Rideau Trip, July 22-30, 2006

(Journal Recorded by Scott Clark)

Sat., July 22, 9:05 P.M.
We are camped at Upper Brewer's Locks where we began our trip today. At Ray's suggestion we decided to leave our gear here, paddle south to Lower Brewer's Locks and back, then set up camp here for the night. With intermittent sprinkles and a lack of good camping north towards Seeley's Bay (experience from our 2001 trip), this seemed like a wise course of action.

Since we are down to six paddlers (Ray, Jean, Sheila, Terry, Jim, and myself), I also had to cook a supper in addition to being responsible for breakfasts and lunches. Tonight was my turn with salad, tortellini, broccoli, and southwest  turkey chunks finished off with an apple pie. Even Jim ate dessert for a change.

We arrived here early (1:00 P.M.) after an early start (6:00 A.M. from Massachusetts). That was an advantage of choosing a destination just a few miles north of the Canadian border I'm writing my journal from inside my tent, something I have never done before. However, the rain showers plus mosquitoes drove me to bed early, but I can write here with the aid of my new Petzel headlamp. Ray just noted that we had no campfire, an omission we all immediately blamed on Richie the "absent" who has abandoned us to go to Philmont Scout Ranch this week.

After such an early start I hear slumber calling to me.

Sunday, July 23, 7:55 P.M.
Rat Island in Milbary Bay on Dog Lake is our home for this evening. Ah, what a marvelous day it has been. The sun shone brightly, the breeze was light, the lakes endless, and the scenery spectacular as we paddled the Rideau.

As I write Jim just hauled in his third sizeable fish in an hour, a largemouth bass and two crappies. He has redeemed himself as a mighty fisherman. No longer can we scoff at his abilities, and he did all this using plastic worms!

This morning we paddled "canal north" out of Upper Brewer's Locks into Cranberry and Dog Lakes, long narrow bodies of water with miles of ragged shoreline. Away from the canal proper we enjoyed solitude, for the most part, from power boats and other people. For companionship we had each other and great blue herons. At night we are serenaded by the loons.

Finding a suitable campsite proved to be a challenge today. Much of the shoreline was covered in forest and dense scrub brush, and the good spots all had houses. We finally found a very pleasant island with level tent sites, grass, and large expanses of flat rock. It affords us sweeping views of the lake and nearby shores.

Jean has us all filled with her traditional quinoa, chicken, peppers, and sun-dried tomatoes polished off with her favorite cookies, ginger snaps. Everyone is now lazily relaxing as they read, fish, or just enjoy the view. This is what a canoe trip should be like.

Monday, July 24, 9:55 P.M.
I'm writing in my tent again as supper was ready earlier just as I started to write. He who hesitates goes hungry with this ravenous crew. Now the mosquitoes are fierce outside, not a significant factor until dusk. Even our campfire failed to deter them.

Terry treated us to his famous beef stroganoff tonight preceded by cream of broccoli soup. We certainly eat well with everyone taking a night to cook his or her specialty. The incentive for Terry to be tonight's chef was the presence of a picnic table, a luxury compared to our usual overturned canoe. We are at a commercial camp at the northwest end of Dog Lake as there were no suitable undeveloped campsites during our entire afternoon of paddling. Most of the shoreline here was high rocks and heavy forest cover, very scenic but not very hospitable. Again there were nice homes tucked into the "good" spots. At least our topographic maps indicated this commercial campground and saved us from worrying.

The wind was very strong all afternoon, blowing from the southeast directly up the lake. Since it was often at our backs it was not a real problem except when we had to cross open water broadside to it. Then, of course, waves gave us a rollicking good ride. Tomorrow as we head south we all hope we won't have to paddle into such a strong wind.

A rare camping-canoeing experience is the great cell phone coverage here in the Rideau. We have been able to call our spouses every night we choose. Hearing from home is always a treat for most of us.

Tuesday, July 25, 5:40 P.M.
We are ensconced on Gump's Island, a choice piece of real estate with a 180 degree view from the point where we set up our cooking area. We arrived here early at 2:45 P.M. after a tour of Crane's Nest Lake, back out into Dog Lake, an arduous paddle down there into a very stiff wind, and finally finding welcome respite on this island. We were all ready for an early stop and this refuge is large, has good tent sites, a stone fire ring, a clothesline, two useable chairs, a swing, and even a table. What more could one want? We may never pry Jim out of his chair.

The day has been hot but a dip in the lake and the ever present wind have made it comfortable. Is this cooling effect the proverbial "silver lining" to this perverse wind?

Sheila has just started our supper of noodles, ham, and peas with vanilla pudding for dessert. The pudding is from Jim’s future meal because it is too windy for Sheila to bake tonight with our makeshift stove. We will need all these calories to power us up for tomorrow's paddle. Since we will be heading north the wind, though, will be at our backs. At one point today we were bounding over what seemed like huge waves that gave the bow paddlers a wild ride. Jean summed it all up by waving her paddle in the air and shouting "yahoo" every time she bounded particularly high.

The scenery continues to be spectacular, providing us photographers (Ray, Terry, and me) with countless opportunities. A shot of us on the water would be nice but we are too busy controlling our canoes to get out an expensive camera and risk getting it wet. Canoeing photos will have to wait for a calmer day.

Wednesday, July 26, 8:45 P.M.
We are in a "passable" small site at the south end of Whitefish Lake west of Squaw Point. Ray has noted all of our campsites on the maps for possible future reference. We had a long paddle today and it appeared to be a choice between here or another four and a half kilometers straight through to Jones Falls Locks where we could camp. Our tents are crowded together but this site works, even having a fire pit and log seats. We are used to peace and quiet, but here we are on a narrow part of the main channel with considerable boat traffic that lasted until dark.

It is a very warm, humid evening and our breeze has died. It is hot just sitting still. Fortunately the mosquitoes are not too bad (yet). An afternoon stop at Seeley's Bay was a welcome opportunity to purchase ice cream, juice, soda, ice, and beer. Our crew paddled away refreshed. We even availed ourselves of the luxury of flush toilets.

This evening Jim cooked his world renowned kielbasa, pierogi, sauerkraut with apples, tomato soup, and caraway seeds. Sheila baked us a cinnamon-apple cake, a new experience for her. Now we are all turning in as darkness falls and the inevitable mosquitoes come out. Are they the result of the unusually wet weather this spring and early summer? Certainly the lakes are very high as a consequence.

Thursday, July 27, 5:45 P.M.
We are all relaxing at Jones Falls Locks, having arrived here at 2:30. After a fast but hot and arduous portage of our gear around the first three locks (60 feet of elevation for all four locks) we relaxed  with a cooling swim in a deep pool where one can jump off the wall and be instantly over one's head. We will camp here on the lawn tonight in relative comfort although we will miss the isolation of our wilderness campsites. Of course we will be consoled by going out to dinner at the Kenney Hotel across the bridge where we have reservations for 7:15.  Today's paddle was the most scenic yet as we toured Morton's Bay on Whitefish Lake. Like Crane's Nest Lake but even better, it was bordered all down one side by high rock cliffs, almost resembling a fjord in places.

We also had a show here as a flotilla of boats went downstream through this series of locks. The process has a fascination for viewers as if we were watching a water ballet. The "dancers" in this case are very expensive power boats costumed in bikini clad women and choreographed by the lockmaster and his assistants

We have discussed possible routes for our remaining two days on the water. Our Rideau trip has been marked by clear weather  with only brief sprinkles the first afternoon and early this morning. May it continue thus.

Friday, July 28, 6:35 P.M.
After a rainy, drizzly start to the day the weather cleared and the sun came out. All day it has been so warm that no one wanted a rain jacket, and a swim in the lake this afternoon cooled us off nicely. Once more we are camped on an island, this time a spot that was formerly a guide's day area, Steele Briggs Island in Murphy's Bay. The lack of maintenance makes it clear that no guides have used it for years, but there is an outhouse and clear areas for tents.

As I write the usual nonsense is going on. Sheila politely asked Terry to get off the cooler, we corrected her on how to really tell him to get off, and Ray demonstrated by knocking Terry off. Sheila (the "delicate flower") ruined the whole effect by apologizing to Terry and offering to help him up. She suffers from terminal niceness.

Ray just called us with the five minute warning for supper, his gourmet Amatriciana, a spaghetti, crushed tomatoes, red wine, onion, bacon, and parmesan cheese dish. For dessert he has Le Petit Ecolier dark chocolate cookies.

This afternoon we arrived here early, set up camp, and had the afternoon to "recreate" as each one of us saw fit. Ray and I paddled around a few islands, Jean and Sheila paddled to the Opinicon Resort Hotel and Museum, Terry read, and Jim relaxed and fished from shore.

We have no cell phone signal to call home but we do have our island paradise, the sun just above the horizon, and the waves hypnotically lapping the shore. Only canoes could transport us to this state.

Sunday, July 30
Our trip is over. During the night Friday Jim and I awoke to a deer snorting as he investigated our campsite. He must have been marooned on the island when the ice went out last winter. Saturday we were out early, on the water by 9:15 A.M. A short paddle took us through Chaffey's Locks into Indian Lake. We moved on through Clear Lake and Newboro Lake to our takeout at Newboro Locks. Once more there were countless islands and miles of shoreline to explore. Altogether on this trip we explored eleven lakes, navigating the entire shoreline of most. We have gone nowhere and been everywhere.

At breakfast Saturday we discovered that we had left our griddle behind Friday in our portage around Davis Lock. That made our breakfast choice (pancakes or oatmeal) easy. At least the loss occurred at the end of our trip.

We celebrated our arrival at Newboro with dinner at a local restaurant. Our phenomenally good weather lasted until late this afternoon when we had a brief thunderstorm and another brief shower about 10:00 P.M. as we hurriedly put up our tents.

An early departure this morning (Sunday) put us at the border by 8:00 A.M. where we zipped through customs and headed home, tired, full of memories, and ready to plan next year's twenty-fifth anniversary trip. Has it really been that many years that we have been doing these trips? We must have actually been young when we started! We are still young at heart.

Copyright © 2006 Scott Clark