Yesterday, for the first time since we started the Loop last September, we reached the land of rocks! The American inland rivers offered silt, the coasts of Florida mostly sand with a bit of coral, the Carolinas to New Jersey--sand, and the rivers and canals up the Hudson through Vermont, Quebec, and Ontario mostly silt and mud.
But, yesterday, we traveled through Clear Lake--limestone based without a hint of an island or rock--and into Stony Lake--gateway to the Canadan shield--which is studded with granite--rocky islands, glacial erratics, and other giant boulders both above and below the water. It's time to make especially sure that we're in the right channel or anchorage!
Arriving at Stony Lake held special meaning for us as we were able to meet up with our close friends Sandy Paige and Meg Arnold. Sandy and Meg met us at Lock 27, rode through the lock with us, and then escorted Katahdin to a quiet anchorage across from Meg's family's summer home. Meg's grandfather bought the home on Eagle Mount Island's most southwesterly point in the early 1950s and, understandably, it holds a
lifetime of memories for Meg and an increasing number of memories for Sandy. In fact, as we were heading to the anchorage, we passed St. Peter's Church-on-the-Rock, established in 1914, where Meg and Sandy married. They treated us to a wonderful dinner that premiered as Meg's niece Pippa's birthday party. And, we fortunately met Meg's sister, author Katie Arnold, who wrote Brief Flashings in the Phenomenal World, one of the better books I've read in the last year or two.
Apparently on Stony Lake, one of a group of lakes known as the Kawartha Lakes, it wouldn't be a birthday (or perhaps even dinner) without multiple tubs of Kawartha Ice Cream. As we neared the Trent-Severn and even along the route, various friends and lock keepers have told us that Kawartha Ice Cream is a to die for must have treat. Last night, we learned why. Our group of demolished a couple of tubs and, as I write, Meg and the Admiral are out on a mercy mission to acquire more for this evening. Sure hope they get moose tracks.
In life, good things take effort. Monday, we traveled almost 40 miles through only two locks to reach Peterborough Marina from Hastings. Although there were still camps, second homes, and even a couple of villages along the way, much of the route offered
undeveloped shoreline. This shoreline supported numerous birds including many kingfishers, osprey, bald eagle, kingbirds, tree swallows, red-winged blackbirds, loons, great blue herons, robins, and, of course, countless Canadian geese. We have learned how they got that name. Because there were only two locks and we were the only boat in each, we made great time.
Peterborough is the largest city in this part of Ontario with a substantial downtown district. Sadly, it was too hot to want to explore much but we did do a wee bit of grocery shopping and, as is typically the case, the Admiral found a terrific restaurant, Rare, for our dinner.
Peterborough Marina is a short walk from the downtown district but, even so, offered lovely views across Peterborough's Little Lake.
Yesterday (Tuesday), we made another early start to be first at lock 20. We made it but three other boats soon joined us and we spent most of the day going through seven of eight locks and a couple of swing bridges with them. Getting four boats crowded into a lock takes a lot more time and effort than just one. Our 22 mile day took nearly eight hours with the heat and humidity increasingly draining us. Environmental factors did not, however, take away from the excitement of the second lock of the day--the Peterborough Lift Lock. With every other lock we've encountered in nearly 6000 miles of travel, you enter a lock chamber and, whether you're going up or down, the lock keepers either fill the chamber or drain it. At the Peterborough Lift Lock, you essentially move into a pan holding 1300 tons of water and, in our case, three other vessels along with us. When the door is closed, lock keepers add a foot of water (130 tons) to the upper pan--enough weight to move the pan you're in up 60 feet in no more than a minute or two. Built in 1904, it is still considered an engineering marvel. The wide angle picture below does not do it justice.
I leave you with the picture below that Meg snapped as I took her and Sandy by dinghy back to the family summer home.
