Familiar Waters

To complete Georgain Bay, Jon and I needed to come back to Wiarton (the place I injured my back) and paddle back to Honey Harbour. This part of the journey required much more planning as it is more developed and there are fewer places to camp. In less than two days, we managed to paddle from Wiarton to Owen Sound with a stop at Presqu'ile YMCA Rotary Youth Camp - the summer camp where Jonathan use to be the assistant director. The staff made us feel welcome as we enjoyed sharing dinner and campfire with everyone. We paddled into Owen Sound (Jon's hometown) to celebrate Canada Day! It is very nice to see many familiar faces who have stopped to visit with us.

Killarney's Famous Fish and Chips

En route to Killarney, we paddled past Phillip Edward Island - one of the larger islands in the region. The vistas in the area were spectacular because the LaCloche Mountain Range appeared in the background. This chain of hills is over 2 billion years old and is composed of pearl-colored quartzite.
The day was relatively calm however, the winds started to pick up in the afternoon. As we rounded the last stretch into Killarney, the winds picked up even more and we were caught in the midst of confused seas. We were tossed around a bit by the reflection waves reverberating off the shoreline. Normally, Jon and I would head into a safe cove or the lee of an island but Killarney's famous fish and chip stand was calling us. My parents and our dog Tess came to share the well deserved feast with us. For now, it's back to Wiarton to complete our final leg of Georgian Bay.

Eggspectations

Oatmeal seemed like the logical choice for breakfast on a canoe trip - it's light, packable and as grandma would say, "It sticks to your ribs." I like oatmeal but, after eating it for a few weeks, I wasn't stomaching the idea that it was the perfect breakfast food. I tried to make the oatmeal more appetizing by adding dried cranberries, blueberries, mango, raisins, almonds or peanut butter however, it still tasted like the same old oatmeal. What I really wanted for breakfast was eggs. Every morning my thoughts turned to omelet's, eggs Benedict or toad-in-the-hole. It didn't help that we had to paddle through a cluster of islands called the chickens. After paddling 40 kilometers one day, Jon and I stopped for a break at Hen Island. To our surprise and complete irony, one egg, brown in colour, was lying in the water on the sand beside our canoe. I picked up the egg and it appeared roughly the same size as a chicken's egg. We couldn't identify what type of bird could have laid such and egg or how old it was. I wanted to crack it open into a hot sizzling pan but my heart prevented me from doing so. I placed the egg into some low lying bushes and we paddled away. The next morning, to my dismay, we ate oatmeal yet again.