladen start following an uncommunicative motor launch
driver through the lock. I sat on my filled clothes bag, further forward, a little too low
but vastly more comfortable. We offered to let the power boat go ahead
but that wasn't the way the locking worked out so, although we did our best to
keep up, they waited for us at Batawa, Glen Miller and Sidney locks.
We'd noticed
zebra mussels in the locks for a while; as the water level
goes down, they "spit", presumably to equalise interior
pressure. It's like being rained on!
And then, at last, the last lake above Lock 1, where we had finished our trip last year. We headed for the west bank where we had been told there was a litle beach for a take- out. True to promise, there it was.
Now it was Ali's turn to fall over. We duly loaded the canoe on the trailer, pushed it along the road past bemused canal maintenance staff, and parked it in front of the lock house.
Finished!
I taxied back to Trent Lock, collected the car, drove to Lock 1. We loaded the canoe and returned to Trent for the last overnight. It was so hot in the tent! More showers (thank you Master!) and I got lost on the way to LCBO in Frankford. The beer tasted good :-)
We loved our stay here, despite the road noise from across the river. The charmng, former Lockmaster's cottage was a perfect retreat, the washrooms wonderful, the architecture period (1920's) and the Morning Glory fabulous.
7.41km
Wednesday, 20th September
We packed easily - essentially, "stuff it in the car". Another damp tent pack, finished just in time to bid farewell to the Lock-Master.
To Kingston, passing the Ramada, where we stayed at the end of last year's trip, on the way. We met up with Ann Dubras in her smart, waterside apartment. She seems well, much better than when we say her in the Spring. She gave us a lovely lunch - thanks, Ann.
Ali took pictures of the old Penitentiary - having read a novel based there I believe - then up the 15, through Smith's Falls, to a traffic jam all along the south side of Ottawa, to the ferry at Rockbridge - and home!
Wow!
