Autumn from a Bedroom Window

Four Years

It's clear that the pandemic has not only messed with people's lives and messed with how we now do business, but it's also messed with time.

It's bad enough that COVID killed so many people, and those it didn't kill has left many, including myself, with long-term affects, some which may never go away. My lungs, I am certain and my specialist suspects, are a result of my exposure to the virus in 2022. I have a niece, who came down with COVID at the start of the pandemic, and who has permanent damage to her young heart.

Countless businesses suffered during the pandemic or outright collapsed. So many bricks-and-mortar shops couldn't compete with online retailers, and perished.

And many people to this day, myself and DW included, continue to work from home. I imagine I'll retire without having to clear out my office desk: I'll just have to return my laptop.

Time seems to have been affected by the pandemic, too. At least, from my perspective.

Things that I think happened long ago have actually happened within the last four years. When I think of travel, and my most recent vacations—twice to Mexico, to Cuba, to Portugal, and even this year's trip to Costa Rica—they seem like distant memories.

And yet, when I think of our two cats, Cece and Finn, I can't help but think it was just yesterday that we added them to our family. Our third cat, Camille, seems like she's been here forever, yet we got her in 2018, two years before we even knew about COVID.

But Cece and Finn have been with us for four years. They're our COVID cats, adopted in late October, 2020.

Maybe, because we've been working from home and spending so much time at our house, with the cats around us all the time, it seems like time has slowed down. Maybe, because Cece is still a tiny peanut, we feel she's just a wee kitten.

She's certainly the smallest adult cat we've ever had.

And yet, at other times it seems like it's hard to remember a time when we didn't have these siblings, adopted from a friend's farm, in our lives. I certainly can't picture a day without one of them jumping on my at-home work desk, looking for my attention.

Or lying on my lap as I watch TV.

Yes, time, like so many other things, has been messed up because of the pandemic. Is it four years already, or is it only four years?

Whatever, time doesn't matter. But these two, four years later, do.

Oh, and let's not forget about Camille, who also makes our house complete.

Understanding Limits

I'm getting too old for this.

It wasn't that long ago when a round trip to the Greater Toronto Area (GTA) was no problem. When Kid 1 was attending Sheridan College, in Oakville, I would often drive down to pick her up and bring her home for holidays. On those days, I would leave home after breakfast and drive the four-and-a-half hours to her campus, pick her up, and drive home.

I'd only stop for gas and a quick bite. Almost always, I'd call her just when I was about five minutes away, telling Kid 1 to head outside of her residence. I'd pull up, she'd hop in, and I would head back to Ottawa.

Essentially, it was a 10-hour day of driving.

In her final year, we gave her our Honda CR-V to take for the semester, so that she could drive herself. It was less stain on me and gave her more experience behind the wheel.

And like me, she likes to drive.

With Kid 2 at University of Toronto, I'd make similar trips but she was more determined to stay in the city. And when she did come to visit, she'd often take the train.

By then, I was starting to feel the wear and tear on my body, sitting behind the wheel for so long.

The longest trip was last year, when Kid 2 was moving to a new apartment, and her friends bailed on her at the last minute for helping her move. Most importantly, her friend with access to a van had something come up and Kid 2 had no way to get her things transported.

So I reserved a U-Haul truck, in Toronto, for the moving day. On the day of her move, I left home shortly before 6 a.m., drove straight to the U-Haul lot, picked up the truck, and went to Kid 2's apartment. I had only stopped for gas, in Napanee, and grabbed an A&W breakfast sandwich, and ate it on the go.

By the time I reached Kid 2's place, it was almost 11. It took about 45 minutes at U-Haul to get my reserved vehicle because I apparently arrived at the busiest time of the morning, and there was a long line ahead of me.

Luckily, one of Kid 2's stronger friends showed up to help move the heaviest of her furniture out, but had an appointment that he had to get to, so my kid and I loaded the rest of the truck ourselves. At her new place, she and I unloaded all of the contents of the truck, except for the three heaviest pieces: her dresser, a shelving unit, and her mattress.

Luckily, her friend's appointment was short and he was able to arrive and help us with those pieces. His help was really appreciated, as Kid 2 was moving to the third floor of a house, where the stairways and hallways were very narrow.

By the time we had her stuff unloaded, her bed assembled, and things put mostly into place, I was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily (this was before my lung issues), and exhausted. But we weren't done yet.

I still had to return the truck, which I had only rented for four hours, and that time was almost up. I put some gas in it, returned it, and reclaimed my own car before returning to Kid 2's place. There was still one more thing to do.

I took Kid 2 to a grocery store and told her to load up a shopping cart. While we were there, we realized that neither of us had eaten or had any liquid during the entire move. I wanted to take her somewhere for dinner, but the day was wearing on and I still had to drive home.

She picked up a frozen pizza and an energy drink, and said she'd just make herself dinner when she got back to her apartment. I grabbed an energy drink, too, and called it at that.

I dropped her at her new home, gave her a hug, and jumped back in the car. By the time I got home, it was around midnight. On the trip home, I only had a five-minute stop for fuel at the same station where I had refueled on the drive down, but this time I didn't also stop for food. I just wanted to get home.

I knew I couldn't do that again, this weekend, when Kid 2 was moving yet again.

This time, DW came with me. This time, we were going to drive down one day, stay overnight, move Kid 2, and then drive home. This time, I wasn't going to burn myself out in one day.

My lungs really show their limitations when I climb stairs. And, on Saturday, according to my smart watch, I climbed 67 flights. I walked almost nine kilometres.

But at least, I got a good night's sleep between driving to Toronto and starting the move.

Still, it was exhausting. Once again, Kid 2 didn't have any friends to help, not even her friend who gave us an hour, last time, to move the heavy things. But with DW there, I at least had someone to help.

As we placed the last bit of our daughters' belongings into her new place (a second-floor apartment, also with narrow stairs and corridors), I told DW that I had reached my limit. My body was too old for this. The next time our kid moves, we're hiring muscle.

The view from Kid 2's new rooftop patio. Not too shabby.

Even though we took many breaks and kept the truck almost two hours longer than I had rented it for, I was exhausted after the move. This time, though, we ate lunch.

DW and I pulled into our garage at 10:00 on Saturday night and we were both exhausted. Because Kid 2's new place had central heating and air conditioning, and her closet doors were mirrored, she no longer needed the portable AC unit that we provided over the summer nor her stand-up mirror, so we threw them in the back of our Niro. But once home, we were too tired to unload them.

That would have to happen in the morning.

We had foolishly made plans to join some friends, on Sunday, to return to Barron Canyon, in Algonquin Provincial Park, for one last (very last) paddle of the season. As we drove home, on Saturday night, we questioned the wisdom of such a big paddle the day after a big move and long drive, but we agreed that we could still do it.

We went straight to bed when we got in the house and set our alarms for 5 a.m. the next morning.

My brain might not yet understand my limitations but my body does. When my alarm went off, I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. And within a minute, I realized that my head was splitting. I took a couple of extra-strength Advil capsules, but as I was washing them down, I knew I had a full-blown migraine.

I crawled back into bed, breathing heavily. I also started shivering uncontrollably, so DW notified our friends that I was out of commission.

I suffered for about an hour, until I passed out, and slept until a little after 10. I still didn't get out of bed until about noon, and my body was in pain from head to toe: headache, sore joints, and muscle pain.

I'm not young anymore. Maybe, young at heart, but my body has taught me that it has limits. And it has taught me that I must listen to and obey those limits.

I spent most of yesterday recovering. I may also need some of today. Luckily, I work from home and from behind a desk.

I won't be burning myself out any time soon.

Mood

Every once and a while, I like to look at old photos that I've taken and wonder if I can make a so-so photo look better with more post processing. And lately, I've been into giving photos a darker look by increasing shadows, upping the amount of black, and providing higher contrast.

In other words, introducing a dark mood.

As part of my random photo of the day that I've been doing in my Mastodon and Threads feeds, I come across photos that I have all but forgotten. For example, I came across a photo that I shot inside the Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Rouen, in France. It wasn't a bad shot but I wanted to add a touch more drama.

What do you think? The photo on the left is the original, post-processed image. On the right, I've added more black, increased the detail, and made it a touch grainier.

There's not a whole lot of change to this image but I think the one on the right just pops a bit more.

I also came across a shot I had taken of Candlemaker Row, in Edinburgh, Scotland. To me, the photo didn't hold much interest and so I didn't apply many changes in post processing. Here's the original photo.

For starters, there were two silver cars parked on the side of the road and down the street, and they detracted from the historic feeling of this neighbourhood. There was a red car that was only partially visible, sticking out from around a corner, but it didn't seem to draw any attention.

The sky was also washed out because it was late in the afternoon and there was a bit of haze in the air. And that late-afternoon light gave the photo a dull wash that made it not very interesting.

But I added some drama to the overall image by upping the darkness and contrast, and increasing shadow. Doing so allowed me to increase the colour saturation, and the overall change made me like the photo, so I shared it as a random photo of the day (I picked it randomly before I applied any edits).

The photo on the left is the original: the dramatic one is on the left.

But I still found that the silver cars took away some of the mood, and so I applied a little AI magic to remove them (courtesy of Google's Magic Eraser). Like I said, the red car didn't seem to garner as much attention, so I left it in.

What do you think? Does this use of adding mood and removing objects make for a better photo? Tell me what you think in the Comments section.

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Not Your Average Wee Heavy

I have never had an Innis & Gunn ale that I didn't like.

And when it comes to Scottish whisky, there's no hesitation when I'm asked my favourite: Laphroaig.

So when these two top-tier brewers and distillers collaborated in a limited-edition brew, you just know that I'm going to seek it out.

I searched the LCBO Web site to find the nearest shop that stocked this wee heavy that was aged in 10-year-old Quarter Cask Laphroaig oak, hoping that my friendly neighbourhood shop would have some. But the closest location was 20 minutes away, in the Fairlawn Centre on Carling Avenue.

Not wanting to take any chances, I cleared the shelf.

Let's take a look, shall we?

Islay Whisky Cask (7.4% ABV)
Innis & Gunn
Edinburgh, Scotland

Appearance: pours a brownish-red that reminded me of a dark maple syrup. The taupe head started thin and was quickly reduced to a loose lace.

Nose: I'd know the smell of Laphroaig anywhere. There were distinct notes of oak, smoke, and peat, with added caramel and ripe prunes.

Palate: more whisky, mixed with vanilla and burnt toffee. There's a rich maltiness and full body, with a smoky finish. There's a bit of booziness to it but it's not overpowering: it provides a fine balance between whisky and ale.

Overall impression: this is the best wee heavy that I've ever had. It shows Innis & Gunn at its best, with the added richness of Laphroaig. This ale will keep you warm on a cool autumn evening.

When I first started drinking whisky, I was reading an Ian Rankin detective novel, and the main character, Inspector John Rebus, was drinking Laphroaig. So, sitting in the Manx Pub, on Elgin Street, I ordered a glass of this Islay malt and a pint of oatmeal stout, and nursed both of them while I read.

There was something about enjoying a whisky and a stout at the same time that was highly satisfying. And sipping this Islay Whisky Cask beer was very much a reminder of those days, sitting in the Manx, before a Toastmasters meeting.

This Scotch ale is magnificent.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺

Find this ale (it comes in a two-pack) at the LCBO while supplies last: in other words, before I find it first.

Cheers!

Muskrat Love

Trousers Rolled

I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

Gone are the days when I looked a decade younger than I really was.

The other day, while running errands, DW wanted to pick up a prescription from the pharmacy, so we pulled up in front of the big glass windows of our neighbourhood drug store. DW hopped out while I waited in the car.

You can't see me. I'm holding my phone in front of my face to get the shot.

The car was reflected brightly in the window and I could clearly see myself. Only, who I saw wasn't the me I was expecting to see.

I saw a round face. Round glasses took up most of that face and the rims cast shadows, making the face seem heavily wrinkled.

I was wearing a black baseball cap and could only make out the hair around my side burns, and they were clearly grey. It was an old man looking back at me.

I was horrified. Is this the face that others see when they look at me?

But it wasn't just an old face that I saw in the reflected glass. It was an older man. Older than I actually am. I saw someone who looked closer to 70 than to 60.

I couldn't wait for DW to return to the car so that I could pull away from this old man.

I'm growing old but I'm not ready to wear my trousers rolled.

Happy Tuesday!

Night Viewing

Though I knew where to look, I couldn't see it. Not right away.

The weather didn't cooperate for the first few nights. And on one night that I had a shot at capturing Comet Tsuchenshan-ATLAS, DW and I were hosting a Thanksgiving dinner.

So, I didn't actually get out to try my second attempt at photographing this once-in-80,000-year celestial event until Wednesday evening. After dinner, I stored my camera and tripod in the back of the car and headed south, along First Line Road, toward Kars. I stopped the car on a wide gravel shoulder, that looked newly groomed, near Phelan Road.

Because there's a slight double-bend in the road, and because vehicles like to exceed the posted 80 km/h limit (I've ridden my bike along this stretch many times and seen a lot of stupid drivers), I kept my taillights and daytime running lights on, and I stood partway in the ditch.

And looked westward.

There was the faintest bit of light fading on the horizon when I got out of the car, but by the time I retrieved my D-SLR and tripod, that too was gone. I was hopeful that the comet was still bright enough to see.

In the distant sky, there was still enough light below the horizon to illuminate some light clouds and contrails from far-away airplanes. But I couldn't clearly see the comet.

After a few minutes, with the camera set up, I let my eyes adjust to the darkness, though the lights from my car were illuminating some of the field immediately in front of me. I thought I saw another contrail, high up, and dim, but I thought that it could be the comet: it was certainly in the right spot.

And then I remembered that the night mode on my smartphone could pick up a lot more than my eyes could, so I raised my phone and took a single shot.

Yes, what I initially thought was a contrail was the comet.

It's very hard to aim a telephoto lens at a target in the dark. I had already focused on a distant line of trees, thinking that would be enough for the focal length, and turned off the auto-focus. Using the hot shoe mount on the top of the camera as a sight, I pointed my new 200–500mm lens toward the comet.

And shot.

I took about five or six shots in total, zooming closer and closer each time, until I reached the maximum focal length. What's more to see when you've captured the comet once? It's not like it changes.

I stayed for a few more minutes, taking in the comet with my naked eyes, which could see it clearer now.

Two nights later, I met up with someone who I had met on Mastodon. This time, I also brought my oft-neglected spotting scope. Mike came with some binoculars.

We met at Mer Bleu Bog, and other people seemed to have the same idea. We were both able to find the comet and watched it for a bit, but we chatted most of the time and made time fly.

When I was on Twitter, I had met with so many of my Ottawa peeps. I miss that. I'm going to have to organize another IRL meetup. Meeting with Mike made me realize how much I valued those meetings.

Thanks for the company, Mike!

I took a couple of photos with my smartphone, as the sunlight died away and as the moon rose over the bog, but I left my D-SLR in the car. I had forgotten its tripod and, besides, I already had images of the comet (though, the dusk shot did pick up the comet, albeit faint).

This year has been a big one for celectial phenomena: the solar eclipse, the partial lunar eclipse, the aurora borealis, and now the comet. And, I heard that a second comet may come at the end of this month, if it doesn't break up as it goes around the sun, and there may be a nova-like expulsion of nuclear gases at any time.

Will I capture them? Maybe. Maybe not. I will try to observe them, if I can, but I think I've had enough night viewing for now.

Happy Monday!

Shoot the Moon

Last Saturday, as DW and I were standing on Britannia Beach, waiting for a chance to capture Comet Tsuchinshan-Atlas (we didn't see it, by the way, though the sunset was worth venturing out), there was something in the sky that was behind us, ever-faithful, almost calling to us.

"Look at me... look at me..."

I still had a bit of time before the comet was supposed to come into view, should the clouds decide not to obscure our sight of it. So I swung my camera around and tilted upward.

It was one quick shot. With my new lens, I noticed that the moon was much larger in the frame than my older telephoto lens. To show a close-up shot, I wouldn't have to crop nearly as much in post production.

The RAW file was uploaded to my smartphone and edited in Snapseed. I noticed that I had overexposed a bit too much and blew out some highlights, and I was only able to recover so much.

But the craters are sharper than I'm used to with my older lens. I wish I had this new lens earlier this year, for the solar eclipse.

Next time.

Still, there's always the moon. The next time we have a thumbnail moon, I'll be out with my camera: that's my favourite phase.

And last night, I stepped into my backyard to capture the Hunters Moon. Here's that shot:

Oh, and the comet? We didn't see it on Saturday night but check out Monday's blog post, next week.

Happy Friday!

Two Kayaks and a Canoe

A couple of weeks ago, we got together with our good friend, Russ, who we've known since 1998, when he and I worked together, teaching English at Jeonju University, in South Korea. We learned, from day one, that we both lived in the Ottawa area, though he was about 45 minutes west of the city.

Close enough.

Russ is an avid outdoorsman who loves to hop in a canoe and solo-paddle all over Eastern Ontario and up into Algonquin Provincial Park. He has paddled The Meanest Link, a 420-kilometre paddle that connects all four Algonquin Outfitters depots with lakes and rivers in the park. It is a challenging journey that Russ has done, solo, twice.

To say that DW and I are a bit intimidated when Russ first offered to paddle with us was an understatement. But we did a leisurely paddle at Morris Island Conservation Area and crossed over to the Québec side, where we explored the small islands that lined the northern shores of the Ottawa River, to the west of Baie Black.

A couple of weeks ago, we were able to meet up again with Russ: this time, we went to a lake that wasn't very far from Carleton Place, where our buddy now calls home. He's wanted to explore this lake in Lanark County for a while, and we were the perfect excuse for him to check it out.

And, of course, I equipped my kayak with my video camera.

This week, I released a video of Clayton Lake on my YouTube channel. Have a look.

We're getting toward the end of the kayaking season but Russ says he wants to try to get out at the end of October. Weather permitting, we'll join him and his girlfriend, though I'm not expecting to bring my video camera.

As always, if you like my video, let me know by giving it a Thumbs Up and by subscribing to my channel.

Happy Thursday!

Colour in the Sky

Zooming In

So I did it.

I bought a new lens. And the first thing that DW said to me when I brought it home was, "How do you expect to carry that in your kayak?"

It's a big lens.

"I don't," was my answer. "At least not often. And I'll need a new dry bag."

A couple of weeks ago, I said that I needed a better telephoto lens, that, while my 70–300mm is fine for many photos, it lacks the sharpness at maximum magnification and I would really like to zoom in closer to some subjects. I wanted a fixed focal length, at least 500mm.

But I'm not rich and would rather spend that kind of money travelling.

I settled for a zoom telephoto lens and saw a few on Kijiji that covered 200–500mm. When I was able to negotiate with someone from out of town to get a price within my budget, we arranged to meet.

We met in the parking lot of a Tim Horton's that isn't far from the airport. I brought both my Nikon D7200 and D750 to try out the lens. After playing with the lens, downloading some of my images onto my phone and zooming in, I saw that the images were sharp.

There were no marks on the camera, the lenses were clear, filter threads in good condition, it zoomed smoothly, and apart from some of the numbers and painted markings being slightly worn from use, it was in great nick.

I went out to Mud Lake a few days later but there weren't many signs of wildlife except for various regular ducks and geese. I took a couple of quick snaps but in my haste, didn't really set up the camera to shoot fast enough at 500mm. Some images weren't sharp but that was my fault.

So on this past long weekend, DW and I set out to try and capture a rare celestial sighting. Comet Tsuchinshan-Atlas is visible with the naked eye, assuming you have a clear sky.

DW and I headed to Britannia Beach and walked to the far north-east end of the bay, where there was a clear line of sight west. The comet was supposed to be visible about a half an hour to 45 minutes after sunset, so I made sure I was set up in time.

It was cool, with a strong wind coming off the Ottawa River. We had to bundle up to stay warm as we stood still.

While the sky overhead was crystal-clear, the western horizon showed very low cloud moving southward. Holding out my arm all the way and extending a finger that was horizontal with the horizon, the cloud just peeked above my finger.

"Hopefully, the comet will appear above the cloud line," I told DW.

She took a picture of me as I set up my camera with my new lens on the tripod. And then, we waited.

My camera was pointed toward Kanata North. For the most part, all we could see were trees on the horizon and one building rising above. With the naked eye, we could barely make out the building.

I focused on the building and took a shot, and zoomed in on the image in the camera's display.

"It's the Brook Street Hotel," I said, "I can read the lit-up sign on the top of the building."

DW looked at my display. "Wow, that's pretty impressive," she said.

Using my smartphone, I took a photo at the magnification that we could see with the naked eye.

Take a look at the group of trees in the foremost left of the image. There's a gap and then a lone tree. And then there's another gap and a second lone tree: With my new lens, I zoomed in on it.

Next, I zoomed in, once again, at Brook Street Hotel.

For this shot, I set my exposure for the fiery sky above Kanata. It was looking pretty spectacular.

It's a good thing that the sky put on such an incredible display for us because an hour after sunset, we still couldn't see anything else in the sky.

The Tsuchinshan-Atlas comet is supposed to be visible for a few more days. We couldn't go out on Sunday because we were hosting a Thanksgiving dinner but I hope to get out before it's gone.

Happy Tuesday!

Out Before Dawn

(By the way, this is the 3,000th post for The Brown Knowser. Thought you might like to know.)

A week ago, I did something that I haven't done in a very long time: I woke up, before sunrise, for the sole purpose of taking photographs.

I'm not a morning person but I'll get up early if I'm motivated. Like, when I used to work at the office and wanted to arrive between 6:30 and 7, before most of my colleagues arrived. I'd get a lot of work done before any distractions got my attention, and I'd be able to leave work earlier in the afternoon, giving myself the rest of the day to enjoy.

I'll get up early to go kayaking, if our destination is far. It's good to beat the rush and I find the lighting better.

I'll get up early to catch a flight. Not that I sleep well leading up to that flight. I get anxious toward departure time and I don't calm down until I'm at the gate, ready to board.

I'd like to think that I can get up early just to take a photo, but more times than not, I'll sacrifice a good shot for another hour of sleep.

But last Friday, I made an exception. Last week, I was on a staycation, where I got some writing done (including this post), got some chores done and some errands run, worked on videos, and relaxed. I wanted to use one of those mornings to get up early and capture some photos, and when I learned that we would have fog patches that would burn off in the morning, I thought that this would be a good time to rise early.

My destination was set the night before: Hog's Back. It's one of my favourite places to take photos and I knew that if there was going to be fog patches, they'd be there.

When I pulled into the parking lot, there were only a couple of cars already there. No doubt, there'd be other photographers with the same idea, but when I got to the falls, there was no one there. I had the lookout to myself.

But as I started setting up my tripod, I saw a young, pretty woman in a hijab come along the path towards where I was setting up.

"Good morning," I said as she passed by.

"Good morning," she echoed. "Do you think you'll get the sun over the falls?"

"Not over the falls," I said, "but I'm hoping for a bit of colourful light."

"Good luck," she said, and kept walking.

"Have a great day," was my response.

She didn't stop at the lookout but continued along the path as it ran downstream, toward Vincent Massey Park.

And I thought something that I immediately checked myself and wondered if I should even be thinking such a thing. Here was a young woman, on her own, in a relatively empty park, before the sun was up. Was she safe?

I also thought that because she was wearing a hijab, would she be susceptible to criticism or even an attack?

And then I thought, am I being somehow racist and sexist for thinking these thoughts? What makes me think that she can't take care of herself?

I'm a dad of two young women and I worry about them all the time, particularly Kid 2, who lives in Toronto and works late hours. I don't have the luxury of seeing that she gets home safely.

And that's what I wanted for this young woman in Hog's Back Park. I just wanted her to be safe and get to wherever she was going, just as I want for my own kids.

And while I captured photos of the falls, I kept my ears alert to any sounds that would break the peace of the morning.

Of course, when I finished taking photos at this lookout, I moved to other spots where all I could hear were the cars passing over the dam and the crashing water. I saw more people and was surprised that they were all on their own, much like me.

Ottawa's a safe place, I told myself. Sure, it's not perfect and you do have to be aware of your surroundings, but you can almost always expect to get from point A to point B without anything bad happening.

As I made my way back to my car, I encountered another woman, a bit younger than me, who was walking her dog. "Did you get your shots?" she asked.

"I hope so," I replied.

She scooted across the road that leads into the park and into a field that was wet with dew, where the sun was casting its warm rays through the trees. In an instant, I took one last shot.

It reminds me that we can all come out before dawn.

Happy Friday!

My Viking Roots

I only recently learned about my Scandinavian roots, with almost 10 percent of my genetic makeup representing Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. I learned this fact after a genetic test.

There's Viking blood in me.

Which makes it kind of funny that I came across a photo of me from 1989. It looks like I took it at a party (other photos corroborate my guess) and it was probably shot with my old Nikon One Touch point-and-shoot camera.

It's not a great photo, being somewhat out of focus.

DW and I were recently dating at the time but I can't remember which party we were at. We went to a lot of house parties back then. I don't recognize the ceiling or wall but it appears to be in someone's basement.

I don't remember where the helmet came from. Also, at the time, I wouldn't have known that true Viking helmets didn't have horns.

It's funny, looking at the photo now, knowing my genealogical roots. And, ugh, that hair!

Happy Thursday!

Early Morning Falls

In Training

Yes, this is another post about kayaking. Sorry to those who aren't into paddling, but this activity seems to be a big part of our life, these days.

A couple of weeks ago, when DW and I were on Clayton Lake, in Lanark County, with our good friend, Russ, we discussed doing a paddle trip to Barron Canyon, in Algonquin Provincial Park. DW and I had paddled this route in October 2020, and Russ used to make an annual trip with his mother, on the Mother's Day weekend.

He hasn't been back to Barron Canyon for a couple of years, since his mother passed away, and he noted on our recent paddle that he'd like to go back. This time, with us, and this month, if the weather held out.

DW and I said that we'd love to go, and if it was okay, we'd invite our Paddlefolk, too.

Getting three couples (Russ would bring his girlfriend) to coordinate on a particular weekend was a challenge. We settled on the last weekend of October, but we're not holding our breath that the weather would cooperate.

Our Paddlefolk were also available this past weekend, and because the forecast looked good, we decided that the four of us would make the trek on Saturday. We'll join Russ and his girlfriend on another trip, later this month.

DW and I figured we'd need the workout. We're heading on a big vacation, in May, and we need to be in good shape (hint-hint). Barron Canyon has a 420-metre portage over rough terrain, and lugging our kayaks is no easy feat.

We were up at 5 and on the road at 6. By 8:30, we were in the river at Squirrel Rapids.

Mist rose up from the cool water, hitting the cooler air. We knew that as soon as the sun hit the water, things would clear up. It was a better day than when we set out, four years earlier.

We couldn't have called a better day. Within an hour of paddling, it was already starting to warm up. And when we reached the bottom of Brigham Chute, nearly nine kilometers upstream, we needed to peel off some layers.

We ate lunch at the waterfalls and then made our way back to the starting point.

I don't know why my lungs gave me trouble but I found myself fighting for air during the portages and I was exhausted during the final kilometre, but I told DW that pushing myself was good for getting in training for our vacation.

Breathing was going to be an exercise of its own (hint-hint).

Because our Paddlefolk, Nina and Brian, hadn't been to Barron Canyon before, they wanted to hike to the top of the canyon cliffs. So we got our cars packed up and drove to the trailhead.

It's a steep climb to the lookout points, but DW and I were in training, as we'll be doing some climbing, where we're going in May (hint-hint).

From Algonquin Park, we drove to Pembroke, where we had a great dinner at a place called The Nook, and then continued home.

When we had pulled out of our driveway, at 6 in the morning, it was dark. When we returned home, at 9, it was dark again.

We unpacked the car, put all of our equipment away, and were in bed by 9:30. Within minutes, I was sound asleep.

It's good to wear ourselves out and, weather permitting, we'll do it again in a few more weeks, weather permitting.

We need to push ourselves. We're in training, after all.

Just Another Paddling Video

I often wonder if people who aren't into kayaking grow tired of my blog posts about DW's and my paddling adventures.

I've called my YouTube channel a moving-pictures version of my blog, yet I always share a post about a latest video on the blog, so I wonder if people who have subscribed to The Brown Knowser channel see the video and then come here, only to see a post about that video.

It's a vicious circle.

But seriously, I am paying attention to the number of views that I get on posts like these, and if they dip well below the average for other blog posts, I'll stop sharing them here. Or you can leave a comment and let me know if you want me to keep up the posts about my YouTube videos, or if you'd rather I didn't.

And if you do like my YouTube videos, please subscribe.

As the weather gets cooler, DW and I will be hanging our kayaks up for the season, and also for the last time. We bought new kayaks a month ago and expect to receive them in the spring, in time for the new season.

If the weather holds out, we'll likely put our boats in again but over this weekend, I feel that I've recorded my last YouTube video of the season. Which means, I'll have two more videos to share in the coming weeks.

My latest video dropped on Saturday. It chronicles our trip across the Ottawa River, to Baie Black. This nine-minute video shows the calmness of this bay, the little islands, and even sees me getting stuck on rocks.

I'll have to be more careful: after all, DW and I want to sell these puppies and I'd like to keep mine in good nick.

Have a look:

Next week, I hope to share another video of a paddle that we did with our friend, Russ, who paddled with his dog in a canoe. Stay tuned (if you like watching these videos, of course).

Happy Monday!

Better Glass

Last month, when we experienced a partial lunar eclipse, I ran outside with my camera, on a tripod, and mounted my most powerful telephoto lens on it to get the shot.

It wasn't a great shot.

Even at maximum magnification, on a cropped-sensor body (which essentially made it an equivalent of 450mm), the moon only filled a fraction of the frame. Cropping the photo, it was obvious that it wasn't a clear image.

I posted the photos on Mastodon and Theads but wasn't happy with the result, so largely forgot about them.

When DW and I started thinking about our next vacation for 2025, two places came to mind but I was hesitant.

"I'm not going to either of these places until I have a better telephoto lens."

For years, I've wanted a better lens than what I have in my 70-300mm zoom. Sure, it takes some decent photos but if I want to crop a photo to magnify the subject more, the photo starts losing sharpness.

I've wanted a prime telephoto lens, either a 600mm or 800mm, but those start at about $9,000. Without a benefactor, I'm not going to ever have something like that.

Now that people seem to be switching to mirrorless cameras, there are good deals that can be found on lenses for D-SLRs. A few months ago, I saw a used 500mm lens in a camera store, but they still wanted $4K for it.

"That's more than the price of our trip to Akumal," DW said when I called her about it. "Don't you dare!"

Sigh.

When we settled on a destination for our 2025 trip, I said I didn't want to go unless I had some good glass.

So, we searched used equipment sites: I went to Kijiji; DW searched Facebook Marketplace.

We both spotted a Nikon 200-500mm f/5.6 lens that might be suitable. Several folks were selling it, in various states of condition and at various prices.

One person said that her lens was three years old and she had only used it a couple of times, and was asking only a few hundred less than a new lens. I tried to negotiate but she wouldn't budge on her asking price.

Another person had the same lens and said he didn't use it often. And before the warranty expired, he sent it to Nikon for an inspection and cleaning.

He has the receipt.

I was able to negotiate for the price I'm willing to pay and we're meeting later today. He recommended that I bring my camera body to try it out before I hand over any cash.

I'm bringing both D-SLRs.

Fingers crossed. I'm hoping that the next time I shoot the moon, it'll be worth sharing.

Happy Friday!

Five

It's hard to believe that I only have five months left in my 50s. In March, I'll officially be a senior citizen in the eyes of the Canadian government.

DW will sometimes tell me that I can still act like I'm five, but that's usually when I tell her that she's not the boss of me.

As I approach my 60s, I've started thinking about how I'm not far away from the age that my dad was when he died. Thinking like that weighs heavy on a person and I've started thinking about all the things I've wanted to do, and how I should do them as soon as possible because I don't know how much time I have left.

Over the weekend, my mom gave me a couple more years.

As I've been filling out missing gaps in my Ancestry family tree, I've always thought that my dad was born in 1939, making him 62 when he suffered his fatal heart attack. But my mother corrected me: he was born in 1937.

She knows this because a) she's smart and hasn't lost her marbles yet, and b) because she is five years younger than him. I've updated his details on Ancestry.

My goal, over the past couple of years, has been to outlive my dad's age when he died. I thought I only had to hold out three more years but I guess I now have to hang on for another five.

And speaking of all these fives, here's a picture of me when I was that age, with some AI manipulation.

I'm using it as my profile picture on Mastodon and Threads from now until my 60th birthday. DW may still say that I sometimes act like a kid, and now I can look back on what I looked like when I really was one.

Happy Thursday!