Have I ever told you just how much I hate camping?

Yes sir, I looked back, and not so surprisingly I have … in this post, and again – it was implied at the end of this post, and yep, again in this post!

I guess the word is out: I despise camping for a variety of reasons, one of which has to do with fishing.

Going back to the time, when I was a kid, our summer vacation was camping. First in tents, years later in a trailer.

All six of us packed into a station wagon or a truck, on the road, fighting like cats and dogs in the backseat which would prompt my mom would reach back, without warning and without even looking, and slap at us with a fly swatter. Have you ever been hit with a fly swatter? It hurts and leaves a mark!

Then we’d set up camp and settle into a campground in Northern Arizona or in Colorado for at least one week, two or three times each and every summer.

Good Times… for some, but not for all!

When we camped, we also fished.

Well, they all fished – I just floundered.

My mom (the fly swatter-wielding mad-woman) was a great fisherman, she caught fish left and right. That might be attributed to the fact that she’d go downstream, away from the rest of us to fish. When she caught one, she’d walk up to Dad and he’d take off the fish and re-bait her hook, and away she’d go again.

My dad would have also been a great fisherman if he wasn’t always busy bating everyone’s hooks, taking the fish off said hooks, cleaning, and gutting said fish. He was constantly untangling all our tangled lines, unhooking the hooks we snagged in trees, on rocks, and in each other… as we were casting… all at the same time.

Poor guy, he never had a chance to actually fish for himself… but he never complained. Never!

My three siblings all caught fish at one time or another… but alas, I NEVER caught a fish in my life! All those years of camping and fishing and not a single fish for me. Only if my parents took us to the Tamarindo area, which is known to be the idle spot to go on Costa Rica deep sea fishing charters expeditions. I think I could have caught a fish or two there as the waterbody seems to be well-stocked with marine life. Alas, I never got the chance to visit the place as a kid!

But yes, I agree that if I had the skills, I could have caught a fish in my neighboring lake or waterbody. It might have had something to do with my natural-born impatience. I’d cast my line out, expect to immediately get a nibble… when I did not, I’d reel it in and just cast out again and again. With all that casting and reeling, I’d inevitably get my hook caught in a tree or bush, on a sibling, or even in my own mop of hair. Then, I’d say, “I hate fishing” and stomp off in a huff! Yes, I was the complainer!

So when I was at Deer Lake and Paul asked if I’d like to go fishing with him, I said that yes I would like to go fishing with him. I confessed that I’d never caught a fish before! Well, he was happy to take on the challenge and get me out on the lake with a pole in hand. He never had an ounce of doubt that I’d catch a fish on Deer Lake!

I’d only fished in a stream or standing on the shore of a lake, never in a boat. Here, we were in a motor boat and trolling. “Trolling means slowly dragging a line through deep water. Most trolling is ­motorized — from a boat.” What a difference and how much less stressful and more fun!!!

So. Much. Better!

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I am returning to posting about our magical trip to Paul and Kim Howard’s vacation home in Canada’s province of Quebec. A couple of days between posts were needed to format and compile all the photos required for the telling of this wonderful history…

In the mid-50’s Paul’s paternal grandfather either won the Deer Lake property in a card game or purchased it… or maybe a little of both… I was never quite clear on that matter.

Deer Lake includes about 600 acres, the crystal clear Deer Lake, cottages, bunkhouses, sheds, garages, a mountain with a shrine on top (a future post will be dedicated to that), and so much more.

When we arrived, we were welcomed by a full rainbow…

… and later in the week – by a baby snapping turtle!

Paul’s father was an only child, so the property was passed down to him. Paul is the third of five children – so now the property belongs to him and his siblings.

Deer Lake was won/purchased from a Mr. Coon. When Paul and his family first started coming to Deer Lake, the Coon Cottage was the only residence. That cottage is now gone, all that remains from the structure is a stone fireplace. They call the area where the cottage once sat, The Grove. There is a lovely little creek that runs through it. Under the dock that still juts out into the lake, lives an otter. One day, while Dave and I were exploring the area, Dave saw the otter! Sadly, I did not.

In the first couple years, 1956-57, Paul’s family would stay at The Seigniory Club of La Petite-Nation; now known as Fairmont Le Chateau Montebello. The Chateau sits on a vast property spanning an area of 65,000 acres, including 70 lakes. We visited the Chateau, which is also called the “Log Castle”. Makes sense, when it was built in 1930, it was the largest log structure in the world. The original three buildings are constructed of more than 10,000 red cedar logs from British Columbia, and 500,000 hand-split cedar shakes for the roof.

I read that The Old Faithful Inn in Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming is now the largest log structure in the world. After checking out photos of the Inn, I have to say they are both places I’d love to stay someday.

Beginning in about 1958, Paul’s family would stay at Coon Cottage, that is until 1962 when Paul’s grandparents built The Lake House …

and the Boy’s Bunk House.

The Lake House has a large living room, and several bedrooms, each with its own bath, a galley kitchen plus a butler’s pantry.

Plus a large basement/garage and a few secret places that look dark and musty.

The dock and hammocks are two of the best features of The Lake House. It’s where we spent most of our afternoons. Below, Terry is in the hammock, while Barb, Kim, and Dave are coming up the hill from the dock.

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The big news, where I am today, is that an enormous storm hit Toronto at 4:30 PM yesterday.

Here is a sneak peek of where we’ve spent the last six days. This is heaven on Earth.

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On Friday, we ventured into Ottawa to shop at the open-air farmers’ market, watch the Changing of the Guard on Parliament Hill, and try some traditional Canadian food.

Poutine is a common Canadian snack dish (originally from Quebec), made with French fries, topped with brown gravy, and cheese curds.

The group wanted to know if I was going to post a recipe for it. I suppose that if I loved the stuff I would do so, but frankly, I found it rather disgusting.

For that reason, here is the best I can give you as far as a recipe goes; Purchase a bag of frozen fries, a can of brown beef gravy, and a bag of cheese curds, which can be found at Whole Foods. Bake or deep-fry the French fries and heat the gravy, place fries on a serving dish, sprinkle with curds, then pour the heated gravy over the top. There you have it, Poutine, the favorite snack food of Canada. Enjoy!

I had expected the Changing of the Guard in Canada to be similar to the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace in London. Again, not quite so. There was still plenty of pomp and circumstance, maybe even more, but don’t expect the same sort of stoic affair.

These guards not only smile and speak, but they will also pose for pictures with you as well. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that they aren’t actually “guarding” anything. The photo above shows the Canadian Guard, while the photo below shows the British Guard at Buckingham Palace.

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