Sunday, November 17, 2019

My last dance with my canoe for the season.

Winter is closing in fast here in Algonquin Highlands. 

Snow covers my Swift Prospector Canoe as I look out over the beaver pond which is in front of my home. 

The pull of the paddle is strong and I have no ability
to resist its song.  

I dust her off and we join hands and dance our last dance for the season. 

When spring begins to thaw the ice and if I am here to feel the warmth of the sun on my face. I will once again grab my paddle and place the yoke of the canoe over my shoulders. I will place her into the water and plunge my paddle deep; so that I may hear her hull as she glides across the water. 







Liam and I head out for the distant Radiant Lake. Algonquin Park, Day Five.


With a total distance of 10 Km. to travel, and only 1,710 meters of portaging, we were in for a grand day. 

The weather was gorgeous with clear blue sky from horizon to horizon. 

With our canoe loaded and our paddles in hand, Liam and I leave our campsite on Kildeer Lake and head 
towards a Lake which is supposed to be Radiant. 




Tuesday, October 29, 2019

The Big Question. Why the heck are we doing this?

I have been asked this question many times throughout the years. 

I answer as best I can, trying to paint a picture with my words. 

My paddle pulls me through these scenes and my mind consumes the visions relayed to it via all of my senses. 

I am absorbed into the natural world and become lost in its embrace.  


Perhaps, this short video will help solidify my words. 




Monday, October 28, 2019

Our Swift Canoe takes a nap. Day four of Ten in Algonquin Park.


Liam and I catch a much needed break. 

We spend the day hanging out on a beautiful campsite situated on Kildeer Lake in Algonquin Park. 

Early in the morning, while Liam catches up on his beauty sleep, I paddle over to the old Canadian National Railway line which serviced this area of the park. 

Liam; well rested and full of his usual youth-full vigor, decides that this day of rest should entail the rigors of an exercise routine. 

I simply stand and video the process, completely at ease with my age and my desire to not compete. 

As the day progresses, we melt into the land and soak in the peace which surrounds us. 

Tomorrow, I will get to accompany Liam of Algonquin to Radiant Lake, which rests quietly north-west of our present position.  

For now, I think I will just watch the sun go down. 



Night time closes in us while we are still on the trail. Canoe Tripping in Algonquin Park.

Liam and I arrive at the junction of the Crow River and White Partridge Creek at approximately three pm. 

The journey to this juncture has tested us and has left us wondering if we should continue on. 

Our food is dehydrated. Water is required to re-hydrate it. I was far from comfortable taking the water from the relatively stagnant river. Regardless of how good our filter is, Giardia and other little bugs are just waiting for new hosts. 

As I wander up the small incline at the start of the next long portage, I encounter a campsite littered with glow sticks. My reaction is inevitable. 

That same reaction re-rejuvenates my diminished energy levels and we decide to move on. 

As I move through the long portage trail, the creature within my book "A Long Paddle Home" comes into my mind like a wraith and pushes me. 






Saturday, October 26, 2019

We push ourselves to near exhaustion. Day Three - Algonquin Park.

Liam and I wake up as the faint light of a new day infiltrates our tent. We pack up our gear, load the canoe and head out to see what the third day of our trip in Algonquin Park has in store for us.  

We have deep reservations about the planned route.
Low water levels have us questioning our ability to make it to our next campsite before nightfall. 

The day begins with a Bald Eagle as it flies out from the south shoreline, it circles us and then heads back the way it came. Omen - Maybe. 



Tuesday, October 22, 2019

Portaging thoughts while canoe tripping in Algonquin Park.


Stay tuned! 

Liam and I embark on the third leg of the trip. 

Tired from the night before, we plunge our paddles into the cold water's of Crow Bay. 


We head out for a day which will direct the course of the rest of our stay in Algonquin Park.  

As we wander, I begin to imagine what it would be like to walk with the ancient ones through this place of mystery and wonder.  

The writer in me begins to see the pages of a new book. 



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