In Brief

Description

We made a cursory exploration of launch sites around Severn Bridge and Coopers Falls road with little success, all roads sporting “No Parking” signs, and all the shoreline taken up by cottages.

We took the exit off Highway 11 at Kilworthy Road, and followed South Kahshe Lake Road for about two miles or so, passing some rental chalets and crossing a bridge. Further down that road we seemed destined to meet only No Parking signs and cottages so, having spent/wasted the best part of an hour in that exercise earlier in the morning, we retraced our steps and parked in the grassy park on the south side of the road immediately west of the bridge.

We paid the $5 fee at the chalet, but got no receipt.

Launched we were and happy to be off!

A paddle upstream into the lake is thwarted by the weir under the bridge.

About half a kilometer into the downstream paddle we came to a small rapids, and attempted to shoot it, becoming stranded on the rocks, balanced precariously sideways to the current, waiting for a wave to toss us sideways into the chute.

Instead a cottager came to our rescue, pushed us off, and invited us to walk the canoe up his side of the creek on our way back.

Confident we could negotiate our return, we set off again with light hearts, only to find, half a kilometer further, a set of about six chutes, through which the river descended about fifty feet.

There was no way we could negotiate that, so we sat on a rock and ate our lunch, stretching the lunch break as long as possible.

Five minutes after starting back we were hauling the canoe back through the first rapids, and five minutes after that we were hauling the canoe out of the water.

A fun time together, with more than a frisson of excitement, but most unrewarding from our point of view. We are more used to paddling out about 1½ to 2 hours, and paddling back. At our age we call that a good paddle.

Half a mile out and half a mile back isn’t worth the four hours drive in the car!

Images

In the bush by the parking lot is a sad omen of the day ahead!

A view from our launch site looking North East towards the bridge. We had earlier crossed the bridge, from left (west) to right and driven a mile or so looking for alternative launch sites, with no success. The segment of lake, peeking through the bridge, is about two to three feet higher than our pond. Water pours over a man-made weir and a jumble of rocks.

Here’s a good shot of unbridled optimism. If we’d known then what we know now, we wouldn’t have unloaded the canoe.

We are still mastering the art of a trolling motor. Today’s trick was to lodge the battery in a plastic bag, and tie the bag handles to the canoe. Theory is, if we topple, the battery will drag the canoe to the bottom and we’ll never have to bother with the canoe again!

We push off, take a quick look at the bridge, then head downstream, bidding farewell to the parked car, anticipating a solid one to two hours of paddling through leafy glades, wild-life infested banks, and hours of melodious birdsong.

The view ahead. What it is to be alive on such a day!

What’s this ahead? Rapids? Not a problem. We creep closer to get a better look. On the right bank is a large “No Trespassing” sign. Two channels present themselves. We chose the right-hand channel, to our bitter regret. We could have chosen the left-hand channel to our bitter regret.

We stranded, sideways on to the current, on a ledge that was merely two inches below the surface. I can’t say that I was frightened, but I was terrified!

For about fifteen seconds I thought that the merest ripple would roll us over sideways into the torrent, I’d then hit my head on a rock and not survive to write about it.

We contemplated pushing off the ledge backwards and decided it was too risky. We contemplated pushing off the ledge forwards and decided it was too risky. In the end we decided to sit tight while a friendly cottager crossed the bridge and firmly pushed my front end to face downstream.

KerPlop! And we were safely launched downstream waving fond farewells of gratitude.

Once pushed off by our friendly cottager, we see ahead more rocks. Can’t be as bad as the ones we have just negotiated (literally!), right?

Wrong!

Wrong!

Wrong! Just how wrong can we be?

This wrong!

That wrong!

After lunch, on the 20-minute paddle back, I take a photo of what looks like a red snapdragon, but isn’t.

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