Going with the flow in Ontario
GREG Elmhirst, general manager of the Elmhirst Resort, has a theory why paddle sports are growing in popularity.
“People are turning more towards ‘silent sports’,” he observes. “We’re craving something more calm and relaxing,” he says.
The country celebrates its 150th anniversary this year, marking 150 years since the British North America Act was passed by British Parliament, marking the start of Canada’s new era as a self-governing federation. And there’s a lot to celebrate; from the late 19th century onwards, on the whole, Canada’s population and economy flourished, helped in no small part by the development of the railways.
But long before any of this was on track, Canada’s indigenous people were blazing trails of their own – hunting, trading, transporting goods, and simply getting from A to B with the help of their canoes.
I’m only here for a week so I’m sticking to Ontario, Greg’s in full agreement. “This area’s the centre of the canoe universe, false modesty aside,” he states.
And there’s much more besides canoeing here; there’s skating in winter, fishing, hiking trails, wine tasting, and float plane rides, so you can take in the views from the sky.
There’s a spa too, for a spot of pampering after all that outdoorsy fun, but if blissful calm is what you’re after, you need only venture a few feet from your bedroom.
The morning after my arrival, I plod into the kitchen, brew some coffee, then carry my mug a few grassy steps from my white-painted clad cottage to the lake and sit on a little wooden jetty, sipping as the sun rises.
Canada’s geography has a lot to do with the canoe’s importance. Look at a waterways map and you’ll quickly see that large proportions of Canada are aquatic, a maze of rivers and estuaries weaving between its prodigious lakes. While some very remote Northern communities still use canoes for hunting, trade and cargo purposes (though probably now with a motor attached!), the practice is diminishing.
Today, canoes are mainly objects of leisure, sport and exploration. More of those three things are on the itinerary for me, as I bid farewell to Elmhirst and head to Madawaska Kanu Centre in Barry’s Bay.
Thankfully, the wide, quiet roads are a dream, and since it’s early autumn when I visit, and the region’s foliage resembles Monet-like swathes of deep rust and gold-dotted green, the drive is a delight.
Madawaska Kanu Centre is another family-run spot, the world’s first dedicated white water paddling school, with weekend and five-day courses covering a range of skills and activities. Surrounded by forest, the main site is a big log chalet, while guests sleep in the simple-yet-comfortable cabin block next door.
I join a small group for a paddle masterclass with Bethany on nearby Mud Lake, a dreamy forest-flanked setting, twinkling beneath a perfect September-blue sky. Unlike a kayak, in canoes, you sit in a kneeling position, using your knees, core and upper-body to help steer and control the craft, as well as your paddle.
Of course, mastering all this can take years, but it’s utterly addictive.
Over lunch, Bethany tells me how she fell in love with canoeing as a child, but took a “sensible” option to study and pursue a career in design and computer technology.
“I had to figure out how to get back to the white water world. That was my authentic self, and I wanted to find a way back,” she recalls.
Sometimes, it really is about going with the flow...