We spent the night in Windsor at our friends Bob and Magda's house. There they treated us to a perogie feast, hot showers, wonderful conversation and a comfortable bed for the night. After sleeping in the tent for the past month, I couldn't help but feel like I was floating on a cloud as I dozed off to sleep.
The next morning, as we started our journey toward the Detroit River, we heard a loud crack from the stern of the canoe with a troubling announcement from Jon, "I think my seat is broken again." I couldn't help but laugh teasing, "You ate too many perogies last night!" We examined the boat and found that the same seat bracket that broke earlier in the trip, which was repaired at Sauble Beach on Lake Huron, needed to be fixed again. We strung a loop of webbing around the canoe and through the seat to hold it into place until further work could be done.
As we paddled downstream, we were surprised at the number of people waving at us from the shore. One man persistently motioned us in, telling us that he read about our journey in the Windsor Star newspaper. His name was Terry and he was a member of the Essex County Canoe and Kayak Club. As we spoke to him, he was actively on his cell phone recruiting people for a barbecue further downstream. We were to meet a group of paddlers at Camp Swampy, where we would be able to set up our tent for the night at Don and Marlene's property, and be able to repair our boat with the expertise of Gilles, one of the most amazing skin-on frame boat builders that we have ever had the chance to meet.
The beauty of the Detroit River surprised us as we paddled further downstream near Fighting Island. While canoeing with several members of the club, Don enthusiastically told us about the success story of the region. The reclamation of industrial dumping grounds, the return of fish like the sturgeon and whitefish as well as seeing a young bald eagle in its nest, were all signs that the river is much healthier.
At the camp, Gilles repaired Jon's seat with a very heavy duty bracket that even a large plate of perogies couldn't wear through. We happily enjoyed sharing canoeing stories as we feasted on a great many dishes free from the worry of breaking the canoe seat yet again.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
A Pretty Great Lake
Nestled in between the St. Clair River and the Detroit River is a comparatively smaller lake. Named by French explorers in the late 1600's, Lake St. Clair has never been granted the same "Great Lake" status as the other five. Locals from the region, laugh as they say, "It's not a Great Lake, but a pretty Good Lake!"
From a bird's eye view, Lake St. Clair looks heart shaped and acts as a vital organ protecting the overall health of the Great Lakes ecosystem. The remaining wetlands of the northern shore act as important filters for the water flowing downstream. From our canoe, we could see the lake was teaming with fish as we watched dozens jump out of the water in front of our canoe. Sitting next to the lake one night, we made friends with a local fisherman who surprised us by catching the largest Gar Pike we had ever seen.
Before paddling Lake St. Clair, Jon and I assumed that the lake wouldn't be much of a challenge. After all, it isn't even a "Great Lake." One morning, as waves crashed over our canoe, we quickly realized that Lake St. Clair should be treated with as much respect and caution as any other Great Lake. That day we learned that the lake you don't respect is the one that will teach you to respect it. Fortunate to have found a safe harbour at Belle River Marina, we spent the entire windbound day exploring the area by bicycles which the friendly staff at the marina lent to us. The marina also provided us with a place to pitch our tent and we felt quite safe knowing that their security guard, Fletcher, was looking after the property throughout the night. We were actually happy to be windbound because it allowed us the opportunity to learn about a truly "Great" lake instead of just "a pretty good one."
From a bird's eye view, Lake St. Clair looks heart shaped and acts as a vital organ protecting the overall health of the Great Lakes ecosystem. The remaining wetlands of the northern shore act as important filters for the water flowing downstream. From our canoe, we could see the lake was teaming with fish as we watched dozens jump out of the water in front of our canoe. Sitting next to the lake one night, we made friends with a local fisherman who surprised us by catching the largest Gar Pike we had ever seen.
Before paddling Lake St. Clair, Jon and I assumed that the lake wouldn't be much of a challenge. After all, it isn't even a "Great Lake." One morning, as waves crashed over our canoe, we quickly realized that Lake St. Clair should be treated with as much respect and caution as any other Great Lake. That day we learned that the lake you don't respect is the one that will teach you to respect it. Fortunate to have found a safe harbour at Belle River Marina, we spent the entire windbound day exploring the area by bicycles which the friendly staff at the marina lent to us. The marina also provided us with a place to pitch our tent and we felt quite safe knowing that their security guard, Fletcher, was looking after the property throughout the night. We were actually happy to be windbound because it allowed us the opportunity to learn about a truly "Great" lake instead of just "a pretty good one."
Gentle Giants
Our first night on the St. Clair River was spent docked at Sarnia Bay Marina. The employees welcomed us in our little canoe and couldn't believe how far we had managed to paddle. The further we travel, the more we enjoy watching people's jaw dropping expressions when we tell them where we started our journey.
As I looked downstream from the marina, towards the industrial heartland of Sarnia, I couldn't help but feel apprehensive about the amount of ship traffic we were going to encounter. Our experience from previous summers has taught us to avoid paddling close to large freighters. The steep walls of the ship allow waves to reflect off of them producing large and confused seas. At this point, we had only paddled next to ships that were docked and I had no idea how we would manage to paddle with moving freighters.
The following day, we were surprised at the gentle wake generated by the passing ships and after having a large 1000 footer pass by our canoe we aptly named the freighters - "The Gentle Giants." As the day wore on, I even mustered up the courage to touch the bow of one of the freighters. It was docked of course.
As I looked downstream from the marina, towards the industrial heartland of Sarnia, I couldn't help but feel apprehensive about the amount of ship traffic we were going to encounter. Our experience from previous summers has taught us to avoid paddling close to large freighters. The steep walls of the ship allow waves to reflect off of them producing large and confused seas. At this point, we had only paddled next to ships that were docked and I had no idea how we would manage to paddle with moving freighters.
The following day, we were surprised at the gentle wake generated by the passing ships and after having a large 1000 footer pass by our canoe we aptly named the freighters - "The Gentle Giants." As the day wore on, I even mustered up the courage to touch the bow of one of the freighters. It was docked of course.
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