Several years ago, I returned from a brief ‘hiatus’ from paddling….well maybe not so brief unless you count 10 years as ‘brief’….not that I hadn’t been in a canoe periodically over those lost years….but certainly not as ‘involved’ as I have been the past couple of seasons. I hadn’t gone on a canoe trip of any length….I’d sold off most of my gear….and practically hung up my paddle.

The wood canvas canoe that I’d grown up with had been sold long ago to be replaced by first one kayak then several others: my Dad had taken up kayaking….he’d gone over to the ‘dark side’. But at least he was still dipping a paddle….occasionally with my Mom along in her kayak (my folks had bought ‘his and her’ kayaks eventually). Despite the fact that using a double paddle is usually only for those that can’t find someone else to tandem paddle in a canoe (LOL LOL),  my Dad had convinced my Mom to take up kayaking. My Mom had never found a canoe to her liking, thinking it was too ‘tippy’ for her….but sitting in a kayak was another matter….maybe it was the lower centre of gravity (my Mom had always sat up on the bow seat of the canoe)….maybe it was just the size of the canoe itself: at 14 ft. it was better as a solo canoe than as a tandem….this fact had been proven over and over by the number of times that my Dad had been relegated to paddling solo while I sat as a passenger in the bottom of the canoe, pouring drinks and handing out sandwiches on our early excursions when I was a young lad. (Later when I was older and more accomplished as a paddler, I took that canoe to various camps or outdoor education centres I worked at, sometimes paddling it when I taught others how to paddle, but more often using it to get away during my time off, going off on solo trips, or just getting out for a paddle early in the morning or under the stars of the night sky. After I had moved away from home, and left the canoe behind, it sat in the garage unused….my Dad finally sold it to somebody who would paddle it on a regular basis.)

My Dad was eventually offered a home-built canvas covered kayak – well actually it was covered in naugahyde (a fake leather covering used to upholster furniture….maybe a bit unorthordox for a covering of a boat but it worked….it actually floated well). My Dad replaced that kayak with another canvas skin on frame kayak that he had built for him. Then he discovered the plastic revolution in kayaks….he got a RiverRunner with its skeg that hooked on to keep the kayak in a straighter line in flat water….which was soon replaced by a Wilderness Systems touring kayak, which he loved so much he got one for my Mom (the family that paddles together, stays together don’t you know LOL LOL). Both my folks took some lessons from Tim Dyer and gang at White Squall near Parry Sound (in fact one of their first instructors was Pam Wedd, the well known wood canvas canoe builder)….and paddled their kayaks at the summer cottages they rented or lodges they stayed at, especially in Haliburton or the Kawarthas. But my Dad loved to get out on his own too (no comment intended here on the family that paddles together, stays together theory….my Dad just liked time off on his own). He bought a special car rack with rollers on it so he could easily load his kayak on his own (my Dad was very independent) and would head off for day trips all over southern Ontario, within a drive of home….paddling on Lake Simcoe one day, Lake Wilcox another….maybe Lake Belwood or even the Trent Canal system….wherever there was enough water to float his kayak. Even in his mid-80s, he was still paddling his kayak, captain of his own vessel (my Dad was an old Navy man)….in fact he was paddling up until just a few months of his death.

My Dad and I often talked about paddling….about places he could go that he hadn’t been to before….sometimes he even reminded me of the times we had spent in the old family canoe. But it really took his passing to jump start my paddling career….I ended up buying an old ‘new’ Peterborough Minetta in his memory. I guess when you lose someone close, you reflect back on the good times that you’d spent with that person….and for me that included the times we had been in a canoe together….even if my paddling was limited at first. We had often talked about taking a canoe trip together….a route that I had done my first solo trip on….in the northwest corner of Algonquin….and even though we never got to do that trip together while my Dad was alive, he was definitely with me when I finally went on the same route with the wood canvas Minetta.

It took my Dad’s passing to get me to reconnect with Kirk Wipper….they were both Navy vets and about the same age….and Kirk was very much a huge influence in my life. But I’ve talked enough about Kirk’s impact on my life in past blog posts….so I won’t bore you with retelling that tale again. But the funny thing is that I rediscovered my passion for canoes and canoeing….for getting out to paddle….and now both the men that were so important in my development as a paddler are gone. No, not gone actually as they are with me in each stroke of my paddle.

I was lucky enough to spend over 100 days on the water last year….OK maybe not so much lucky as ‘underemployed’ LOL LOL….but I spent at least a couple of hours most days paddling….usually just a day trip….often just practicing my technique….and a few good trips to Algonquin, Massassauga and Temagami. This year I haven’t paddled quite as much….but my thoughts are never very far from my canoe or my paddle….if I’m not on the water, then I’m online writing a blog post or something on a canoe-related forum….or at the very least talking about canoes and canoeing….talking about paddling. Some may think I need to find a life (and maybe they’re right LOL LOL)….but I think I found my life….rediscovered who I am….what is important to me. I’m a paddler….maybe not the best paddler (I have a long way to go to ever be like Omer Stringer or Becky Mason or even Kirk Wipper)….and I may not be a kayaker like my Dad was (or even get out on the water as often as he did….but we did share a love for paddling)….and being in a canoe….with a paddle in my hand….that completes me….puts my life in balance (I know the old Native saying about having one foot in one canoe and the other in another, and how you are likely to fall in as a result….but hey I learned how to do a headstand in a  canoe from folks like Omer Stringer and Kirk Wipper….mind you that was a few years ago LOL LOL….now like E.B. White says: “For an old man, a canoe is ideal; he need only sit and move his arms”).

I have since sold the Minetta (it will soon be in its new home in Florida)….and I have a new favourite green canoe….my beautiful dream….that I love to paddle….together we just seem to ‘fit’….nothing more, nothing less….true we can dance together….in fact I’ve been told that this canoe makes me look good (and I need all the help I can get LOL LOL). But really any canoe is a means to simplifying your life….to slowing down….to taking your time. It is hard not to when you travel at your own own pace, under your own propulsion. Any canoe can take you to those special places.

   

Photos by yours truly.

Now I have often rambled on about paddling….about canoeing….in this blog. I don’t write trip reports….certainly not a day to day review of campsites and portages. I think others do that better than I can. But I have talked about the freedom that one can find….about how one can get closer to Nature….just about the sheer joy of paddling. I won’t bore you by rehashing all of that again….or even attempt to put fancy words down to try to better describe such experiences. Actually the simpler the words or the thoughts around canoes & canoeing….about paddling….maybe the better. After all paddling a canoe really is quite a simple thing to do….very basic….so maybe getting too ‘fancy’ about it gets away from the essentials of just paddling a canoe. True you can get ‘fancy’ in your paddling….or pi-daddling as some might call it….you can make your canoe literally dance, especially with some of the fancy moves that form Canadian Style paddling….but you can also ‘dance’ your canoe in a river, ferrying across the current, slipping into an eddy, or running a set of rapids….or just getting out for a tour of a local lake or wetlands. But the K.I.S.S. principle is never more evident in my opinion than in paddling a canoe. So keeping it simple is far from stupid.

I spend time online looking over other sites on canoes and canoeing….looking for other thoughts on paddling (often because I think others can describe the joy of paddling better than I ever could). One such site is The Canoe Camper, which has a great section of Stories and Articles. One story I thought I’d share a few passages from is Small Pleasures by Keith Bridgman:

Small Pleasures by Keith Bridgman

While the cool air of morning hovers over the quiet hours, is when I feel most at home, most in tune with where I am, while fatigue continues to invade my eyes. Before the rays of daylight evaporate the darkness, while the last remnants of the pre-dawn cling to life, how important are the moments spent drifting alone on the currents are then realized. It is the last calm before the day and the last silence of the morning that awakens me. More often than they should, the moment’s slip away unnoticed, until I look back and reflect on the experience. It is then my heart is warmed by what my eyes witnessed, and my thoughts drift affectionately to what was there, to the emotion of the moment, suspended on the glide of my canoe toward that rendezvous of time and place. It is good for the soul to do such things, for it is during those times, the gift of the small pleasures of life become real.

The sweet tone of the paddle keeping time with the swirls and eddies as the wooden blade presses against the water and propels the canoe silently over the surface is what I enjoy the most, and least, as muscles not recently used are again called into service. The perfected motion as the paddle is carefully raised at the end of each stroke, and caressed into place for the next, the obedient turn of the bow as a gentle brace is applied are such things from which I seldom tire. That first stroke of the morning, during the stillness, when the only sound is the muffled gurgling of the paddle, and when anticipation is highest, create the most enduring images. As each stroke blends with the next, their collective action becomes a special memory harboring its own significance, its own connection to that gift.

The solitude and calmness of spirit is what I seek while canoeing and few things offer a better blend of events to fulfill those ideals. I’ve grown to appreciate that concept more with age. The slow and simple method of drifting down a backcountry stream or across a secluded cove embraces the essence of those words. Often, the trials of making a living create a delinquency from the pursuit of those desires, but in retrospect, because of the gaps created by that delinquency, the experience generates even more pleasure on the few occasions I do get away….

Paddles up until later then….and may you find the small pleasures in paddling….well at least the simple pleasure that dipping a paddle can bring.

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