Take it when you can get it......
.... Wi-Fi that is.
Jones' Falls.
Put in at Upper Brewers lock at about 12.30. Good paddling - but quite a
few power boats needing severe "low brace" paddle position. Good
practise but a bit nervous in the middle of these expansive waters!
(Later edit - This is what we're trying to achieve!)
 |
Upper Brewers to Jones Falls 19k |
Started from Upper Brewers. Massive, fruitless detour to Seeley's Bay.
Already portaged half of the flight of locks, the rest to do in the morning.
Huuuuuge thanks to Ann for taking us to the put in.
See you soon, we hope.
Now at Jones' Falls. Tent pitched, waiting for supper in the local fishing hotel.
 |
Jones Falls locks seen from the hotel veranda |
Rest day!
We slept well, to about 5.30. Coffee and collecting thoughts then - it
began to rain. By 11.30 we decided to pack anyway and paddled across
the holding pool to portage up above the top lock. Just as we put in,
the frogs started to make a clamour, and the rain stopped!
 |
Jones Falls to Newboro - 19k |
Reasonable paddling up to Davis Lock, where we decided not to portage, and took the easy way up.
Across Murphy's bay with a strong cross wind and more speed boats, to
Chaffey' s lock and the temptation to stay there overnight. I (Peter)
was very low at this point but Ali steered us through the islands on
Newboro lake, with forked lightening in the background.
An easy lift off the lake to a pleasant camp spot. Chunky soup and
noodles for supper. Very, very tired. Awoke with shoulder capsule pain
in the night. Some drizzle early on; we need a rest. Lunch in the
Sterling hotel in Newboro. Stubbornly sunny, but we are grateful for
the down time, a huge, open water pull tomorrow.
 |
Newboro lock |
This is fun - of sorts. But fun nevertheless.

|
Back from the wild
Tuesday.
More, much more later; but for now a quick message to say, "Yes, we are safe", "No, we didn't fall in".
But we lost our electronics yesterday evening when thunderstorm (we
were off the water, thankfully - but only just!) flooded all of our
plastic-wrapped electronics with 4 inches of water in the bottom of the
boat in just 20 minutes.
Great trip!
So - my notebook is not dry (the paper, not the ink!) but I thought that
I'd get a few bare essentials down and continue to edit over the next
few days....
This has been an extraordinary trip. The Rideau canal has
loomed large in our imagination for over three years as the paddle
route from the Laurentians to Toronto! One of these days we hope to join up all of
the waterways in between but for now, the idea was to "nail" the
Rideau.
So
I wrote briefly about day one and day two and the rest day at
Newboro. This was a lovely stop, a chance to "potter" and read and bask
in the sun-shine.
The wild-life was fun too; brightly coloured frogs and beautiful dragonflies.
Here we also met a couple paddling "the other way". He was Belgian -
very keen to chat; she was Quebecer, brought up in Woodstock USA - not
so keen.
Friday.
In
the morning, as we were packing up, two canoeists also came through,
wonderful, open, Christian men who shared their faith and their love of
what we were all doing. This next day envisaged our hardest challenge
with large expanses of water and nowhere to "bail out".
So, up to Narrows lock where we again met Angus and his friend, shared
blessings and laughter, and saw them off on a 50k day! Somehow, meeting
these guys reminded us of God's loving care for us. Everything seemed
more certain from then on.
These upper lakes - Upper Rideau Lake, Big Rideau Lake, are crystal
clear; there is little weed and the water goes down seemingly forever.
The plan was to keep to the Eastern shore of Upper - to shorten the line
and keep out of the main channel - and then keep to the Western shore
of Big - expecting wind from the west.
But in the end, although the route was pretty much what we intended, the
wind never materialised and we paddled across a mirror for k after k.
 |
Newborro to Murphy's Point - 21k |
I was still pretty nervous in the boat - I don't have Ali's sense of
balance - but I had found room for my feet at last and was beginning to
feel the movement in a far more relaxed fashion. Added to which, some
time around now, we decided to change navigator, from me to Ali. This
put the steering into the stern and the route-finding into the bow. And
now I began, slowly, to enjoy the physicality of the trip. The
speed-boat wakes still caused us to turn to take them head on, and big
wind-shifts would have worried us - but where was everyone?
This is cottage country in spades. Canadian shield land with rounded,
glaciated rock all the way to the shore and overhanging docks stocked by
power-boats. But the water was relatively quiet; we met one kayaker
all day, no canoes. The western shore of Big Rideau has a number of
inlets - we took shelter in one or two to rest backs and bums!
By Murphy's point - announced in the guide-book as a camping opportunity
- we really began to enjoy the following "sea" and the swoops and
glides that came with it. Close in to shore we saw a couple in one of
the paddle in sites. They told us that check in was three bays around
to the west.

Half an hour later, tired and rather dispirited, we chose a camp-site at
random - 411. On a little island, close down to the water, it seemed a
suitable spot and we were so tired.

We set up camp - a bit cross because there was such poor signage as to
what else we should have done - and cooked our noodles and soup mixture.
The water filter came out for the first time and did a good job.
Certainly the water tasted better than the tap stuff from the last
lock! The boreholes in this area give the water a sulphurous taste. A
bit like Vichy!
And then - big shock - not one but three canoes and couples turned up -
looking for pitches 413, 412 and 414! Apparently, we should have
booked. I tried to contact the Provincial Park by phone - a huge
recorded message and poor reception (Surprise!!) and finally through to
an agent. And then I got cut off - twice :-(
The couple on 412 sweetly offered us a place for our tent on their plot
if anyone came for ours. Mark (and Gerry) had booked two days ago and
been told that his was the last space available. So we sat around for a
while - but no-one ever came. I tell you - looked after.
Fireflies around the camp, flickering like tiny Christmas decorations; a
noisome - or should that be noisy - privy. But a good night's sleep
and a beautiful dawn.
Saturday.
Awake so early that we could take our time and still be away by nine.
And, as you see, the feared storms had yet to materialise. So we headed off pretty much in a straight line!
 |
Murphy's Point to Smiths Falls Detached via Rideau Ferry - 22k |
At Rideau Ferry, we met up with a kindly elderly gentleman who had been a
fishing guide and a paddle guide in the past. He loved the boat - as
have so many people! We had great food at the "Snack Shack" and loaded
up with more water in a 4 litre jug and some tins for supper - in case.
The last of the big water now - Lower Rideau Lake. And more mill-pond, sunshine and lilies!
The channel begins to take wide turns - not needed for the canoe!
 |
In Lower Rideau Lake |
And then I argued with the Navigator - and we missed the "Mud Cut" - a
short cut through the sea of reeds with an entrance about 4 feet wide.
Instead, we tried the next, adjacent entry to what looked like a sea of
waterlilies - as described to us by the Belgian - and ended up jammed
into wild rice!
Oh dear; I am Sooooo sorry. It was only a bit of a deviation; but it was a pity to have missed it.
Feeling strong, we pushed on to Poonamalie, a really pretty lock, and then on again to Smith's Falls Detached!
We visited Smiths
Falls last year on our way to Toronto. And now here we are, camping at
the very lock that we visited.

We had a very good Chinese take-away, including an excellent General Tso Chicken! Yum!
And found ourselves to be sharing our camp with a troop of Boy Scouts from Pennsylvania!
They were awake and about at 06.00 and off on he water by 09.00. With
ice in their personal cooler boxes to keep their sandwiches cool........
Great guys - about to make it to Chaffeys ( against the wind!). They
were carrying all of their personal kit - but were to be met each night
at their camp stop - and catered for. This is their "Chuck Wagon".
Which reminds me, thinking of Scouts; not only have we been very blessed
and fortunate in the weather and water conditions we have met, but we
also had a good teacher at the outset. Stephen - thanks very much
indeed for the instruction, conversation and support throughout.
Anything that might go "wrong" from here on is entirely our fault and
responsibility. You did warn us about double-bagging!
So - the happily inevitable preparations for the departure!
Sun-tan cream!
The plan today was for a long day to Merrickville. It didn't quite work out that way.
 |
Smiths Falls to Kilmarnock. 9.7 k |
Lots of locks today - through SF detached then SF combined (a very deep
lock replacing an original flight of three), to Slys and Edmunds and
onward to Kilmarnock.
We pulled on to the portage after the lock and were regaled by the dance
music - of a very modern variety - emanating from the simply huge boat
parked up on the other side. Not only that, but they had disembarked a
full sized barbecue, just for the two of them. They eventually packed
up and locked through - southbound.
We re-embarked and began the paddle north - and then turned around and came back to camp.

We were just tired, as the lock-master had mentioned when we first
stopped. And besides; we weren't aiming for the next lock, but the one
after. So pushing on feeling as we did would have been foolish.

As it was, we had a very pleasant evening eating up the left over
Chinese meal - with no ill effects - and gathering strength for the next
lap.
At the end of the day, a Dad and his boys came down to fish; the Dad
teaching them respect for the caught fish and responsibility for
returning it to the water quickly and with a minimum of discomfort.

This transfer of skills should be what this route is about.
Morning; a good night's sleep; an early start and some corner cutting saw us first on the blue line at Merrickville,
when the lockmaster asked us to move to let in the Kawartha Voyager.
So we moved over to the other side of the pool, behind these Voyageur copies.
And then more power-boats filled in the moorings and the lock-master forgot us.
And we had to wait two hours in full sun, not knowing what was going on, in order to start the lock down.
We were cross - and pretty complaining I'm afraid. Still, the winding
nature of the river from here meant that we kept catching up the rest of
the boats - eventually gaining a "what kind of motor do you guys have
in there?" from one of our fellow-lockers.
So we arrived at the second Nicholson's lock with the sky darkening ever
more. Once through the lock we pulled over to the dock to get our
waterproofs on - and the heavens opened! I mean really opened!
We sheltered under the lock house overhang and then I went down to check
on the boat - to find at least four inches of water in the bottom.
I bailed it out - another ten more minutes' worth topped it back up!
But the rain eventually stopped; we were safe and we paddled on under
clearing skies to Burritts Rapids.
But when we pulled the gear out of the boat, we found much wet - including our electronics.
Despite most helpful lock-staff and a wonderful meal at the now-open
Restaurant that we had last seen closed in September 2013, it was a
rough and sleepless night, full of remorse and recriminations, although
the stars were beautiful.
But the dawn was misty, and wonderful Ann answered our call and drove all the way up to collect us.

Thanks again Ann - and Rosie of course.
|
|
|
| _______________________________________________________ |
NOT what the forecast suggested!
Saturday we returned to Ontario, to Smiths Falls in fact, to watch some of the K2O - Kingston to Ottawa paddle race.
In the rain; torrential rain; and high wind.
Absolutely dreadful conditions for the first day; very strong winds and
driving rain. By Narrows lock (4.00 pm from a staggered 06.00 to 10.00
start), about a third of the teams had dropped out - including two Stand-up paddles (think surfboards and long paddles....)
(eh!?).
The two older guys at the bottom of the pictures were having a blast! (And yes, that is an Osprey!)
By nightfall at Poonamalee lock, the lead team (relay) competitor coming
off the water said the last lake (Lower Rideau) had been a white-out.
There were some concerns about a 74 year old paddler - I spoke to him
later, he had been blown off course and had to edge-hug.
Two seemingly
very experienced guys in an open - no buoyancy bags, just the canoe -
said that they had been surfing 1.5 foot waves (I think they actually
said 1.5 metres - surely not?) and had at one point been slammed
straight down after taking to the air.
I think that these were probably the open canoe leaders at the end of play.......
So - the race was pulled at nightfall. Everyone accounted for. Lessons
to be learned for sure but such fantastic spirit. All ages, both
genders. Brilliant!
Back to the beginning - Kingston to Upper Brewers'
Well - very tired now - 26 k today!
Here's a piece we didn't do earlier - never mind, we've done it now!
Couldn't have asked for better weather mind. A light northerly to start
with - on the nose - and then calmer and calmer through the day.
Sunshine and mild to warm; lovely countryside and a curry at the end.
More of of all that another time.
Right now - bed calls!
Sunday - yesterday in terms of the chronology of this account - we left
Smiths Falls and the motel of Mr Patel and his lovely wife.
Last year when we stayed there I asked him where I
could get a good Indian meal in Smiths Falls - and he offered to dig a
butter chicken out of the freezer for us! I told him that he should
start a restaurant instead!
We declined
on that occasion but I reminded him of our chat when I rang to make the
booking this time. He said he still hadn't opened a restaurant, but
would we like them to cook some Indian food for us when we came?
Well,
the embarrassment is that were out and about for most
of the evening - but I asked him to make us a meal for four - to take on to Ann. And he and his wife did just that!
We wandered down via lunch at
Newboro again and a bit of a trip down memory lane. But the
extraordinary part is that from the roads, you would never suspect the
beauty and the scale of the lakes that are hidden "just over there"!
Monday morning early we went
with Ann to be put in at Kingston, about 200 yards up from the bascule
bridge which really marks the start of the Rideau.
Although we had a bit of a
Northerly to start with, once through Kingston Mills locks (we arrived
in perfect timing for this flight of three then one), the wind gradually
eased and we had perfect paddling all the way up Colonel By lake and
into the River Styx (originally Sticks because of all the flooded
trees). A long pull, and a little breather two thirds of the way up
before meeting the famed apple trees growing wild beside the river and
then Lower Brewers, Upper Brewers and the original put in.
Ann met us ten minutes after
we arrived - and then home to that curry.
Yum!
Absolutely shattered, we slept
on our mats in the Sun-room (from choice; Ann offered other
accommodation!) We woke just once in the night, to be surrounded by
stars shining through the windows. Wonderful indeed,
This is the end of the Rideau
for this year. It would not have been possible in this way without
Ann's help and Stevie's shared welcome.
Thank you both - and Rosie of course! :-)
Back home.
Well,
A lovely drive up from Ann's outside Kingston. We came along the 401
and then up the 416 to Ottawa - to be lead by a most compliant Sat-Nav
(Emily) to the crossing at Mason.
This really is the most remarkable ferry. It operates 24 hours a day and I think 365 days a year. It's run by
Traversiers Bourbonnais under the slogan "Five minutes of relaxation - to avoid the stress of the circulation (traffic)".
We were needing some lunch by now and Ali eschewed the offer of Chinese
food for a "Casse croute" (literally "break crust"). A really nice but
toothless gentleman who told us that he had recently bought the business
( a way-side shack) using a bequest his mother had left him. He was
proud of his own smoked-meat; his own sausages and his little business.
He waited gently whilst we said grace and wished us "God Bless" as we
left. We hope that he does well. I'm sure that we shall find an
opportunity to visit him again.
Home to wash the boat (the
Station de lavage (essentially the local
garage) declined the opportunity to wash it for us, saying that his
jet-wash would undoubtedly blow a hole in the boat!). But it's serious
stuff. There are zebra mussels and other invasive species in the Rideau
- which former eat the beneficial plankton and let the mats of green
stuff flourish. We do not want those here, thank you!
A bit of a fractious day - delayed weariness I suspect........
Saturday, 5th September, 2015.
"So, where have you guys come from?"
"From Kingston, Ontario".
"How long has it taken you?"
"Just over a year!"
Friday, 4th September.
Aylmer, Quebec; been in about 3 hours now. A shower, a beer (and a cup
of tea!) and a quick catch up with the post and here we are.
On Sunday last, the 30th,
we travelled to Arundel for church. The previous, warm welcome, lovely people, and
then away to Aylmer to stay with P and N overnight at their house
there. Warm; the air heavy with the scent of a transient skunk. A
delicious supper; slightly distracted by the prospect ahead.
Isn't
it strange how phrases get in to your head? On an open canoe
chat-room, there was a long-running conversation regarding additional
buoyancy in canoes. I (meaning to be ironical) said that we were off to
finish paddling the Rideau "with air-bags fitted". I was challenged
by a subscriber: "Sorry, but if you're using air-bags on the Rideau Canal, PLEASE don't go north and paddle the backcountry. Really."
Those
words haunted me for two whole days. Had I been too foolhardy last
year and put us at real risk? Was I overcompensating this year? And,
drat it!, who's trip was it anyway? But the words went around and
around my head - until Long Island Locks - where I met a Canadian who
put it all in context.
Monday, 31st August.
A leisurely start to the day; some commissions at Jean Cocteau then
with P and N to Burritts' Rapids - the scene of our bail-out last year.
Our aim, Ottawa; our route, day one..... to Rideau Hill Camp.
We pitched tent on the road side of the lock this year - last year we limped in to the river side.
And
then we headed over to the restaurant for a light something or other
before P and N left us. A stroll along the island between cut and river and these views...
....
before coming back to the restaurant for supper, a good night's sleep
(despite the all-night generator at the cafe and the occasional car
passing along the road), and a very misty start.
Tuesday, 1st September. Pinch, punch! Where did August go?
I have a clear memory of early anglers in the fog before sunrise, and then time to pack and off we go!
The
countryside here is low, flat fields shielded by screens of trees. It
was good to be back on the river, in our own world of me and her; just
paddling; letting the yards go by.
We
stopped at Beckett's Landing for a drink, a snack and a rest. Nobody
came, and nobody went. And some of us perhaps snored - briefly!
The Long Reach - Burritts to Black Rapids - is rightly named. There was no way that we could have paddled it all in one day.
Further
on it began to be populated by large houses - with sweeping lawns.
Impressive enough (but nothing compared with what we would come across
later!)

So
we had reconnoitred during the Fall and contacted the United Church
regarding the possibility of spending our first night at their Kids'
Camp at Rideau Hill, just North of the Baxter Park; a long haul this;
and then! And then perhaps the most incongruous, welcome sight of the
whole trip - a floating ice-cream - Float! There, in the middle of the
river, was a converted pontoon boat - selling ice-cream..... I mean;
how can you resist?
Fortified by two cones (how do you
eat a cone in the middle of a river, vaguely trying to stabilise a
canoe?) we pressed on the last klick or so to the camp-site.
A
delightful, if rather mosquito-favoured - haven at the end of a long
day. A new ritual developed at this point; cups of tea - lemon or Earl
Grey, depending - once the tent was up and before the main meal was
prepared. Just so!
It was really buggy here - and not
just mosquitoes! But it was a welcome haven and, we were grateful for
the offer, for the lights left on at the loos and for the warm water
at the showers by the pool. Thanks! 21.4 k.
Wednesday, 2nd September.
After another foggy dawn, today, the rest of the run to Long Island Locks; a two stops day.
First, to an improbable marina on the west bank at or after (we never did find the settlement) Kars.
Met
by a man who could only have come out of an Evelyn Waugh novel, faced
across the river by a re-incarnation of the African Queen, this
delightful, spotless, piratically themed rest-stop offered cold drinks, a
freezer full of B-B-Q food, a double shower (!), seating and a very
"shiver me timbers" welcome. Another time, I think we'd stop here, if
only for the fun of it!
The
river-sides became lined with grander and grander houses; if anyone
asked me what the prevailing sound of the Rideau Canal was, I'd have to
say lawn-mowers. Some of these houses had lawns of well over an acre -
all trimmed within an inch of their lives! I stopped taking pictures of
mansions - they were VAST. Think Thames-side on steroids - and then
some.
Second stop - luxury this - Kelley's Landing for a
late lunch; with ladies who lunch - obviously often! A very, very
nicely cooked yellow-fin-tuna steak on a Salade Nicoise, and an
accessory dish of panko crumbed calamari - with copious lemonade - went
down a surprising treat! (as did a hot lobster, crab and shrimp dip
followed by a Caesar Salad). Fine dining with your boat at the dock!
But
simpler fare followed; a charming, peaceful lay-over at Long Island
locks; balm to the soul - and a chorus of cigales so intense that it
sounded like a gas-leak. 19.3 k.
A magnificent thunderstorm, drifting south from Ottawa, couldn't keep us awake, or break through the tent. Hooray for Vango!
Thursday, 3rd September. Long Island Locks to Hartwell's lock.

A
very damp start; foggy first thing and then clearing. We discovered
that using a tea-towel to wipe both the inside and the outside of the
tent optimised drying. Simple for some but new to us! Things have
changed since being afraid of disturbing the proofing by touching the
inside of a wet tent......
In fact, the day cleared to
bright, bright sun, fortunately with a change of wind to the North -
right on the nose but very welcome.
In the lock, one of
the staff chatted to us, knowledgeably, about stitch and tape boats -
which ours is. We spoke of our designer, Paul Fisher, of his
helpfulness to us on a number of occasions, and then of our thoughts for
further trips.
But above all, he said, "you might need
a bigger boat for the Trent-Severn; its a working waterway". This is
only 32" wide" I replied, "Tippy," he said, "but the romance of the
whole thing; You have built your own boat and paddled - or will have
paddled - the Rideau. My Congratulations to you."
In
one phrase, I was justified! Justified in my continuing instability in
our lovely boat; justified in our pride at what we had done. Justified
in believing that Canada is a country that not only makes such trips
possible, it makes them understandable.
We paddled
right under the flight path for Ottawa airport; and right under all the
mid-day arrivals! Lunch-time at a really laid-back Black-Rapids lock
was met with advice to avoid camping at Hog's Back - because of the
noise - and to go on to Hartwells' instead. Seemed reasonable.
At
Hog's Back we found and paid due deference to the Rideau Canoe
Club-house at the entrance to Hog's Back locks. I don't know that
anyone noticed....
And
so we pressed on to Hartwell's Lock. We'd left the river now and were
completely in engineered water. But it was remarkably pleasant with
cyclists and pedestrians and roller-bladers skimming along Colonel By
drive, and no-one else on the water.
Hartwell's Lock is
right adjacent to Carleton University campus; it was Fresher's' week.
There were many barbecues on our side of the water, but first year
students in Canada are 17 - unable to drink alcohol - so events were
much quieter than they might have been and only the discotheque kept us
awake after dark.
The canal was warm and clear to rinse tired feet in.
The
lock wash-rooms were accidentally closed, so we pretended to be
students and used the facilities in the Canal building of the
University! 16.3k
Friday, 4th September. Hartwell's Lock to
Parc Plaisance Jaques Cartier - Quebec.
Such
a glorious day. suntan cream on; a northerly wind to keep us cool,
cyclists, pedestrians and joggers to greet and salute us like a welcome
party. Canadians just seem to be friendly people.
And
then at last, the view we have looked forward to for such a long time;
Fairmont Chateau Laurier and the bridges to the Ottawa flight of locks.
There was a catch in the voice of each of us, I'll tell you.
The step down was a long-drawn, contemplative pattern of latch on, cast off, paddle, latch on, cast off....
And
then we were free. Released from the stricture of the water-way,
welcome and reassuring as it had been, to face the new frisson of the
Ottawa River.
Well,
we had had wonderful advice from Stephen, Max, Beckie, the Lock-Masters
and others. We struck out for the far shore, following at first the
boat we had come down with. A river-trip boat appeared; we rode the
wake. A power-boat arrived, hurrying to catch the lock behind us and
trailing a real wake; we got wet! For the first time since Murphy's Bay
- a year and a long way ago, we had water on board!
We
pulled then for the North Shore, bounced and pushed through the wind
against (very little) tide chop and made landing at the slipway at Parc
Jaques Cartier.

Job done.
Big smiles.
Hartwell's to Parc Jacques Cartier - 7.5 k
Kingston to Ottawa - 203km