Getting on with it

Thursday, 28th September

It has definitely gone chilly!

We've been cleaning and tidying a bit; not a lot to report about today!

But we decided to go for a stroll in the afternoon.  Up through the trail and along the old chemin des Mauves in the wood behind.  The little swamps that are at the back of our lot are looking very wet for late summer.  If they were the only piece of land that we had to manage, we could make them quite pretty; as it is.....





Down the road, the beavers have been busy felling birch shoots! And at least one tree.  This tree was about a foot (30cm) across!








Friday, 29th September

RIGHT, time for some tree-felling action ourselves.  A tree came down at the entrance to the little cabin drive earlier n the year.  It was broken at about 7 feet up an quite substantial.  But it was hanging by a thread and so looked to be an issue for felling.  But first, to get the quad started.  The battery was flat and so I had to charge that up; it's very reminiscent of the Flanders and Swan song!

In the end, by gradually cutting and shortening the multipod of branches supporting its crown, we cleared it away and the main trunk came down.  Now the quad started straight away and we collected the little trailer and began to cart logs and branches.

And then we carted last year's split logs down to the basement ready for the snow.  And then Michel came to visit; he's packing up and heading for France in November.  His house still isn't sold.

We had liver and onions for supper - heartening food.  And I have to admit that I fell asleep for about two hours after that before we headed for bed!  Shameful!

Water!

Tuesday, 26th September.

The water - which I had run until the well emptied yesterday - was cleaner, but not yet clean.  Fortunately, we had filled two of these boxes with clean water on Monday morning so we were OK for washing and cooking - and for flushing the loo, we could use the sandy stuff. 

But the day dragged a bit - it was very hot, forecast the last of the heat until next week.

So, once it had backed off a bit, I went fishing; very small baits, about an inch long.  Eureka!  3 Small Mouth Bass, 2 Large Mouth Bass.  None of them would have made a meal on its own so each went back.  Had I kept all five, we would have had a feast!

Dark by 7.00 pm.

Wednesday, 27th September.

The water ran clear this morning, so I reconnected it to the house.  Yippee!

We found out how to remove the windows from the screen room to clean them; thy've become very dusty.  It made a great difference - until the clouds gathered and the solar lights came on.  We rushed to pull the laundry off the line and "Crrrraaaack", a clap of thunder presaged a tremendous downpour - it got worse than this, you couldn't see across the meadow.  Trees, whole trees, swayed in the wind.  And twenty minute later, it was gone.

Moonlight now, but definitely cooler.  We have been sleeping with the screened windows wide open for the last few nights.

Getting back to normal!

.. well, as normal as anything is around here!

Saturday, 23rd September

The highlight of the social year, the apple pressing at Mark and Janis'.  We met many - not all - of the old crew and a new couple, Ted and Ingrid.  Surprise, surprise, Ted was a microbiologist who taught dental students in Toronto for many years and whose brother lives in - Nailsea!

Talk about a small world.

Denis took the pontoon round the lake.


















Sunday, 24th September.

Church in Arundel - lovely.  I've been asked to lead worship in two weeks' time...  And we're going to make food for the supper the Saturday evening before






Then to Brebeuf to try to find an exit for the canoe in the trip down the Rouge......  It was very hot indeed.













Monday, 25th September

The well pump man came early .  Again!  Ah well, the work was done carefully and methodically.  It is guaranteed for 5 years - no question.  There is an O ring that fits within the pit-valve that is probably imperial size.  Here's a schematic of what our set-up is.


And I photographed and measured our present O ring.  I shall leave a copy of the photo by the pump.




We drew two large boxes of water out on the deck - the water is now running cloudy from the pump - it'll have to settle.  But the tank is recharging in sensible order!

I've updated everything now - one report has somehow got out of sequence but hey!

Back home....

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!

Stunned!

Thursday, 21st September

We stayed up very late on Wednesday night - and were late and lethargic on Thursday as a result.

The day started well; the speedometer on the car - which had been stuck below the rest-spike ever since leaving lock 5 for the LCBO - succumbed to the very simple procedure outlined on YouTube.  What would we do without the internet?  Pay larger garage bills I expect!  It now works.

But the house water-pump doesn't; at least not very well. I checked the cut-in and cut-off pressures on the new switch - 50 and 30 psi respectively; fine.  Then I drained down the tank and checked the internal bladder pressure - undetectable.  So I got out the car tyre-pump and started trying to re-inflate the bladder.  After 10 minutes - nothing.

A visit to Claude was called for to borrow his compressed air cylinder and to chat generally and about the pump. We are agreed that all is not well.

I brought the bladder pressure up to 28psi and turned everything on again.  But the tank fills really slowly - and we have a mountain of washing to do!  I left an overnight email for Denis - he has recently had a new well drilled at the house in Tremblant - for a recommendation for someone to help.

We got the boat off the car – it clearly has two cracked ribs – and emptied the luggage.  The house is full down-stairs!
We’re trying to stick to a reduced calorie intake, having done so during the trip.  We had similar breakfast and lunch and a light supper.  Latish to bed again.

Friday, 22^nd September.

Denis came good with the recommendation – he’d already contacted someone for us by 08.00 and a very pleasant young man came to visit us whilst we were still in pyjamas…..  It seems that we have the original pump from when the house was built.  It will need to come out.  Dire warnings about the possibility of its being stuck and the need for a new well; we’ll hope for the best.  He’ll come on Monday afternoon to do the work.  Meanwhile, Ali does the laundry in stages determined by the tank’s needing to be reset as it runs out of water!

Lovely Skype chats with both Bryony and Ginny; we miss you, too guys.

I cut all the lawns in case an American President wants to come to play golf (bad joke!), and then I went fishing.  Gloriously still on the water; one small, Small-mouth Bass.  Something has changed this year for sure!

I fell asleep in the Lazyboy – back to normal then.  Huh!

Saddle sore!

Tuesday, 12^th September.

Morning was bright and fresh, the sun soon dried my shorts which the fire had begun overnight .

As we moved down the river towards Rice Lake, the low-lying ground on either side was still in the mid-day heat.  A frantic series of "plops" echoed across the water as basking turtles threw themsleves off  their sun-baked logs.

There were more power boats, many of them were courteous and slowed down to reduce their wake; some were frankly dangerous.  One post-prandial driver even seemed to head straight for us, swerving away at speed at about 20 m distance!  Another charged up to us only to falter and then the lady of the operations spent time crawling around the rear deck looking for a problem before charging off again.  You know who you are!



We took refuge on another dock for lunch.

And all this in sunshine!  I’d forgotten to mention how good the weather had become.  Although it was becoming warm to very warm during the day, you can see that the overnight temperatures had been definitely chilly!

But down the Otonabe river to Rice Lake it was very warm indeed!

Gradually the river-side trees thinned and then we were in the main channel, ready to turn East at last in to the fabled and fearsome Rice Lake.  This piece of water is long; it lies roughly South-west to North-east – in line with the prevailing wind – and is pretty shallow.  So you can very rapidly get a steep “sea”, at which time the advice is to get off the water.  But the lake is heavily lined by reed-beds so where to get off to?  In all our conversations about the waterway, we’ve repeatedly heard rumour of three lakes to be aware of; Superior (not going there!), Simcoe (North of Toronto; might go there) and Rice.  And we planned to be on Rice for part of three days – plenty of time for it to change…..

But right now, it was a pussy-cat; smooth and glassy and shimmering under a hot sun.

I’d contacted three resorts on the way up; Hiawatha First Nations was the first.  We rang ahead and were told to look out for the church, the administration building was between it and the waterfront.  I was so courteously met and dealt with and a phone call was put through to Carol at the Camping and Trailer park – along the bay.  Sure enough, we saw her waiting in her golf buggy from way out, but missed the landing and had to turn out in to the lake – across the waves – to round a little point.  

Wooah!

We fought to turn across and into the waves and then to run before them to the sheltered beach.  And that was on a calm afternoon!

Carol was another of those angels on this trip; Ron and Cheryl, Carol and Frank, a couple who held our mooring lines and we belly-flopped up out of the boat on a very high lock-side; countless lock-staff who went out of their way(s) to hold locks for us, to help us load and unload the boat up steep banks, the taxi-driver in Peterborough….  Everywhere we went, we met people with wings.

Carol’s particular angelic manifestation was her golf-buggy which she loaded up with our possessions – twice – to cart them up to the camp-site.  Never has a lift been more welcome.

The site was flat, open and with a lovely view to the south-west; the showers needed shoes, to avoid the myriad dead flies, but were free and hot; the Old Railway Station stores sold me a tin-opener, and let me have purified water the next morning.  We slept well.

15.8km

Wednesday, 13^th September.

We spent a lovely day on Rice Lake.  Carol and Frank once again turned up to transport our goods down to the beach.  She came from Bognor U.K. when she was 4 years old.  Her Dad met her mum there; he was “an Indian” so she identifies and English and First Nations (FN).  Before I knew this I asked – since she had said where she had come from – whether she had much contact with the FN.  She told me a little of the abuse she’d heard and seen in her lifetime.  Shameful. But Canada is trying hard – in part – to do the right thing.  I’m not sure that the same can be said of their southern neighbours.

Out on the lake, we met sun and fluffy clouds and a gentle westerly breeze; high of 24 degrees.  We managed some sailing, dodging between islands and reed beds.  On an island just off  Elmhirst's resort we took "seat-refuge" in a bush.  It very much looked like a mulberry.  Ali tried to photograph the fluffy, white caterpillars, some of which flung themselves off the bush and into the water!  An osprey screamed from a spreading pine further along.At the end of the day, we overshot the Dreamland resort and had to paddle back by about 1km.  But all was well; we had a waterside plot, so close to the river level that we were almost in danger of inundation by the waves from an expert water-skier across the way.  I cooked a corned-beef and noodle dish; it sort of worked…….

There were geese all around; not close but calling and flying and calling….  The air was full of the sound of geese and the smell of manure from the adjacent farm!

We were very tired.  We had a fit of hysterics at bed-time when I couldn’t find the underpants that I had only just got out for the next day.  Silly how little things set you off; we laughed so much that it hurt!

22.8 km (plus 1 km overshoot).

Thursday, 14^th September.

A long day again; a 2 Litre of water day.  The route was fairy depressingly straight for 8 km after the lock at Hastings - our first since Ashburnham on Friday evening – where we had got cash, visited an ATM and bought ice-creams as well as something, forgotten now, that we thought to be essential at the time….

The war memorial was humbling; this is not a big place!

Another, borrowed jetty at about 15km.

We think this is an egret;  We eventually found our way to Red Setter resort, needing to dodge stumps and flooded marshes by the end.  A bit of a tired resort but a great welcome from the owner, a Portuguese lady.  We pitched camp close to the water, made our way to the laundrette, the rather ancient washroom and the store respectively, and crashed out.

21.4km

I wrote at the time:   

Saddle sore!

Red Setter resort, East of Hastings ON.

Rice Lake, all three days of it, was a pussy cat.  Coming down the Otonabe river gave us a bit of grief - one post-prandial boater aimed straight for us at speed! And the lake itself showed a little of its power as we turned to land at Hiawatha first nations, where a wonderful camp guardian on a golf buggy helped us up with the luggage!

About 21km that day.  Then island and swamp dodging up to Dreamlands resort, another huge trip.

Now at Red Setter, strangely populated by Weimerana crosses, not Setters at all.  And Rice Lake, known for its steep chop, was like glass all the way.  Hot today 26 / 7 degrees.  Still warm now at 22.15! 

 

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 important 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 internet 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 Buckhorn 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, un-laden 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 little 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!

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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 charming, 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 saw 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!