The event was the Huntsville film festival hosted by Algonquin Outfitters and it was a toss up for being my first successful solo or another fun trip with my paddling partner, Steve Miller.  We pretty much had thins nailed down on Tuesday until everything took a major twist (as per usual) and by Thursday we had finally decided on Steve and I going to the show, and then into Algonquin PP for a short interior trip.

Hat’s off to Randy and the rest of the AO staff plus the Algonquin Theatre staff for putting on a first class production.  We met a lady at the door and she was told the box office was closed and she wouldn’t be able to purchase a ticket.  “POOF”  out of my pocket appeared an extra ticket and she was in and smiling!  Funny how something so easy can make you feel so good inside.

Saturday dawned a glorious morning and with a constant level of “What the heck is going on?” we gathered our stores and off we went….and came back….then went….and finally returned to the Portage Store on Canoe Lake.  Permits procured, canoe unloaded, and gear stored, we were set to go when the “Holy Jeez” cry of uncertainty erupted and a man and woman were unceremoniously deposited into the lake as the man attempted to enter the canoe.  Omen of things to come……?

First time for us on this route and the paddle was fantastic right up to the portage around the dam into Joe Lake.  MOSQUITO CENTRAL!!!  These babies had landing lights on them.

Out onto Joe we went and while we had a number of first choices, we knew we’d have to have a close look at what was available.  Rounding a corner we came across a folded over marker and decided to have a look.  As we approached the landing cove, the bugs again descended but we were hooked on the first appearance.  It was a great choice with a sun drenched glen for the fire pit and tent and our own verandah overlooking the waterway.  In we went and started to land our gear and have a look…….at all the garbage left behind by our “fellow campers”.  Come on people!   The canoe wasn’t emptied when the sound of an outboard rang in our ears and we were then talking to an MNR officer and a PP warden.  Pleasantries exchanged, I asked if they’d be opposed to our trucking out a bunch of leftovers and they were quick to offer a bag and the service of their boat to bring the junk out.  Thank you Gentlemen!

Just a glorious day spent within a magnificent setting and after a delicious dinner, we bedded down for the evening anticipating a wet morning with rain in the forecast.  My night was broken from a troubled sleep and the morning dawned as wet as imagined.

All in all it was a great trip as it marked my first time interior camping in the park and the first time to lay eyes on the cairn to Tom Thomson.  Yet this trip has raised more questions than it has provided answers.  Part of the journey, no?

 

Plans were originally for two couples to head north to attend the Reel Paddling Film Festival and as we all know, sometimes plans will go awry.  The show was booked for the Friday night and finally on Thursday Steve and I decided to go to the show and then proceed into Algonquin Provincial Park to wet a paddle.

I need to make the point abundantly clear at this point that I am a believer that spirits past will, or do make contact with those of us on this side of the trip.  Far too many occurrences have happened to me in the presence of others to dispel  any other belief.  This recount is not to persuade you to believe, but rather, to consider.

Friday night we attended the show and needed some additional items so decided to camp out in Huntsville and proceed on in the morning.  While sleeping I dreamt, imagined, saw, some white light glow, alternately from both eyes.  I told Steve in the morning it was if a flashlight was being shone into my eyes.  I shoved it off as being tired, anxious, or just something new to dream about as it only happened twice.

Our trip into the Park was crazy because we didn’t really have a target but we had an idea about what we wanted to do.  Two targets down and we found ourselves at the Canoe Lake Portage Store.  We were headed off in the direction of Joe Lake.  Loading the canoe and pushing off reminded me of so many trips before, jumping on the water with my cousin, Tom, who has passed away some 5 years ago.

The weather was grand and good time was made.  We arrived at the portage and respectfully fed the mosquitoes on the way through and entered the interior towards Joe.  We had considered some choices and proceeded on as site after site was either all ready taken or ruled out.  Considerable distance was made and a folded over site plaque was seen and in we went.  Every thing seemed first choice about the site and the decision was made. There was an easy entry cove to land the canoe and once ashore we found a peaceful glen for the fire pit and space for our small tent.  The forest behind offered a series of trails and several additional spots for tents, however, it was the sunshine on the single space out front that put a signature on this place.

We’ve all landed and immediately gone off to see where this or that trail lead and we were no different.  After some time I found something very strange, indeed.  A pinkish granite rock that bore an uncanny likeness to the reflection of a bow and deck of a canoe.  The remarkable feature that set this apart was the initials that had been carved into the stone with outstanding quality.  This was definitely from another time where years ago, the carver took painstaking time to show pride in his work!

I never told Steve of my discovery and while we discussed some of the times Tom and I enjoyed, we agreed it was great for the two of us to get out and test some new limits.

Saturday night I again had the glow and all I can say is that it was a glowing light, not a single beam, and it switched from eye to eye.  Almost as if someone was looking in as opposed to me looking out.  I was always looking up; looking up into the corners of my eyes.

Sunday morning brought the rain as forecast and we broke camp early.  I mentioned to Steve that he had to see this rock that I’d found with the initials.  Well, I found the rock and pushed away the brush and……the initials were gone!  With the rain over the stone, it made the rock lose the impression of the carving.  It wasn’t until I wiped away the water that the initials could be seen.  Coincidence?

As I said before, I do believe and I’m not attempting to sway your opinion.  The light thing has never happened to me before and I’ve no idea why anyone would carve initials to a rock, with such care, and so far back into the bush.  So who is R. N. and why would a single shore bolt with nut and square washer be set into the rock, and why this particular site.

“And it took him to itself at last”

@OntarioParks @TTLastSpring @GeekinGirl @LeeHammond29 @Some_Eventful @Algonquin_PP @christinascheau @Man_Camping

It’s been said, “If you can’t be true with yourself, you can’t possibly be true to others.”
My hat is off to the solo campers/canoeists/hikers that ply the rivers and trails for their own satisfaction, adventure, or to increase their own capacity.

I travelled into Algonquin on a trip with some secondary school students and the plan was for me to travel so far, then turn around and solo for the balance of the day and the following day. This was to be a first for me and I had done a very good job of planning the trip as far as food and equipment went. Where I crashed and burned was with the mental preparation! I had always travelled with a crew and thought this would be exactly the same, only quieter. Wrong!

After leaving the group, who sent me off with a resounding paddle slap in a full ring of canoes around mine, I was off. My route was firm in my mind and my map before me on my pack. Every paddle stroke told me all was good and the path smooth and clear. I mentally checked off points and features I had made note of on the way in. Rounding a gentle bend in the way I looked at the shoreline and froze. For the life of me, I could not discern where the shore ended and the water began. I was afraid to look up because I considered my balance and what the position change would do. I took my paddle and laid it across the gunwales of my canoe and lowered my head while closing my eyes. Breathing was the key as fear was knocking on my door. Deep, slow and consistent breathing until I was satisfied I could address the situation again. I sat up and took stock of the situation and saw the dividing line between what was and what was reflected.

A very sobering experience and a lesson I haven’t forgotten, yet one I’d care to share as it may be a life saver.

The headline was blazing across the monitor and the photo made me realize the heartbreak the owner would feel to have lost such a beautiful canoe.  It later became evident it was not just the owner, but the builder, who had put his own time, thought, care , and effort into building such a quality vessel.  Well, thanks God, to the media, and we go from a share of the canoe notice to, “Hey, think you can help”, to “I’d love to have you paddle one!”

The good news is that the canoe has been recovered, and the better news is that we took Stephan up on his invitation and did a small trek out to Bell’s Lake, Grey County, to test out this years’ new launch for the Claxton Canoe Company.   The first attempt to hit the lake yielded a Provincial Police “Road Closed” barrier and so off through the woods we went. We finally got to the launch area and even Izzy was shaking his head. First impressions are usually the ones to last and there was virtually no parking so we knew were in the right spot.  The canoes in the water just demanded the attention they were due with light and dark contrast stripping and a striking contrast to the Temagami styled brush along the shore line.

The very first impression I got of Steve was his immediate, “Dave?” and the offering of his vice-like handshake.  This is a man who pays attention to his craft and is more than willing to share his experience, all the while, standing before his art.  Each of the three canoes bears a somewhat different line, either in the line of the gunwales or the tumblehome, or the upsweep of the decks, but each one, is the one!

We talked of the two canoes in the water and then focus went to the one ashore with the unique seating arrangement in the bow station.  Steve told me he has worked on an adaptation for the bow seat for wheel chair access. His system provides a wheel knock-off so the frame of the chair can slide into a set of rails and the wheels can sit behind the chair.  From the water this would look like nothing more than a comfy chair but think of the worlds it could open to other people who would like to try canoeing.

How could this not say “Freedom?”

Well, The Claxton Canoe Company has just shifted to a new home in Meaford so things may be a bit hectic over the next few weeks, but I’m confident this will be a canoe building concern, with industry innovations, for years to come.  On the plus side, this is a Company that re-works wood, and that’s a good thing.

The canoe I paddled was taken from a 1929 Peterborough and she was just a hair over the 14′ mark.  While I didn’t tape measure, I’d say the beam at the gunwales was 35″ and a depth of 14 1/2″. The wood was to cry for and this canoe just danced under a soft J-stroke. While she did have a full keel, it was evident she would track very well.  By lowering your hand on the paddle you could lift the bow right out of the water and with a twist of the paddle in tight quarters, she’d turn in her own length.

So thanks Stephan, Christina Brodie, for pointing me in the right direction and good luck with your future endeavours.

 

 

A fresh breeze was against my face and the fact was, I wasn’t completely certain of where I was. The growl come from deep in his throat and I knew he was very close.  I turned my head and shifted my shoulders to see if I could detect any motion and that’s when he struck.  The attack was perfectly calculated and executed with pinpoint accuracy.  I was totally without defence.  His nose, wet and cold right in between my shoulders and I was  instantly awake!  Aw c’mon Izzy, it’s 6:00 AM…….Holy Cow!   6:00 AM and today is another adventure.

Well it was a great morning and we enjoyed our walk plus it gave Karin time to get ready for the road trip we had planned.  Water and bowl plus some road treats for Izzy, tea for Karin and COFFEE for me.  After years on the highways as a commercial driver, I selected a leisurely drive through the back roads and it was fantastic.  Just under 2 hours and after running through Mono Mills, past the Forks of the Credit, a quick right turn onto Hwy 7 and bingo, we had arrived…..at The Holy Cow Canoe Company.

Naomi had said that they were enjoying a very busy spring and she’s obviously not one for exaggerating.  We were met at the door by Gulam Baloch, General Manger, and even with his workload that we later became aware of, he made himself ready, willing and very able to answer our questions.

The Holy Cow Canoe Company has been satisfying the paddling needs of so many since 1978. They build their hulls in ultra-glass, Kevlar, and Carbon-Kevlar, both trademarked, and all models are available with a wide array of trim and options.  We found out today that Naomi  has a flair in the artistic and design background and the colour choice is a product of her input.  She obviously knows her stuff as the Robins Egg Blue is a show stopper!

Dan was in the shop laying up a new hull and showed us some very cool insider methods to ensure a high quality end result finish.  His efforts inside were echoed outside while viewing the canoes awaiting delivery and pick up.  Local, you bet; local only, not a chance!  These canoes are being shipped around the world and for very good reason.  These people ensure the boat you buy is going to perform the way you want it to.  Sure, we all want the right colour but colour doesn’t do the job, so wait a week and get the exact fit you want.

Well, we wandered the new facility inside and out and I don’t think the furnace is the only new thing; I can see a whole new chapter being written here.  Holy Cow!  Just a name, no I think it’s a feeling that reflects the work they put into these boats.  Izzy agreed and we’re not sure if he was upset with leaving or the snow hitting the windshield all the way home but he did enjoy his adventure.

Thanks again to the Holy Cow Canoe Company for having us and to your continued success.  It was a moo’ving experience.

 

 

I’d just poured a cup of coffee and the idea hit me like a flash.  Izzy knew something was up and he came right over and sat at my feet, head up, with those beautiful brown orbs, he sat waiting to hear the news.

I had a repair kit sitting at Swift Canoe and Kayak and I thought that with such a brilliant day outside, I would drive Izzy up to Gravenhurst for an outing and I could also pick up my parts and have a look at the new canoes.  I got in touch with Swift and Scott said it was a busy time as product was being loaded for another trade show.  Hey, big and busy are often found in the same conversation.  Good news to hear and adventure on so I broke the news to Izzy.  Well the tail wag and the head to head …..”Did I hear that right, you have to buy….look at canoes?”  and I knew in a heartbeat he was game.

Light traffic and “Willie Nelson” blue sky overhead, some water in a bottle, Izzys’ water bowl and we were off.  I know that road like the back of my hand and the sights continued to unfold as we drew near our destination.  Finally the dinosaur flashed its’ teeth by the dock dealer and I started to tick off the driveways until finally that familiar yellow and brown announced the “next stop” was right here.

Upon pulling into the driveway you could see there were trucks and trailers here, there, and what do you mean, WHERE?  We decided to park out of the way of the activity so I puled in right in front of the , AGGGGHHHHHH! …..”the Prospector rack!”

The Prospector Rack!   The cool trickle of sweat made it’s appearance on my brow as Izzy paced from window to my shoulder to the window.  Glossy cherry and the famed cross hatch of carbon tech.  We sat, frozen in front of a wide rainbow of colour and performance.  It was as if Agents Izzy Skully and Mulder had reached the point where they were going to put an X on this file.

Finally, I broke the trance and slowly exited the vehicle, making my way to the beckoning front door.  Within seconds my kit was located and purchased which allowed me time to meet Scott, personally, and yak in general about some of the canoes.

“See ya later”, was said and I made my way back to the truck, and yes, David, it is another Ram 1500, when I caught Izzy, overseeing the loading operation while viewing the storage racks…..almost as if he were making his pick.   It took me a long time to get his backside into his seat so I’m guessing he had a solid pick.  On the way out to the highway Izzy nudged me so I swung left past the racks, each holding 4 of the Northern canoe lines.  Izzy barked and we stopped at the first rack as something didn’t appear to be right…..why only 3 canoes in that rack?  Oh well, just another Northern mystery.

Our little pup was very quiet on the way home and it was the first time during our trip that he actually lay down.  When I asked him if he had enjoyed the outing, I got a peculiar look as you can see in the photos.  The only thing I can figure is that perhaps I was speaking too fast and the “buy some” and the “look at some canoes”  ran together as “buy some canoes”.

Hey,  I’m sure with some biscuits and some time, we can always put together another road trip, for whatever the reason.

@Swift_Canoe @algonquinoutfit @Paddle_In @PasionatePadler @christinasheu #getoutside #getoutdoors @luv2campingmom

Well the power is back on after 15 hours and we’ve been out surveying the impact the storm had on our surroundings. The trees out front have been damaged by the ice and it appears to be almost a full inch thick taken off the back patio. The sun glistening through the ice coating makes the branches blaze with fiery diamond reflections.

The underside of the deck tells the back of your neck that things are warming up already and reminds you of overhead dangers.

I had three of the girls out back to start doing some clean up and minor cosmetic repairs and when I lay down to check them out, I saw their tears running down. Soon Girls, very soon!

I got off the phone with Gillian from Swift Canoe and Kayak in South River and my new gelcoat repair kit is on the way and kudos to Swift for such a remarkably quick and efficient response system. Ms. Scott (14′) is going to be so happy to get rid of the stress marks.
As a bonus to a sombre day, I’ve come across an epoxy compound which is Eco friendly and boasts some fantastic virtues…..and is already in use with some high end boat people. In the promo on this product we read about it being, ” a Plant based, 100% solid, waterproof, non-toxic, non-solvent, non-conductive, epoxy system that is Certified “GREEN”. The UVPoxy kit cures to a clear, UV resistant, glass-like finish that resists scratching and yellowing.”
I’m all for getting back to the GREEN and I know where I’m spending my green to protect my canoes.
If you want to get it, you have to give it!
You can get me at thecanoecollector@gmail.com.

 

Well, hopefully that was the flu bug of the season that has roamed our hallways for the last 2 weeks.
A lot of soul searching has been done over the winter and I’m going to get busy, and very selective, when it comes time to thin the fleet and make some additions. One that will never leave the home port is our Lady in Red; a cedar canvas who has been identified as a 16′ Chestnut Pal. This is a canoe who is open to attention just by showing up! Fast forward almost 14 years ago. Our buddy is in the drink with a broken leg; myself and my wife, 5 months pregnant with twins, paddles for help and the guy holding the bow line says, ” Man, She’s a beauty”. I honestly didn’t know if he was referring to Karin or the canoe but he was correct on both counts so I let it go.
Shawn James made a comment on My Self Reliance about “My Perfect Place” and shows a gorgeous cedar canvas canoe and that combination drives the point home to me. Sure, you can have this composite or that kevlar coupled with 40 pounds in an 18′ 6″ canoe but I virtually guarantee you won’t be able to smell the wood, you won’t be able to re-create the deadened “thunk” of the paddle shaft to the gunwale. There is no sound so exquisite as the flow of water around a well paddled canvas canoe.
So this year the fleet will change but whatever your end desire, be it weight, style, function, or level of competence, please, please get out and encourage, admire, and share your experiences.
Canoeing means so much to so many but no matter the height of the tree; she took root at ground level!
To Bill Mason, I say, thanks for lighting a small fire in the mind of a young student so many years ago.  To those wondering if they’re able; stand a bit closer to the fire as it will warm your soul and build your confidence!

Go easy on me, it’s been a while.
Long ago, in a far away place, I used to listen to people who would tell me of wondrous things that could happen. Sad part was that they didn’t happen in that order. The good part was that I learned to embrace many concepts that people fail to respect. The respect to only look down on somebody when you are helping them up, the ability to honestly offer assistance when the question is asked…..and expect nothing more than a thanks in return. By offering your own experience, while keeping an open mind to someone else’s views, or personal challenges, to come to a better resolve. The only way to improve is to continually test yourself to your limit.
It all began with a few, and has grown to many, only because there are so many who give, unselfishly, and so I say, thank you.
My cousin, Tom, offered the very first invite 50 years ago and it has blossomed to a whole new crew from the David’s, Christina’s, Matt’s, Marian’s, Duane’s, Terry’s, Shawn’s, and everyone else.
From here to Scotland and Italy we really need to sit back and realize what a proud community we represent and are thankful for.