Festina lente

 

Monday, 29^th September.

Woke very early and then went back to sleep – to be woken by the subliminally sensed smell of frying bacon (Pam and Noel blissfully looking after themselves) and the screaming answerphone.  “M. Laramee (Tree feller) can see you today.  Is that OK?”  Of course, we didn’t have his number to ring back and confirm and, by the time I’d found it, he was just arriving!

He took down the moribund Autumn Cherry by the barn and logged that in place, and then two, very sick White Birches, and one of the conifers in the old driveway.  That was not without small adventure…

And then he was gone.  Noel and I did a tour of the house with “What’s where”, in case they take refuge from the skyscraper building that’s happening across their road….
Then Pam and Ali went to walk the tower south of Tremblant, and Noel went with them to sit in the car.

 

 

Meanwhile, I carried the logged remnants of the two birches from the field where they had fallen to the front of the barn.  Phew! 

No palpitations, no pain, just blooming weary!

Ali came home some time after 4.00.  I went in to the village to pay the balance to M. Laramee and came home to make a macaroni salmon.  That was OK.

A simply lovely message from Carole Westwood, whom I had told about the completion of our trip.  Thank you, Carole.

Tuesday, 30^th September.

Slooow start!  But we have collected Moonlight from her place beside the lake, at Yve’s house – and had a chat with Janin and Dianne; removed the roof rack from the car and stored both the rack and the boat in the basement, along with MarRon and Burlesque, pending adventures next year; been to pay Michel Lanthier for the snow removal this winter – nice man; started the reinforcing of the screen room – thwarted by the failure to charge of my spare battery.  But we have the “spine” in place.  Everything else is easy but tricky. 

This young buck came to visit, probably sensing the parsley, temporarily unguarded! 

 

Macaroni salmon again.  Big day tomorrow, but an unbelievably frustrating evening trying to send a Lib Dem email.  Aaaargh!

 

 

Feast!

 

Sunday, 28^th September.

Grace for the last time this year.  A baptism and most of the service, including the sermon, in French.  Which I found a bit difficult to be honest.  But the little family were very happy which is what it’s all about.

 

And then home in a hurry to welcome Pam and Noel before out again for supper at 1939; the end of expedition feast.  Sadly, a number of people were unable to come so we were only 10 in the end, but it was good to make official celebration of the end of our trip  - and trip.

There are some people without whom the trip from Here to the Kids’ place – Chapleau to Roncesvalles - would not have been possible:

Jeremy and Rachel who taught us how to portage and wild camp; 

Ann Dubras, transporter, encourager, rescuer and friend.  Ann, you are much missed; 

Stephen Lisney, Eminence Gris and counsellor on all things paddling and outdoors.  A huge debt of gratitude for years of friendship and support; 

the man at one of the locks on the Rideau canal who said, “You’ll be able to say that you paddled the Rideau in a boat that you built!”; 

Eunice and Jim at Buckhorn, such important folks in those journeys; 

Carol and Frank who let us use their cabin at Clear Lake when we were benighted; 

Ron and Cheryl at Hiawatha1st Nations on Rice lake who brought their golf buggy down to the water’s edge when we were so very tired; 

Karen and Denis, who paddled a big section of the Rouge with us and transported us and have been a constant support; 

David and Rebecca who paddled Brébeuf to Rapides du Diable with us (and quelled the lawn in our absence!); 

David and Denise who made us welcome and guided us through Dog Rapid; 

Turtle, the raft captain at Rafting Nouveau Monde for two brilliant trips; 

Carole Westwood who taught us how to paddle white water – a bit - but, more importantly, how talk to each other in the boat, and elsewhere, too!

And thank you all to countless other people who have been there when we needed them.  The lockmasters; the shop keepers; the B and B hosts; the winemakers; the man who sent his labourer to help me to repair my bike in Bath, outside Kingston on the shore of Lake Ontario; the people who confirmed directions when we were in doubt, and so many more.

To you all; thank you.

Home for champagne and long, long sleep.