French River, Lake Nipissing, La Vase Portage, Mattawa River, Ottawa River, St Lawrence River

This is the fur traders’ shortcut. If they had been forced to go around the horn, that is down Lake Huron, through the Saint Clair River, around the corner at Point Peele before turning east on Lake Erie, portage around Niagara Falls into Lake Ontario, down its length and through the Thousand Islands to the headwaters of the St Lawrence and onto Montreal, if would have put an inordinate time requirement on the trip and probably made it impossible to stretch the supply lines to the end of Lake Superior –there and back in one season would be too subject to seasonal weather.

Although the run up the 110 km French River is against the current and some clearly marked portages need to be made, once over the 10 km La Vase Portage at North Bay, the 76 km Mattawa and 500 km Ottawa Rivers run downhill to Montreal. There are several interesting rapids and dams in this stretch, but the portages are historic, well known, and heavily traveled. Like the coureur de bois of old, I would prefer the Rivers over the slugging it would take to run the length of the three massive Lakes and then the 250 km down the St Lawrence to Montreal.

For me, I look forward to passing over these waters which are so ingrained in the lore of the growth of first La Nouvelle-France, building on the voyage of discovery of Samuel de Champlain in 1610, and subsequently of Upper and Lower Canada. I have had brief forays into this country in my lifetime and I look forward to paddling and camping in this stunning countryside. The vistas, complete with some early fall colours among the Maples and the noisy quacking and honking of flocks of migratory birds as they rise from the water and search for nearby feeding grounds to sustain their relentless trip south, will gladden my spirits as I catch my wind and head for the finish line.

I am sure on some frosty September morning, with the breaking sun slowly dissipating the morning mist; I will play the immortal words of the hymn “Morning Has Broken” through my mind –particularly the 1971 recording by Cat Stevens:

“Morning has broken
Like the first morning,
Black bird has spoken
Like the first bird.
Praise the singing!
Praise for the morning!
Praise for them springing
Fresh from the Word!

Sweet the rain's new fall
Sunlit from heaven,
Like the first dewfall
On the first grass.
Praise for the sweetness
Of the wet garden,
Sprung in completeness
Where His feet pass.

Mine is the sunlight!
Mine is the morning.
Born of the one light
Eden saw play!
Praise with elation,
Praise ev'ry morning,
God's recreation
Of the newday!”

My 250 km leg down the St Lawrence River from Montreal to Quebec City will be substantially different because the St Lawrence at this point is for many stretches an industrial river with heavy industry and petroleum plants on the banks taking advantage of the river for movement of their goods. I look forward to passing through “le détroit” of Quebec City, my mother’s (Simone Tessier) home for 28 years, as the “falaises” rising from the River will portend Wolfe’s Cove – Anse au Foulon and the Plains of Abraham, and I will pass under the Citadelle and Chateau Champlain high on the bluffs. Once past the city of Levis on the south shore I will make a sharp right and pass down the southern channel with the Ile-d’Orléans on the left. Approximately 100 km from Quebec City I will come upon a group of islands extending beyond the east end of  Ile-d’Orléans in the St Lawrence and amongst them to L’ Isle-aux-Grues; and at Saint-Antioine-de-L’ Isle-aux-Grues the terminus of my trip. I chose this spot because I am clearly on salt water and it is where my grandmother’s family, Painchaud, came ashore on immigrating to Canada in 1753.

I will then return by ferry to the mainland and by auto to Quebec City where I will attend a large Tessier / Painchaud / Benoit/ Donohue/ des Rivières et al family reunion. There will be something special in the air when I partake with cousins, some of whom I have barely known or never met, in the celebration of the family spirits which exist throughout this vast territory I have just crossed.

As this will be my penultimate blog before starting my voyage, I would like to extend to all a traditional Gaelic blessing:

“May the road rise to meet you

May the wind be always at your back

May the sun shine warm upon your face

and,

Until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of His hand”