Rideau Paddling

Ah, the Rideau Canal. A renowned world heritage river. 

It inspires a romantic vision of paddling through narrow channels, protected from the buffeting wind, and watching graceful yachts gliding wavelessly along beside you. 

Let me tell you the reality.

It’s been a long time since we’ve done a canoe trip. A very long time.

As we set off from the Kingston Mills lock to start our Rideau adventure, paddling did not feel comfortable.  As 20 year veterans of canoe trips, surely the 4 year hiatus we had taken would not have made us forget so much. But in the bow, my feet were cramped. And in the stern, hubby was having a hard time keeping the canoe tracking straight. Even with a slight tail wind. We stopped and readjusted our load four times to lower the stern a little more, but to no avail. We zigzagged up Colonel By Lake and the River Styx (that’s its real name!) and to our first lock. The lockmaster didn’t seem confident of our ability to reach the goals we had set, but dutifully let us pay for passage anyway. As the waterway narrowed, our course seemed a little easier and we were able to enjoy the views of herons along the way. We berthed at the second lock station as planned.

We settled easily into the routine of setting up camp. My job was to prepare our bed and then relax with wine and cheese. I’ve always enjoyed this lifestyle.

This was comfort camping. Lock stations have flush toilets, manicured lawns for our tent, and drinking water from a tap. After a warm and sunny day, we slept well on an air mattress. Weight is no object on this trip, since we weren’t planning on portaging.

The next morning, as hubby was loading the canoe, he realized our mistake from the day before. We had been paddling the canoe backwards!! No wonder it was so difficult to keep it straight. It was a rookie mistake that must have had the first lockmaster shaking his head. Ahh, the wonders of asymetrical canoes.

Too late for blushes, we set off properly on our second day. To no surprise, travel was easier and we managed well over 20km and still set up camp by 3pm.

Overnight, the rain started and the wind began to blow. We delayed departure until the rain stopped, but not the wind. It didn’t seem so bad in the narrow canal by the lock. But when we hit Opinicon Lake we realized that we had underestimated the wind gusts. It whipped up high waves and white caps on the large lake.





At least we were smart enough to seek shelter in a cove for about an hour until the wind was steady, where we spent our time with a game of cribbage. There is a narrows between that lake and the next, where we stopped for a while. We congratulated ourselves on surviving the angry open waters and keeping the water out of our boat. And then we were nearly swamped by a young driver in a fast boat flashing through those shallows clearly marked with a speed limit and a “no wake” sign.

We stopped early that day, knowing that we had an even bigger lake to tackle the next day. What happened to those narrow channels that comprised the Rideau Canal? Oh. Those are farther north. Much farther.

Big Rideau Lake has some gorgeous cottages along its shores. It also has very little in the way of camping spots. 

We stopped at the provincial park on the west shore and got a spot right on the water.  No lush green lawn, nor flush toilet available. But we did have a campsite where we were able to get a lovely fire blazing to ward off the plunging temperatures.

After reading the warning signs at information posts, we hung our dishes and locked our food away from marauders. Bears, you say? No, raccoons. I understand they can be very persistent and noisy in the middle of the night, and have startled many a camper by fighting over the goodies left out by more careless overnighters.

We managed to get all the worst weather on the biggest lakes. After leaving the park, it started to rain. It had already been cold and windy, but several layers and an energetic attitude will hold that off for hours. Add in the rain, even with rain coats, and one starts to chill. We only lasted 3 hours before we started looking for places to dry off and warm up.






We landed at a marina, asked about a campground or even a restaurant nearby. They were kind enough to recognize our wet, bedraggled look and offered a storage shed as a dry spot to pitch our tent. We gloried in their hot showers and appreciated the use of their clothes dryer.

The waterway finally narrowed just before Smiths Falls, and the weather improved correspondingly. We went back to tenting at the lock stations.


I must say, the customer service that the lock employees show is exemplary. In trying to avoid the wet grass early one morning, hubby was walking alongside the lock to when an item from his backpack fell out and into the water. We were unable to retrieve it ourselves and hung around until the lockmaster showed up for the day. We could see it easily and it was surprising that the water in the lock was as deep as 7 to 8 feet – well out of our reach. After pointing it out to him, we went on our way, certain that it would grace the bottom of the lock for years to come.  But, two locks later, we were told that they had managed to fish it out and that someone would meet up with us later to deliver it. And then we were told stories of how they had used rakes on the end of a rope, or a magnet as in this case, to retrieve all sorts of things from the locks. We were very impressed that they would go to so much trouble for tourists passing through.

Eventually, the days got warmer. The Rideau River got narrower, although it was still a good size. It meandered through wetlands and developed areas alike. We would watch kingfishers dive from 30 feet up to catch a fish and see turtles stretching their necks for a glimpse of the sun, and then around a corner would be glamorous mansions with hot tubs and huge windows and more rooms that any family could use at one time.

We stopped before the main core of Ottawa, where the canal is narrow enough to throw a ball from one side to the other and joggers and bikers escort you along the waterway.  We had seen what we had wanted. For us, Ottawa wasn’t the destination – the canal itself was. 

It took nine days to paddle about 200kms, under good weather and bad. It had been indeed a very long time since we had undertaken a trip like this, but it reminded us of all the reasons why we used to do it.

To us, the Rideau Canal was a romantic vision made reality, mostly thanks to the people along the way.

W