My old canoe. If there was anything or anyone in my life that was so neglected and abused as this old boat, I can't say. I remember the day that I bought it from its maker, Mr. William Coleman of Cambridge, Galt. He made sturdy canoes of hand laid fibreglass. It's been at least twenty years since I first tied it to the top of my Toyota Tercel and drove off in search of still lakes and meandering rivers.I once carried it on my head on a 5 kilometer portage to a tiny lake in Algonquin park. I stayed there with a friend for five days the weather was so beautiful. I remember sitting in our camp at night, the immense wilderness all around, and staring into our warm fire. I remember thinking that sitting in front of a fire in the dark uncertainty of night is one of the most human things that we do.
I love this old boat, I see beauty in it's lines, and grace in it's function.
My best memory of this canoe was paddling the Grand River on the still waters above the Parkhill dam. My wife Elaine sat at the bow, she was nine months pregnant, dipping her paddle every once and awhile. I paddled the J-stroke and brought us up river to the point where we floated adjacent to the Cambridge hospital. We both smiled at one another, we had an appointment there, our baby was to be delivered by Cesarean section the next day. Less than twenty four hours later I stood in the sun room at the hospital holding my new boy tightly swaddled. My gaze kept shifting between his perfect face, and the river of my own boyhood.
Moments like these in our lives make even the most practical person philosophical, The date was July,15,1999
3 comments:
what wonderful memories.
when my husband and i lived out in the country, we inherited a canoe from his brother, who moved to the city and could no longer keep it.
we never once used it, even though we lived just five minutes from a canoe launch. i had always wanted to.
then we moved back to town, and we had no where to store it, so we left it in the country—our neighbors took it gladly. i hope they are using it.
ours was red. i like the bright green color of yours (green is my favorite color).
hopefully you can take your son canoing and pass the tradition along. my husband and his brother and their dad took a few canoe trips in Canada in total wilderness. it sounded quited exhausting, but quite beautiful, too.
thanks for the nice comments on my blog. i'm just new to writing and have never considered myself good at it by any means. but there is only one way to get better, right?
hahahaha. funny you should say what you did about the sore throat thingy turning into i-feel-like-i-was-hit-by-a-train thingy, because when i woke up this morning, that is exactly what i thought—that i felt like i was hit by a train. :(
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