Porters Lake Forest Fires: 2 years later

For my latest hike (map), myself and three friends went out to the area of the huge fire that devastated large swaths of forest and forced 5000 people from their homes. This was my first time seeing the damage up close, and it really was devastating. Stretching for kilometers in all directions are bare, soot stained sticks, where there was once a forest. 

The hike took us along some back roads, well travelled by local ATVs.  We crossed streams and rivers, and were flanked by lakes most of the time.  The weather was ideal, partly sunny, cool but not cold for this time of year, and a layer of fresh snow.  The lakes were just frozen enough to look passable, but as my feet quickly found out, were not.  Anyone doing winter hiking around lakes should take the time to look up the local ice thickness report before hand.

We decided to venture off the beaten path for an hour of hardcore bush whacking.  It's always fun to challenge yourself and test the limits of you're new equipment.  My boots and pants passed the test, fighting off 4 or 5 soakers, and providing good traction and warmth.  I can't stress enough the importance of good waterproof, breathable hiking boots.  Running shoes are fine for gravel pathways, but for serious hiking, you need equally serious footwear. As always, layers of clothing are key. This day I went with a long sleeve, thin, moisture wicking shirt, with a lightweight cotton/wool mix long sleeve shirt over that, and my 2 layer winter jacket on top.  My pants are fleece lined snowboarding type with elastic cuffs which fit over my mid-shin high waterproof winter boots.  With temperatures slightly below zero to start off the day I wore all layers, but when the mid-morning sunshine came out I took off my middle layer, unzipped my jacket and took off my hat and gloves to avoid overheating or working up a big sweat (something you want to avoid in winter).  It was great to be out in the fresh air and sunshine, while being very comfortable and warm.  One thing i neglected to bring was sunglasses, which would have been good to protect my eyes from snow and ice glare. 

With the fresh layer of snow, it was easy to see lots of tracks, including deer, rabbit and coyote. The snow also provided a beautiful cosmetic layer to cover a lot of the devastation from the fires.  Instead of looking like a burned out wasteland, it had taken on a surreal beauty.  In the two years since the fires, new growth has begun in abundance. This hike was great because it really contrasts the destructive power and resilience of mother nature.  New growth was already 3-4 feet high. 

After an hour of bush-whacking we came upon a small hunting camp, and decided to pay a visit.  The camp was clean, and well maintained.  A greeting note on the table laid out rules and invited visitors to stay.  It is great to see this kind of thing.  The people who wrote the note and maintain the log book have no problem with responsible people visiting their camp and in fact encourage it by providing their contact info so you can phone ahead to see if the camp will be available at a certain time.  I won't give any info on the camp, because I like to encourage people to find their own hidden gems and respect the code of conduct. Clean up, replace anything you use, leave only useful items, and don't advertise the location.

The hike was great, the scenery was great, but the best part of all was the renewed confidence in the resilient power of mother nature, and the qualities of sharing and trust in human nature. VIDEO

Getting to know Hemlock Ravine Park

Chances are if you've never visited Hemlock Ravine Park, or been there once years ago, you are in the majority of HRM residents.  Everyone knows and loves Point Pleasant Park, and the Public Gardens, but Hemlock Ravine is their unassuming, lesser-known cousin.  Most people (like myself) know very little about the park. Some likely don't know of its existence, others may know it exists but are un-sure exactly where it is.  Others know of the heart-shaped pond, or the white round house off of the Bedford Highway. The round house has always had a mystique to me since I was a youngster, perhaps because it is in such an odd spot, or perhaps it was because the only history I knew of it was that a man once went insane in there because he could not find a corner to pee in (my mother's idea of a history lesson).   I don't think I'm alone in my lack of knowledge about Hemlock Ravine Park, and only recently have I become well acquainted with what is one of the most naturally beautiful parts of the city.  Allow me to (re)introduce you to Hemlock Ravine Park:

Part 1: History. aka what is that little round white house on the bedford highway, and who built the heart-shaped pond?

In 1780, Nova Scotia's Lieutenant Governor, John Wentworth resided on the grounds.  Wentworth happens to be the same man who built the current Goverment House on Barrington Street. In 1794, Prince Edward, Duke of Kent arrived in Halifax to command the garrison.  Wentworth then lent the estate to him, where he and his French mistress, Julie St. Laurent lived.  Edward turned the grounds into heavily landscaped pleasure gardens, built ornamental temples, waterfalls, a grotto and a pond (originally larger than the current one, and oval shaped).   The retreat was the social center of the colony for the local elite, and activities included garden parties, picnics, concerts, and winter skating parties on the pond after sleigh rides from Halifax. In 1800, Edward and St. Laurent left Halifax, and the grounds were turned over to Governor Wentworth, who moved out shortly, and the grounds fell into disrepair but remained popular with locals for its natural beauty and ideal setting for a country picnic.  When Prince Arthur (Prince Edward's Grandson) arrived in Halifax in 1869, he re-shaped the pond into its current heart shape, in dedication to the 27 years that Prince Edward and Julie St. Laurent spent together.   By the 1950s, all that remained of the original estate was the muddy pond, and one decorative temple; the round music rotunda.

Part 2: What is so good about it now?

After learning the history, you may think that there is no reason to go there now, as it may have been spectacularly beautiful when it was built, but now all that is left is a couple of small reminders.  However, if you want to witness some spectacular gardens all you have to do is visit Halifax's Public Gardens.  If you want to witness some beautiful old, untouched nature, there are very few places in the entire province that you can do this, let alone in the city.  The reason Hemlock ravine is so beautiful now isn't because of anything that The Duke of Kent did, it's what he and the early settlers of Halifax didn't do that make the park the gem it is today.  Since the grounds were protected from the early settlement of Halifax, the trees were not cut down to supply the garrison, unlike the rest of the city (excluding Point Pleasant Park).  While virtually the entire province's forest has been cut down and re-grown generation after generation, Hemlock Ravine is one of a handful of places where this hasn't happened.  As a result, 300 year old, 80ft Hemlocks can be seen in the park, as well as numerous other flora and fauna that you are unlikely to see elsewhere around the city.  Halifax is known as the city of trees, but to see un-touched old growth forest is a rarity throughout the entire province.. You can visit Hemlock Ravine, quickly forget you are in the city, and be re-acquainted with nature all within a 15 minute drive of most of the HRM. 

Part 3: Nature

The city of Halifax has owned the 200 acre grounds since 1977.  The treasures contained in the park include 300 year old Hemlock trees which grow along the banks of the Ravine.  The Eastern Hemlock tree can live up to 450 years, and can be identified by their droopy, feathery, dark green, flat needle foliage in flat sprays of branches and their unusually small cones.  It was once dominant throughout Nova Scotia, but extensive logging greatly reduced their numbers and all but eliminated old stands. Fortunately, when given the chance, they do re-generate easily.  Hemlocks are considered a soft wood, but are actually incredibly hard.  Natives made a poultice (a medicinal, warm compress) from the inner bark, and early settlers made hemlock tea to induce sweating (not to be confused with the poison that Socrates drank, which is from an un-related herb.)

The undergrowth of the park is not typical of an old-growth forest, there are however small pockets of climax conifer forest of the quartzite barrens.  Look for painted trillium (endangered, do not pick)  in the mossy carpet of the spruce trees in June. Hobblebush grows here, as well as elderberry in the fall. In the northern part of the park, which has been hit by numerous fires in the past, there is a growth of red maple trees.

Animals include red squirrels and white tailed deer. flying squirrels, raccoons, red foxes and owls have also been sited.

Part 4: Go there, explore, enjoy, relax, appreciate, and be sure to look upward.

Hemlock Ravine Links:  Photos , Video, Park Info

Cape Breton

It has been a while since I had last visited Cape Breton, and as the summer wound down, I decided I needed to do a few "summerly" things before the great weather passed without anything significant to remember it by.  My friend's family has a cottage in East Bay, on the Bras D'ors lake, and it had been a couple of years since both he and I visited.

The drive to Cape Breton is always enjoyable in the summer, as the scenery gets progressively better the further you go.  Entering Antigonish County, "the highland heart of Nova Scotia" you begin to get a feel for the highland landscape, and begin to see the Celtic heritage that Nova Scotia is rooted in. Past this point, anywhere you go at any given time, you are likely to hear bagpipes, fiddles and people indulging in a few spirited drinks at a local ceilidh or festival.  

In the words of local Cape Bretoners; the day the Canso Causeway was constructed, was the day that Canada joined Cape Breton.  That statement gives you a perfect insight into the sense of humour and pride present within them all.  To this day, the causeway provides a landmark which crosses into beautiful scenery, great people,  proud culture and storied history. 

The arrival at my friends cottage is met with extreme relaxation and summertime good feelings, and an urge to do absolutely nothing.  Upon arrival in Cape Breton, it is customary to first visit the liquor store, and stock up on Gaelic celebration fuel (beer, whisky and wine).  Once set up at the cottage, all that was left to do was unpack, put beer in the fridge, locate the most comfortable deck chair, and take some deep breaths of the warm salty air.  The Bras D'ors lakes are not what we are used to when we think of lakes.  They are salt water, and the largest of their kind in the world ( According to myself? ).  Boating and swimming in the lake was fantastic, warm like most lakes in August, salty like the ocean, and endlessly large. Since the lake is salt water, many salt water fish live here.  Jigging for cod is something you can't do in any other lake, and something I am equally unsuccessful at regardless of location. 

Our days were spent on and around the lake, exploring islands, swimming, fishing and boating.  The water was as warm as a heated pool, the rugged hills were a deep green, the sky a light blue, and the calm dark waters of the lake reflected a couple of eagles who were cruising with the clouds above.  There was no choice but to be 100% relaxed.  Even the cottage is a thing a beauty. It was built over 200 years ago, by a couple of brothers from New England who ran a farm here in the summers, and returned to new England as ship builders in the winters.  The cottage is constructed just as you would imagine 19th century expert ship builders and master craftsmen would.  The ceilings look like the deck of an old sailing ship, banisters and stairs are made of thick dark wood, each piece of wood hand milled, carved and joints made without glue or nails.  It's not hard to imagine being under sail on the Atlantic, with the smell of the salt water and the look of finely crafted woodwork. 

The evenings were spent in true Cape Breton fashion, enjoying many fine beverages and having nothing but good times.  You don't have to travel far, or travel at all to find a celebration.  If you're lucky you will stumble on a good old fashion Ceilidh, complete with fiddler, bagpipes and a culture of people who have been partying this way since their Gaelic ancestors settled here in the 1700s.   

Waking up after an evening of heavy drinking, to a level which is unacceptable in most social settings, is both expected and embraced in Cape Breton.  In our case we had a miracle, all-natural remedy for hangovers.  A large cool, fresh, waterfall 5 minutes down the road provided an instant cure, and with a bar of soap, I was ready to take on another day. 

No trip to Cape Breton is complete without exploring the Cabot Trail and the surrounding Highlands National Park.  The Cabot Trail is a world renowned route, first used by European explorer John Cabot, and now a mecca for people looking for a world-class scenic drive.  You can quickly see how huge the tourism industry is here, but you also quickly see how it is hugely different.  It's easy to see tourist traps and people looking to make a quick buck at any popular destination around the world.  The places are usually run by "friendly" people who are more than happy to take your money.  Cape Breton has no shortage of tourist friendly spots, but these spots are different, and it's the people that make them different.  You begin to realize that the friendliness of the people you encounter is not because they want your money, or because they know you're a tourist and want you to have a good impression.  They'd just as soon have a good conversation or share a joke, and treat you the same way they'd treat locals.  Being genuine is part of the culture here. 

The drive itself is absolutely spectacular, and no videos , photos or descriptions can do it justice.  The large rolling green hills, and the blue ocean, provide some spectacular views.  There is no shortage of fantastic places to eat, shop, golf, hike, and stay along the way, as well as many small towns and communities steeped in Gaelic, Native and Acadian history.  The town of Cheticamp is a great example of the combination of natural beauty, culture, and history boasted throughout Cape Breton. The town itself is surrounded by green mountains, and borders the ocean.  The people are french speaking Acadians, and have managed to hold onto and celebrate their language and culture amid an English speaking province.  (I highly recommend the seafood chowder, while seated on a patio).

Cape Breton once again left me re-aligned.  You really can't go wrong with a spring/summer or fall visit to Cape Breton.  Whether you're looking to hike, camp, drive, bike, kayak, fish, golf, dine, drink, or just explore, this is where you need to go.  Cape Breton is a lot of things to a lot of people, but one thing it is to everyone is beautiful. Cape Breton is equal parts natural and cultural beauty and deserves its designation by National Geographic as one of the top two places in the world for sustainable tourism.

Links: My Photos  Newest Video  Older Video

 

Keji

When it comes to camping, Nova Scotia has plenty to offer. Anywhere you go, it seems you're never far from a campground. Camping is a way of life, and a rite of passage for any outdoor loving nova scotian. When you think camping in nova scotia, one place comes to mind above all others. Kejimkujik National Park is the pride and joy of Nova Scotia's outdoors.

While most of the provinces forests are nothing more than tree farms, where one species of trees is planted and harvested every 20 years, there are a few places where you can see what our forests are supposed to look like. Point Pleasant Park, Hemlock Ravine, Keji and the Highlands National Park in Cape Breton are the handful of places where you can actually see a forest that has been untouched (save for hurricane Juan's devistation to Point Pleasant).



I had been wanting to re-visit Keji for a long time, and this summer I finally did. Myself and two friends woke up early one Saturday morning and decided to head out, spur of the moment. We called the park before we left to make sure there were camp sites available, and the friendly person on the other end of the phone assured us there was, and that she could help us plan everything out when we got there. 2.5 hours from Halifax later, we arrived at the visitor centre and laid out our plans. We wanted to do some back country camping, where the journey would be a major part of the trip. As young men we were capable of handling any of the physical challenges that we may encounter. Long portage routes, long paddles and hikes were all right up our alley. The two friendly women at the counter considered our requests as well as our time frame (a 24 hour visit) and came up with the perfect site for us. Sure enough, it was all of that and more.

We started the adventure at the boat rental, where we rented one kayak and one canoe. We used the time honoured tradition of rock paper scissors to decide who would be in which boat. The boat rental place usually includes drop off and pickup as part of its services, but where we were headed and where we would return were not on their usual route, so we used the supplied roof straps and made a couple of trips to our launch point. Right away, it became evident that our portage skills were very rusty. Our first attempt included carrying a canoe full of supplies, and manhandling a kayak. After about 20 meters this attempt failed. We re-grouped and determined we would be better off emptying all of the gear and supplies and making one trip with them and returning to make a second trip to carry the boats. If we were early Canadian fur traders, we would have been fired on the spot. We struggled to find a good way to carry the boats, and ended up just bearing down and battling mentally and physically. The canoe wasn't too bad between the two of us, but the kayak was still a real challenge for our friend, who is not challenged in the strength department.

Once the initial portage was done, we took a break, drank a deserving beer, and took in the sights. Lush green forest, and a large dark blue lake, perfect weather, and lots of birds chirping. As I looked around I began to notice the differences between the forest here and the forest we are used to. The amount and diversity of trees, plants, birds and animals was enormously different than elsewhere.

We set out on our paddle, relaxed, taking in the beautiful weather and calmness. The lakes in Keji can sometimes have some pretty fierce headwinds, making the paddling a real challenge. luckily today was not one of those days. The first lake took us about an hour to paddle, and as we reached the end we disembarked and began to mentally prepare for another fairly long 800 meter portage (it sounds a lot shorter when you don't have a canoe on your head). The portage was long, but we had our strategy perfected now, and we reached the end, exhausted, but excited at the new scenery. A calm inlet, complete with lilly pads and yellow flowers sitting on the perfectly smooth water. To our friend, an avid fly fisherman, this was what we came for. The fly reels were quickly deployed, as I opened a beer and took my camera out to really examine the surroundings. The park sells fishing licenses for the back country areas, for 10 dollars per day, and they only apply to certain spots in the back country. But we were happy to pay for it, as we weren't even sure if you would be allowed to fish here, since everything is so highly protected.

After our long but relatively unsuccessful fishing break (I didn't even bother trying), we loaded up the boats and headed off for the last leg of our journey. The inlet opened into a wide and winding river, where the wildlife was teeming. Within minutes, we encountered a couple of beavers who were quick to let us know we were now in their territory, by splashing the water with their tail in an attempt to scare the crap out of us as we daydreamed. The river was very slow and calm, and the weather was perfect. I'm not sure how long this journey would normally take, but we definitely were not making record time. As the sun began to approach the horizon we realized that maybe we should shift out of relax mode and get a push on to the end of the river. After every bend we were sure the end was in sight, but it was impossible to tell. About an hour after our first guess that the end was around the next corner, we finally reached the end of the river, and our camping site destination. The sun was slowly setting and we set up our tent and got our gear out. We couldn't have timed it any better as far as getting some great sunset photos and some last minute fishing. I quickly noticed a bird which seemed to be heading towards us, but not really moving at all. I realized that it was actually just hovering in mid-air like a hummingbird. This bird however was the size of a seagull and was actually hunting for fish. Incredible. I have no clue what kind of bird this is, and I've never seen one in my 30 years here, which says a lot about Keji. When it got dark, the wildlife kept surprising. Bats cruised up and down the river feasting on flies, and a couple of very large owls had fun making some startling noises that had us running away and reaching for our knives, like true city slickers. We were truly on our own out here, we could not see another camp fire or light anywhere. All we heard was animals, and though the sky was somewhat overcast, the stars were still immensely more impressive than what we are used to.

All in all, it was a fantastic trip, and lived up to all of my expectations. I wished we had more time to spend there, as you could easily spend many days exploring the huge park. A multi-day, multi-camp site loop around the park would be ideal. I was very impressed by the park, and the people who run it. It is great to see the extent that all of the volunteers and workers in the park are willing to go to to protect every species within it. If you live in Halifax, you are no stranger to speed bumps.... and Keji is no exception. The speed bumps at Keji, however, are to protect an endangered species of turtles, who nest nearby the main road. The turtles are studied and cared for by the park staff and by volunteers. There are many people who contribute to the park, and it really shows. If you have never been, or haven't been in years, you owe it to yourself to visit Keji whether its for a day or a week. Click here for the video from my trip.

Unfinished Business (free rant included!)

With all of the beautiful early spring weather we have been having for the month of March, I immediately began to plan a camping outing. Tops on the list was to take on some unfinished business and head to the hunting camp in Enfield (see previous post "men vs wild"). The last excursion was so enjoyable that I just had to do it a second time. This time I tripled the amount of maps, and studied the map like an old foe. The battle plan was set, and the weather was spectacular. It was easy to convince the same friends of mine who were a part of the last survival adventure, and were allies with a common enemy. In a foreboding set of circumstances, we again left for our adventure at around 2 o'clock due to prior engagements for one of us.

The departure time proved to be the only similarity to the last outing. The back roads seemed to be in pretty good condition, as far as extremely back country logging roads go. I had the assumption that we wouldn't be able to drive in any significant distance, but for once I was wrong with no negative ramifications. I carefully navigated each dip, hole, mud puddle and crumbling culvert while saved hiking time piled up in the back of my head. 20 minutes later, we reached the familiar high voltage power lines and I decided my station wagon had come sufficiently far enough out of its element.

We geared up feeling great about the hour of hiking we just saved. Last time we hiked up this part of the trail we had a bitterly cold headwind slapping us in the face while we inched up the hill. Today, it was sunny and warm, and early enough in the season that there were no bugs. As a former tree planter who's seen the worst the outdoors has to offer, these conditions were ideal. Our gear was still heavy enough to keep us focused on the objective, which was the elusive cabin in the middle of the woods. This time we were positive we were making the right turns and heading in the right direction, but a couple of hours later we worried that we underestimated the distance and difficulty of the hike. Just as our bodies began to break down, we reached the end of our path, spirits were high, as the land became familiar and I knew that when the path ended we were to head into the dense woods and put our lives in the hands of the coordinates on my GPS. The road indeed did end, but a new road continued.... a road to hell.

The new road was a familiar one to me, one I had seen everyday for 4 summers tree planting. It was a skidder track, which led into a huge clear cut, a clear-cut where the dense woods surrounding the cabin used to be. My heart quickly sunk and I made plans for once again sleeping outdoors, while holding back some seething anger. Surely the cabin was shown about as much respect as the rest of the land, and had been cut down, chopped up, spit out and stomped on. Nevertheless we followed the GPS which said the cabin was 200 meters straight ahead.... in the tree graveyard. Luckily the farther we went the closer we got to a clump of trees which had been spared. In that section of trees was our GPS target. We headed into the trees and did some bushwhacking, eventually coming upon our oasis. The elusive cabin was alive! It stood defiant and welcoming, the extremely rustic facade almost winking at us. We rejoiced in an exhausted manor, and quickly put all of our gear in the cabin and did all of the work that we needed to do for a night of extreme relaxation. It was a beautiful night, and the nature around the cabin was superb; including babbling brook as well as some large old trees which had been spared through a couple generations of tree massacres.

I couldn't help but be angered by the complete and utter devastation of the area. It was odd, because I had spent 4 summers working in clear-cuts, but this one was especially offensive. My previous visit to the cabin involved a half hour of bushwhacking, and was a secret hideaway in the heart of the woods. The woods were now completely gone. This time the walk was over the rotting carcass of what was the woods I knew. This destruction had a personal meaning to me this time, as it was land I had known before it was destroyed. I had always known that Nova Scotia's forestry industry was a dirty secret of the province, and that our "woods" were really nothing more than tree farms, to be harvested every 20 years. It was a lot more difficult to shrug this fact off now, and really made me realize how badly we treat our environment.

Nova Scotia has no real "forests", what we have are tree farms, mostly softwood plantations. We plant soft wood because it grows quickly and can be harvested quickly. Our woods looked nothing like this in the old days. It is completely unnatural to have forests of completely softwood, yet that is what we have, and not many people realize it. The only real forests we have are in our provincial parks. Point Pleasant Park, Kejimkujik, and Highlands in Cape Breton are our only real forests, because they have been protected for generations. If you get a chance to visit one of these areas, and you compare the forest there, to what you see on the side of the highway, you can begin to appreciate just how unnatural our forests really are.

Clear-cuts are universally frowned upon, and offend everyone. The province has so many, that it eventually had to install new regulations as a result of so many complaints, many coming from visiting tourists who commented on all of the clear-cuts they saw as they drove across the province. The new regulations weren't to curtail the cutting, nor to harvest wood in a more sustainable and ecologically sensitive way. The regulations stated that clear cuts could not begin within 20 meters of any roads or highways, as well as a 10 meter buffer zone beside any body of water. The result was to hide our dirty secret. Now you can drive down the highway and have no idea that behind what you think is a forest, is immensely more damaging than any hurricane or explosion this province has ever seen.

There is a huge economic and political aspect to this issue, and I can appreciate the fact that completely curtailing clear-cutting would have huge ramifications on many people. What really bothers me is that this issue does not get any media coverage, no debates or discussions. Most people are completely unaware. The people who are aware are people with similar experiences. People who are accustomed to a certain area they loved to explore as a kid.... or have a certain attachment to, and then one day, they go to visit it, and see that it has been destroyed. It's likely only after an experience like that that you can truly appreciate how poorly we are treating our forests.

After a night in the cabin, we fired up the wood stove and had breakfast, which tastes roughly twice as good when you are camping. Each thing you throw on the grill, put on your plate, or in your cup is one less thing you have to carry out. Guilt-free eggs, bacon and sausage are the best way to get your spirits and your energy up in a hurry. We then went out to chop some wood to replace what we had used. Luckily wood was not hard to find here, and came in the form of pre-cut piles. We closed up the camp, and headed back home. The return trip is always more enjoyable because you know where you're going, know what to expect, and your pack is no longer a burden thanks to your digestive system. The trip came to an end as we reached the car, and as I turned the key and the engine started, I officially deemed the outing a success. Unfinished business, no more.

Tubing: It's awesome.

The weatherman…. weatherperson…… The meteorologist called for a 30 degree beauty yesterday, which really puts the pressure on to come up with a great thing to do.  I'd been pondering the idea of taking a inflatable snow tube, or a 15 dollar Canadian tire blow up boat and putting it in to the lazy river I had so much success fishing at in Beaverbank.  I wasn't sure if this would actually turn out to be a good idea or not. What were the unforeseen problems with putting a small inflatable, intended for small children, into a river I hadn't fully explored? There was only one way to find out.
We headed out in the afternoon, after stopping so my friend could purchase a brand spanking new sportcraft 5000 (15 dollars at Canadian Tire), a vessel that would make any 5 year old jealous.  The walk to the river itself requires a few hundred meters of wet, muddy marsh walking through some tall grass.  We hadn't been properly prepared for this part, as our nike air’s became nike swamps. When we reached our destination, we inflated our crafts.  The inflating process took some effort, even with our heavy duty pump.
When my tube was inflated fully, I put my tube into the river, gathered my gear, and looked at it for a while.  My friend did the same. Hmmm. What would be the best way to get into this craft for people over the age of 5? After some mental modelling, I went for it. My butt successfully planted into the middle of the tube, the queen broke a champagne bottle across its hull, and I was off for my maiden voyage.  I looked back to see how my friend was getting along, when I see a large man, laying face first into his boat afraid to make any more sudden movements.  The next moments were sure to bring some good entertainment, so I quickly grabbed for my camera.  We discussed the situation for a while, as he pitched questions to me with his voice muffled by a face full of rubber.  When he regrouped ashore, I recommended a butt first approach.  He landed it cleanly and the voyage was truly underway. 
This was awesome. Things were looking great. Some cold beer to drink, and nothing to do but float.  The outing was at least as good or better than I had imagined it could be, and I highly recommend doing it. 
It took us just under 2 hours to go along a good stretch of the river, without actually travelling too far from where we started, thanks to the river's "S" shape, and very slow moving current. Spending 15 dollars for a little inflatable, and finding a suitably lazy river makes for a day well spent.  Be sure to check out the Google map location of this river, and beware that the journey to and from the river to the road isn't easy, but isn't overly difficult either. Keep an eye out for beavers and be respectful of the area. You can see some cool sticks carved by the beavers, as well as a couple of them popping up keeping an eye on you, as we saw a couple, looking jealous. Check out the video here !

Fishing Update

Last week I headed out to a river in Sackville with my brother, for lucky? visit #3. My sister in-law had done what has taken us a month to do, which is to locate all kinds of fish. Earlier that day she had gone for a walk and noticed fish jumping all over the place in the river. When we hear that fish have been spotted, we quickly move in to disperse them.

As we pulled into a parking lot near our spot, another car pulled up to us and asked us if we had fished that particular spot before. We said we hadn’t and the guy said that he had, and that there is some good fishing to be had in there. We contained our enthusiasm and thanked him for telling us. As we started to walk in, a car pulled out and the guy stopped to tell us that there were tons of fish in there, and he pulled out a bag full of ones he had just caught. We could hardly wait another minute to get to the river, and refrained from a full out sprint. Today was definitely the day, and we were sure we would soon be pulling fish out of the river within the first cast or two.

I suddenly thought of something I had never even considered before: do we have a container to put in all the fish we catch? I asked my brother, he looked at me, smiled, and said he also hadn’t even considered this. It was a problem to be addressed later, for now we were concerned about getting our hooks in the water as quickly as possible. The spot looked ideal. I couldn’t wait see what happened when I did my first cast of the evening. It turns out I could wait. I waited a lot. I waited until it got dark, and cold.

A few desperation casts were all that was left of my evening, but with one of them, something I had never seen before. A fish chasing after my hook, nibbling on it, glancing up at me, laughing, and then swimming away. I couldn’t believe my almost luck. As it turns out, this was just another insult to injury. I packed up my stuff, told my brother I was going to go get the car, while he fished for a few more minutes. I walked off slowly, pondering the reasons for my latest failure. A while later my brother emerges, fish in hand. I thought it was surely a gag. It wasn’t. He had caught a fish, just shortly after I left. Schools of fish were jumping around everywhere immediately after I left. What does this mean? It is obviously an omen.

Beware the day I do catch a fish, as it sure to signal the coming of the next anti-christ.