Game Changer

Last week, as I was working on the next video of DW's and my trip through the Saguenay, I encountered an issue that, for a moment, made my heart stop.

My usual workflow for editing video from one of my 360-degree cameras is to connect it, through Wi-Fi, to my smartphone, which holds a dedicated app. I'll made the edits with my phone and then export the completed clip to my phone: after which, I transfer the files on my phone to an external drive on my computer.

The next video that I was going to make was DW's and my kayaking adventure in Baie Éternité and the Saguenay River, in the fjord. It's already out on my YouTube channel, which you can check out if you're into kayaking videos.

Subscribe to my channel while you're at it.

Because so much of our vacation involved kayaking on challenging waters, I didn't want to risk having everything on one storage card, in case something happened to the camera. I saved one micro SD card with our first two paddles and hikes, but swapped out that card for another when we ran the Jacques Cartier River.

I added a third micro SD card to my Insta360 camera when DW and I paddled in the Saguenay fjords and a forth card for our time in the Tadoussac area. And I had to carefully store and keep track of these cards when I was done with them.

So, as I was getting ready to edit the video clips on the third card—for Baie Éternité—I plugged the micro SD card into the camera and turned the camera on. Usually, a pale-blue light appears on the camera as it's starting up and the light changes to a darker blue when it's ready, but this time the light appeared yellow and the camera made an odd beep sound.

A message on the camera indicated that it couldn't read the card. I thought that I had somehow inserted it incorrectly, so I shut down the camera, removed the card, made sure it was clean and had no debris on the contact points, made sure the card slot on the camera was also clean, re-inserted the card, and turned the camera on again.

And again, the yellow light and squawk from the camera told me that something was wrong. I tried to pair the camera with my phone, and it wouldn't let me.

And that's when my heart stopped. What if the micro SD card was corrupted and I couldn't access those files from Baie Éternité?

Insta360 has a desktop version of their editing software but I haven't used the app in years. The first time I shot video with the Insta360 One X camera, I plugged the camera into my computer and edited the footage with the Insta360 Studio program.

I found the interface a bit awkward and it took me a long time to edit a file. I also noticed that the desktop version was missing some key features from the mobile app, such as the ability to speed up video—something I use a lot in my videos.

So, after the first use with Insta360 Studio, I stuck with using the mobile app. I found using my fingers on the screen, even though it was small, was faster and more precise than using a mouse. And any video that I've shared in the past five years was edited on my phone.

I sort of dreaded starting up the desktop program but needed to see if the Baie Éternité video was salvageable. I had no choice.

Immediately upon starting Insta360 Studio, a message told me that the program needed an update, so that's what I did. With that task completed, I then plugged my micro SD card into the computer and crossed my fingers.

Immediately, the Studio program recognized that a card with its proprietary files had been plugged into the computer and asked if I wanted to import them. I didn't need to do anything other than click Yes.

The workspace showed me all of the files and when I double-clicked one, it came up onto my screen. I breathed a sigh of relief that I hadn't lost these files.

I also quickly noticed that the interface in the program looked different. The buttons were more intuitive than I remembered in the first-generation program. Also, having had more than five years of experience with the mobile app, which has itself had some major upgrades over that time, I was able to quickly navigate the various controls and edit the clip in no time at all.

And, if I'm being honest, in less time than the mobile app allows me.

The desktop app also lets you make manual edits for exposure and colour corrections, and provides higher bit-rate values than the handheld app does. Typically, in the mobile app, the maximum bit rate is between 100 and 150; on the desktop app, I could go as high as 200 on every clip.

The higher the bit rate, the better quality the video is. It also creates a much bigger file but my computer can handle it.

With the mobile app, I would edit a single file and then export it to the phone, which ate up a lot of time. With the desktop program, I was able to edit one file, add it to a queue, and then move onto the next file. When all the files were edited, I could perform a batch export and move all of the completed files to a designated folder at once.

What would have taken me at least a full day on my phone took less than half that time on the desktop. And I believe I have better-quality footage for when I use these files in Final Cut Pro, when I put them all together in a single video for YouTube.

That one glitch with the micro SD card in my camera turned out to be a gift in disguise. I'll be using the Insta360 Studio app from now on to edit the clips before exporting them to the next step in my video-making process.

It doesn't mean that I'll completely abandon the mobile app: it just means that that process will be my backup method when I don't have access to my computer.

This is a new game changer to my video-making process. I wish I had given this app another chance years ago, but better late than never.

Happy Tuesday!

The Talk

I have a secret that I haven't shared.

On my Bluesky social media site, I've tried to portray myself as a happy-go-lucky, positive guy. I tend to start every morning by posting a positive message to my followers and anyone else who stumbles along that message. My message always begins with "G'morning, folks. How are you now?"

I try to say something uplifting about the day, ending with, "Have a great day and be awesome!" Sometimes, if I'm in a particularly sleepy state, I'll have that post with just those three sentences.

Similarly, before I go to bed, I'll hope that my readers had a great day, let them know how awesome they are, and then bid them, "G'night, folks. Sleep well."

If just one person reads these sign-on and sign-off messages and feels good, I feel that I've made a difference. And I'll feel good, too.

Like everyone in the world, I don't always have good days. I'm not always a happy camper. I strive to do my best but I'm only human. Some days, I don't feel like sharing any positivity, even if I still start and end my social-media days on positive notes.

Here's the secret that I haven't shared: for months now, I've been waking up in terrible pain. I feel it coming on as I lie in bed, ready to sleep, knowing that it's going to interrupt that sleep.

It has me constantly tossing and turning, looking for a comfortable position, but none comes. DW and I have been sleeping in separate rooms for more than a year, and that's a good thing: my endless movement, my tearing at the sheets—in addition to my snoring—would give DW a terrible sleep, too.

Image: Perplexity

I'm pretty sure that I have arthritis in both shoulders. It doesn't affect me much during the day with regular activities but if I lie on either side, at night, the weight of my upper body eventually presses on my shoulder and causes me pain, and I'll stir and roll over.

I can't lie on my stomach because I instinctively raise my arms past my head, and that causes pain. And if I lie on my back, I'll start snoring and will wake myself up.

Essentially, there's no position that I can sustain over night. No matter what I do, I eventually feel pain or discomfort and wake up.

I can't remember the last time that I slept soundly through the night. Perhaps, in late July, when DW and I were camping at Bonnechere Provincial Park. And on that weekend, I had put a kink in my neck so bad that I had to fill my system full of pain medication and alcohol to knock me out.

The kayaking video that I made on that trip was done with lots of meds in me. I'm surprised that it turned out at all.

When DW and I were camping in Parc National de la Jacques-Cartier, I was also dealing with pain while I slept in a tent. Thankfully, the tent was huge and we were on separate mattresses, in our own sleeping bags, and my tossing and turning didn't disturb DW.

My snoring did, but that's a different issue.

On one of our hikes, we had a talk that I've wanted to discuss for some time.

DW has known me through some of the worst parts of my foot issues and was dating me when I had two surgeries on my right foot. She knows the osteoarthritis that I had been dealing with until 2018, when I had surgery on my left foot that removed all the arthritic joints (replacing them with a plate and eight screws) and the cortisone injections in the arthritic joints in my right foot.

She knew when I was at my lowest point, when I said that if the pain in my feet wasn't solved through that surgery and treatment that I had my bridge all picked out. I had reached my limit of pain intolerance.

Well, my feet are fine, now. I don't feel any pain in my left foot and my right foot is manageable.

But I now have this problem with my shoulders. And if I'm going to be honest, this pain is a bit more intense, especially in the morning, as I'm trying to get out of bed.

I'm waiting for an appointment to see my doctor to get x-rays. If my shoulders are arthritic, I'll get a referral for cortisone injections, which will hopefully make the pain manageable. So far, magnesium and turmeric aren't helping.

Also, the last couple of times that we were paddling, I'd get home to find some of the knuckles in my right hand are sore. That's just great.

While we were on that hike, I told DW that I refused to grow old and be in pain. I wanted my life to be one of quality and that I'd never want to be a burden on anyone, especially her and our kids.

If that meant that I only had 10 more years, so be it.

I don't have a bridge picked out anymore—I don't think my shoulders would let me hoist myself onto the railing. But MAID is definitely a possibility.

I thought DW would laugh it off: "Oh, Ross, don't talk nonsense." But she simply said, "That would be a responsible approach. But I'm hopeful to have you around for more than 10 years."

If I can find relief for my shoulders, she just might get more than 10 years with me. But if this pain continues, my days will be numbered.

I'm sorry if this post isn't as cheery as my Bluesky messages. But sometimes, we just need to have these kind of talks. I had lived with pain for more than 40 years. I'm not going to go through 10 more.

Whose Photo Is It?

A few years ago, DW bought me a photo-editing app that incorporated a lot of AI into it. There were pre-set filters that could tremendously enhance a photograph to create whatever results you wanted in a fraction of the time that it would take you to make those changes, yourself, using standard editing features with the program.

It could also add elements to a photograph to improve the overall image. Don't like the bland, washed-out sky? Add some clouds. Want to add other elements? How about some birds, or lightning, or fireworks? Why not slot a moon in?

Don't like the colour of someone's eyes? Change them. Heck, change anything you want about that person. They don't need to look like themselves.

For a couple of years, I had fun with Luminar AI but I still liked using PaintShop Pro for most of my photo editing. I'd been using PSP for more than a decade and was used to the interface, liked certain settings that defined the look I was going for in my images.

At the time that I started using Luminar AI, I questioned whether the photo that I enhanced was still my own work. If I added clouds or used a filter that would make the overall shot look like it was captured at a different time of day (for instance, at sunset, rather than midday), was it still my photo?

Ultimately, the answer was 'yes,' though whenever I shared such an edited photo with the public, I'd make sure that I indicated it as an enhanced photo.

I haven't used my Luminar AI photo editor in several years. Over time, I just lost interest in dramatically changing my photos. I wanted to just touch up an image from how I shot it. I wanted to be happy with an image the way I shot it.

But a couple of weeks ago, as DW and I were on a walk on one of Ottawa's many NCC trails, we stumbled upon something that inspired me for a photo, but that I couldn't create at the time. At first, I told myself that I'd have to come back another time but then I thought that I'd have to get to this spot when the weather conditions were just right, and would possibly have to return several times.

The trail, just off Corkstown Road, near Kanata, is less than half an hour away from my house and another 15 minutes or so to reach along the trail. Not exactly the most convenient to get to, so my timing for this imagined shot would be tricky.

At one point on this NCC trail, you start following a railway line that runs from north of Kanata, into Bells Corners. Going further northward, it passes through Carp and runs into Arnprior: going in the opposite direction, it cuts through Nepean and crosses the Rideau River by Pigeon Bridge.

I don't even know if the railway line is still used, though the tracks looked as though they were usable and their tops had a shine that had no apparent rust. So DW and I assumed they were still in use, even there was nothing to keep us off of them—in fact, some old railway ties were fitted together for a pedestrian bridge off of the trail that we were on, so we walked onto the tracks.

Looking both ways, and carrying one of my Nikon D-SLRs, I had an idea for a specific shot. Unfortunately, it was late morning and the sun was high in the sky.

Nothing like I had imagined.

I crouched low and took the shot anyway, thinking that the image might come to nothing but at least it might inspire me to return. Here's the photo (I took several, from both directions, but this is the shot that gave me the inspiration):

It was several days later that I even took a look at the photos that I shot on that hike. When I finally did, last week, I turned to this photo and edited it as much as I could in PSP (it had been so long since I had even thought of Luminar AI that I totally forgot I had the program on my computer).

So, I first ran the RAW image through a feature in PSP that does highlight recovery. The sky was blown out and I knew there were clouds in there, somewhere, though there was nothing I could do to bring them back in this case. I then upped the colour saturation, added contrast and fill light, adjusted the white balance, and that was it.

As you can see, the photo above is pretty boring. But I wasn't looking at this image as an end result: it was a template on which I would work, should the time and weather cooperate enough for me to return to the spot.

Because I've been playing with AI a lot while working on my murder mysteries, Dark Water and The Watcher, I had an idea: what if I uploaded my photo into Perplexity and gave it some parameters for altering my photo?

So I did just that. I asked the AI tool to modify the provided photo but to only make the following changes:

• change the time of day to pre-sunrise
• give the image a sense of a dark mood by providing a bit of fog over the tracks
• give the trees an autumn look

I had the tool keep all other aspects of the photo the same and to make this enhanced image still look like a photograph. Here's what it did:

It was almost perfect, pretty much what I had imagined. But I thought the generated image was a bit too dark for my liking.

I was about to ask Perplexity to lighten the overall image a bit but then I told myself that this was still my photo. I still wanted some control.

So I loaded this new image into PSP and added more fill light and a hint more vibrancy. And this is the end result:

Thoughts?

The question is, whose photo is it? Is it still mine? Is it all an AI rendering, with me adding a few final modifications that weren't controlled by AI?

When I used Luminar AI in the past to make enhancements to my photos, I still considered the images as mine. I composed and captured the image with my camera and I had performed many manual edits to the image. I certainly didn't give Luminar AI credit for the end result, though I always tagged the photo as an enhanced image.

I also composed and captured this new image, knowing full well that it wasn't going to be the end picture. I still manually edited the photo but then let an AI tool, under my direction, create what I had imagined. And I then took that generated image and performed more manual edits.

It's definitely an enhanced image but it's still my photo. I could wait for the right conditions and return to the spot, hoping to capture the same thing. And perhaps I will do that.

But this is the look I wanted to create and I have it now. I'm keeping it.

It's mine.

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Pothole

On the evening after DW and I completed our 20-kilometre run down the Jacques Cartier River, back at our campsite, we were too tired to think about dinner.

It had been a long day. We had awakened at 6:00 to make breakfast and tear down our site. Because our trip to Parc National de la Jacques-Cartier had been sort of last minute, after plans to cycle around Lac-St-Jean with friends had fallen through, we weren't able to get our site for five nights. We were able to book it for three, but someone else had reserved it for the forth night.

That meant that we had to vacate the spot by 1 pm. We were able to book another site at the campground, but couldn't move in until after 2, as it was also occupied.

Because we had booked a shuttle to the river put-in at 8 am, it meant that we had to tear down our site before we left for our paddle. There was no way that we'd get back to our site before we had to vacate the spot after our paddle.

So we ate, packed up our equipment, throwing it all in our car, and we drove to the park's visitor centre, where we could leave our Niro while we ran the river.

After our paddle, when we had our kayaks safely secured to the roof of the Niro, we drove to our new site, set up camp, washed our wetsuits, and showered. It was my first shower in three days and it felt so good.

But when DW and I were starting to think about dinner, we just didn't have the energy to cook.

"Since we're cleaned and in fresh clothes," I suggested, "why don't we drive into Stoneham and have a bite there?"

DW needed no convincing.

On a Google search for places to eat, we discovered a microbrewery-restaurant that was highly rated, so our minds were set.

La Souche is located near a golf course and was quite busy when we arrived, though we were able to get a table on their patio right away. A QR code on the table took us to a Web page that listed their available beer, and there were plenty.

One thing that pleasantly surprised me was that many of the brews on offer had a reasonable or low alcohol content. I find so many Québec breweries that produce beer with such a high alcohol content as to make them tough to drink if you're driving.

Many listed brews had a normal 5 percent or lower. My eyes fell to a particular brew that I thought would be perfect with the burger with brie and bacon that made me drool over the menu.

'Perfect' is the key word.

Nid De Poule dry stout (3.5% ABV)
La Souche Microbrasserie
Stoneham-et-Tewkesbury QC

Appearance: deep walnut brown with a thin, beige, creamy head that settled quickly to a thin cap, then a thin lace, and finally to only a few bubbles around the edge of the glass.

Nose: coffee and chocolate, the latter being ever so subtle. A great roast on the malt.

Palate: dry with a dark-roasted coffee and bitter chocolate complementing each other. It felt both light in the mouth but full-bodied in flavour. The finish was short and dry with a taste of molasses, though not sweet.

Overall impression: When I took my first sip, I told DW that this was the best stout I've had in ages. It was perfect. When our server came to check on us, I also told her that the stout was perfect, the best I've had in a long time.

That's saying a lot. I've had some amazing stouts over the years.

As expected, it went well with my burger, the dryness making the juiciness of the beef even better. When we finished our meal, the server told me that my receipt could be used in the shop to get 15 percent off any purchase, so I took advantage of the offer. They had only four cans of the Nid De Poule in their fridge and I took all of them.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺

As I said, it's a perfect stout: one worth seeking out. I have only made inquiries as to where I can find La Souche beer in the Ottawa area, and there seems to be many places on the Gatineau side of the river, so I'll be sure to check them out for this brew. I'm interested in trying other beer from this brewer.

Last month, I said that I felt as though I had lost my taste for beer, but our trip to the Laurentians and Saguenay had revived my love of good craft beer, and I had many on the trip. Nid De Poule (which literally translates to English as chicken's nest but is jargon for pothole) was only the start. I'll share more great beer finds next week.

Cheers!

Exploration and Remembrance

DW and I hadn't stood in that room more than 31 years.

In searching for a place to go for a hike, DW stumbled upon an interesting adventure at the Mackenzie King Estate, in Gatineau Park. We've been to this popular destination many times over the years but hadn't been there for an event since July of 1994.

That event had been our wedding.

But for this event, for which we had to make a reservation, was an escape-room style of activity that would see us exploring parts of the estate that we haven't seen before and have us return to a couple of spots where we celebrated our union—one place that we hadn't seen since that joyous day. DW discovered this adventure last weekend and booked us in for this past Sunday.

At the Moorside garage, you are given a backpack that contains various items that you need to complete your quest, such as a garden trowel, a notebook, and various other items. The backpack has three small pockets on the back, all held closed with combination locks that you unlock by following various clues.

You also have a clipboard with a crossword puzzle that you'll also fill out as you successfully complete tasks.

While we've been to the Moorside property, the gardens, and the abbey ruins countless times, we had never been across the road at the Kingswood cottages and Kingsmere Lake. If not for this quest, I may have lived my whole life without having explored this side of the estate.

Although many of the clues and components of this challenge are designed for families with kids, some of them are actually quite challenging. At times, we could have used Kid 1, who is a whiz at escape-room puzzles. We asked her to join us but she's at that age where she doesn't want to do much with her parents.

We've all been there.

At one point in the quest (I'm trying to not give anything away), we found ourselves at the old archway that used to be the entrance to a bank in Ottawa. This was the spot where DW and I held our wedding ceremony. No visit to the Mackenzie King Estate is complete without a stop here.

For many years, the house at Moorside was used as a tea room, where the public could sit at tables and have various refreshments. In late 1993, as DW and I were choosing venues for our wedding reception, dinner, and dancing, we reached out to the NCC to see if we could book it.

The person on the other end of the phone line had to call us back, as they had never rented the space for a wedding before. DW and I were shocked: how could we be the first?

While countless people had asked permission to use the grounds for wedding photos, no one had ever tried to reserve the tea room. We were the first.

When we were called back, we were told that we could rent the place under a few conditions: first, the estate was open to the public and we couldn't stop anyone from visiting the archway ruins or standing in attendance through the ceremony (we had some curious spectators that stood back, away from the ceremony but no one chose to stand in the archway for photos while we were there).

Second, the tea room was open to the public until 4:00 so we weren't allowed access until the last customer was gone and the staff had time to prepare the room for our dinner. We also had to use the caterers for the tea room, as they were under contract as the sole company to provide food service.

This was fine by DW and me.

We were invited, one evening before the wedding date, to choose the menu for our special dinner. The kitchen staff had prepared several options for us to try and they were all delicious, so after our choices we knew that our guests would be in for a treat.

It was one of the most memorable meals we've ever had.

This weekend, for the escape-room quest, DW and I found ourselves back in the room where we had that meal more than 31 years ago. This time, it looked very different because there is presently no tea room with service. The room is largely vacant.

But when DW and I stood in that room, we envisioned that day, with the head table and various other tables around this main hall and the two other side rooms. We remembered the dancing. We remembered the starry sky and the gentle breeze that kept even the mosquitoes at bay.

We completed the quest in about two hours (they give you three) and then returned the backpack, clipboard, and all other items to the starting point before getting in our car and heading out of the Gatineau Park, which had already started showing signs of autumn foliage (this was the last full day of summer).

It had been such a lovely day. We were able to explore new parts of the Mackenzie King Estate and learn more about our tenth prime minister whilst journeying back to a time when this place was held special just for us. I highly recommend taking this free adventure.

Happy Wednesday!

Round Three

I've given it enough time.

When I finished my second draft of Dark Water, I gave it to four people to read, in the hopes that I would get some feedback and criticism. Three are dear friends; the forth person, DW, who is always my biggest critic and biggest supporter.

One friend left a couple of comments on the shared online document but has been silent for a few weeks. Another friend said that she'd read through the full story, first, and then go through a second time and leave her comments.

At the time of writing this post, I haven't heard anything from her other than for her to tell me that she's enjoying the book.

Another friend didn't commit to a timeline for reading Dark Water and I haven't heard from her, either. And I understand: people are busy and have lives of their own.

DW downloaded the book onto her iPad and read the first two chapters while we were on vacation, whenever we had downtime. And she provided comments right away, tearing the content to shreds (in a good way, I'm sure). But since we've been home, she's fallen back into her regular routine and hasn't touched the book.

While I appreciate my wife's and my friends' offer to review my book, I can no longer wait.

DW hit on a great point right from the start of the story and I've given it a lot of thought. I've worked out changes I want to make, based on her feedback, and I want to address it while everything's fresh in my head.

I'm ready to start on the third draft of Dark Water.

This means that while there are no major changes, there is one significant alteration that will bring a bit more suspense. It also introduces a new minor character, and I've fleshed him out already.

I still hope that my friends and DW continue to read what they have. While the second chapter has the significant change, I don't think it'll be an issue if they don't read it. If they come to the part in the book with the new character, they might be lost for a bit but I'm hoping they'll get through it.

And of course, as I read the story, myself, for the third time, I expect that things with jump out if they don't make sense, and I can correct them.

It's been more than a month since I've looked at Dark Water. And, indeed, I had even started work on the next Calloway and Hayes mystery, The Watcher, so I hope that this third reading will be approached with fresh eyes.

Stay tuned.

River Run

We want to do this again but next time, we'll rent.

When DW and I decided to go to Parc National de la Jacques-Cartier, a few weeks ago, we had seen a video of people kayaking on the river, on sit-on-top boats, negotiating some big rapids. If they could do that in those kayaks, we thought, then surely we could run that river in our sit-in kayaks.

But could we really? I mean, the kayaks in that video were pretty short—no more than 10 feet long, we figured, if not shorter.

We knew from watching various videos that there were some sit-on-top kayaks that can handle various rapids. There are also much shorter, whitewater kayaks that are specifically designed for these kinds of waterways.

DW and I have 14-foot touring kayaks that are specifically designed for flat water and open water, where the only white water you encounter is white caps on wind-swept waves. Our kayaks aren't really designed for white water. Sure, they can easily negotiate Class I rapids (swift-moving water) and are capable of handling Class II rapids (more white water in swift currents), but they aren't really recommended for Class III rapids, where you have carved channels, lots of white water, and elevation changes.

I've seen kayaking enthusiast Ken Whiting handle Blakeney Rapids on the Mississippi River, between Almonte and Pakenham, in a Delta 15.5 GT kayak (what a beauty!). As he states in the video, these Delta kayaks aren't built for quick manoeuvres, so dodging rocks can be a challenge if you don't have enough time.

He explains that knowing how to read white water plays an extremely important role in negotiating rapids. And DW and I lack that knowledge and experience.

Blakeney Rapids is far more challenging than anything the rapids on the Jacques Cartier River offers because of its narrow channel and big rocks, so we thought we'd give our river a go. If the rapids looked too difficult or hard to navigate with our long kayaks, we'd portage.

And so we ran the 20K river in our Delta 14 kayaks.

Despite what I said about this run in my previous video and at the beginning of this video, we ran every set of rapids except the first Class II rapids (we thought there were too many rocks) and the mandatory portage of a set of Class III rapids. How did we fare? See for yourself.

In the nearly five hours of this run, I put more scratches on the hull of my kayak that I had put in the five seasons that I had my Delta 12.10. I guess I've fully broken it in (and, thankfully, not broken the kayak itself).

Will we run more white water in the future? You betcha, but probably not until water levels are higher (maybe, next spring).

As always, if you liked my video, give it a Thumbs Up but most importantly, subscribe to my YouTube channel. It helps the algorithm so that more people can find my content.

Happy Monday!

Final Rest

DW and I could have driven all the way home from Tadoussac. The drive is only about eight and a half hours, meaning that by the time we had checked out and were on the road, we could have been home that evening (allowing for a couple of stops for fuel and meals).

Ferry crossing at Tadoussac, looking up the Saguenay River.

But we didn't want to get home late and exhausted. We've always promised ourselves that at the end of a trip, when we walk through the door, that we'll put everything away right away.

This would mean that first and foremost, we'd have to take our kayaks off the roof of our car. We'd have to wash them (it's good practice to remove whatever had collected on the hull before you put the kayak into different waterways) before we hung them on the wall in our garage, make sure our gear was dry and put away, where they belong, and bring in any other gear that needed to be cleaned, separately.

We do this after any kayaking trip.

Our car was stuffed full of camping gear, including our tent, which was wet from when we packed it up. We wanted to set it up in our backyard and let the sun and air get at it, to make sure it was completely dry before we rolled it back up in its bag, which also needed to dry.

Having camped for a week and kayaking five times, the car was full of sand and other dirt, so I wanted to fully vacuum it out. The Niro could also use a wash on the outside but that's not a critical issue: I could take it to a car wash another day.

Plus, laundry needed to go into the wash.

There was no way that DW and I would feel like doing all of that if we had driven all day from Tadoussac, so we agreed that we'd stop somewhere along the way; somewhere that would be a great ending to our trip.

I told DW, before we left for our vacation, to leave that final detail to me. She thrives on planning and organizing our trips, but I'm also pretty good at planning, too.

I found a Bed & Breakfast spot that was along the St. Lawrence river, just a half hour west of Québec City. It was an old house that had the feel of late-Victorian times with some modern amenities.

It's called La Demeure du Capitaine—The Captain's Mansion.

Pauline, the host, put a lot of work into the rooms, where the main and upper floors were designed for guests. She and her family lived in the basement. DW and I were given a grand room on the main floor with an even grander private bathroom. Even a part of the back porch, which looked out toward the St. Lawrence, was for us only (the bedroom windows looked out onto this porch area).

We checked in, got settled, and then headed down the street to a great brew pub, L'Esprit de Clocher–Microbrasserie & Le Baldaquin Resto-Pub. Reservations were recommended but on a Sunday night, DW and I didn't think we'd need them.

We were wrong. The place was packed and we had to wait about 20 minutes just to get a seat at the bar. But that was okay, as the bartender—who was also our server—was a nice man who was great to talk to.

The food was great and the beer even better, and I'll have a post next week about some memorable brews of the trip.

By the time we were done dinner, we were done overall. It had been a long day and we still had a considerable drive the next day, so we got back to our room and called it a night.

Breakfast was served just after 8 the next morning, and if I'm going to be honest, it was the only disappointing part of this B&B. I mean, the house and rooms were so immaculately kept, with so many decorations that we felt almost afraid to touch anything, but that wasn't a big deal.

Breakfast consisted of croissants and baguettes with a few spreads, apple or orange juice, coffee or tea, and a few pieces of fruit. That's it. No protein, no fibre (or very little). We quickly ate our meal because there wasn't much of it, grabbed our belongings, and were on the road before 9.

The drive home was uneventful and we arrived with plenty of time to get all of the chores that I listed at the beginning of this post accomplished before dinner. Though, when all was said and done, we were too tired to be interested in cooking, and ordered in, instead.

Like almost every other evening of our trip, we found ourselves in bed at an early hour. The realization that we were home and in our own beds brought the exhaustion of our trip to the forefront.

When I started writing about our trip, a week ago, I said that I always needed a vacation after a vacation to recover. And this one was no exception.

In fact, this vacation showed me that I'm no spring chicken, that I'm out of shape, and I need much more recovery time than with previous trips. Even this week, I've felt my age and have been tired.

But we're already planning our next big vacation, that next major trip. And I had better start preparing myself for it now.

Happy Friday!

Tadoussac

It was so nice to finally sleep in a real bed, in a real room, with four walls.

I tried my best to find my old love for camping but I just couldn't do it. And on the last morning in a tent, when we awoke to steady rain, I was reminded of another reason I don't like to camp.

Tearing down our site in the rain.

Our tent had to go in its packing bag wet and we had no place to lay it out to dry for the rest of the trip, which meant that our car started to smell funky after a couple of days. But that was okay because after seeing beluga whales swimming in a bay, we were headed to a proper hotel.

And by proper, I mean the most prestigious hotel in Tadoussac: the Hotel Tadoussac.

This hotel has been around since the 1940s and is an old-world resort hotel with tennis courts, an outdoor shuffleboard area, and even an area on the lawn for croquet. Muskoka chairs looked out onto the bay.

The room was a bit dated but, by God, we had a proper room with a comfortable bed.

We checked in, got settled, and then headed straight to dinner. We chose a food truck that was just outside the town—Casse-croûte Le Connaisseur—which has been in business since 1966. The food was great and inexpensive, which is what we needed after spending a lot of money on breakfast and lunch.

We wandered the town afterwards but turned in early, something that we had been doing every night so far on this trip.

The next day, after breakfast at a café near the hotel, we suited up in our Farmer John wetsuits and took our kayaks down to the beach. The water was freezing cold but we were comfy in our layers, and the air was mild.

We were hoping to spy some whales in Tadoussac Bay and at the mouth of the Saguenay River, and the tide was out. We paddled to a point but as soon as we reached the Saguenay, a gale-force wind hit and forced us into a little bay near the ferry crossing for shelter.

We decided that it wasn't worth the risk of trying to get past the two ferries that connect Highway 138 on the northern and southern shores of the Saguenay. Instead, we worked our way back into Tadoussac Bay, where the water and wind were calmer.

We later hiked a trail that led to the point we had paddled around and we could see several whales, including belugas and minke whales, and we realized that we had probably been paddling close to whales but were so focused on keeping a straight line and seeking shelter that we didn't look out for them.

Fuzzy capture of a minke whale from a 10x zoom on my smartphone.

I'm going to maintain that we kayaked with whales. Prove me wrong.

We visited a brewery in the afternoon and had a fantastic dinner at an upscale restaurant to celebrate our final night of our vacation. It was a great trip, with five days of kayaking, half a dozen or more hikes, and some great whale spotting.

The next morning, before checking out of the hotel, we climbed a trail near a giant sand dune and got a great view of the St. Lawrence River. We promised ourselves that we'd return to this region soon.

Possibly, next year.

We checked out, took our Niro across the Saguenay River on the ferry (it's free), and headed home, though we weren't planning to make the drive in one day. There was still one more night before we'd be sleeping in our own beds.

I'll wrap up the tale of our Québec vacation tomorrow. I've finished the video of our Jacques Cartier River run, which I'll share on YouTube in the coming days, and I'll start work on our Saguenay Fjord kayak adventure soon.

Stay tuned. 

Saguenay

In the Fjord

The day after DW and I had paddled a 20K stretch of the Jacques Cartier River, over several technically challenging sets of rapids, I was pretty beat. I realized in the five months since I had lost my job, I had become fairly inactive. I still sat at my home-office desk, but instead of working for somebody else I wrote my novel, Dark Water.

Only occasionally would I get on my bike for a ride: I can count the number of times that I rode it on one hand. The most exercise I'd get would be from mowing the lawn, but the summer's heat meant that our lawn dried up, and I went more than a month without having to mow it.

In our first three days in Parc National de la Jacques-Cartier, we had kayaked three times and hiked two trails. I covered most of that activity in a video on my YouTube channel—if you haven't seen it already, check it out.

I'll have the 20K river run video next week.

On our forth day, I was pooped. DW and I wanted to climb one of the hills on another trail, but I knew that if I hiked Les Loups trail, I'd be done for the rest of the day (and likely, for longer than that), and our vacation had only just begun.

I wanted to enjoy our trip, so I relaxed at our campsite while DW took to the trail.

We spent five evenings in Jacques Cartier Park and it was so beautiful there. We walked another trail at the end of the forth day and took some night shots up the valley, hoping to see aurora borealis, but weren't so lucky. We got a good night's sleep because the next day, we were moving on.

The drive from Jacques Cartier Park to Chicoutimi was nothing short of spectacular. Our Niro worked hard to climb steep hills, nearly depleting its batteries, but would get nearly a full recharge as we coasted down the other sides. At our peak height, we reached nearly 900 metres above sea level, the highest we had been since our trip to Peru, but even that altitude was nothing compared to the Andes.

We stopped in Chicoutimi for lunch and to visit the tourist information office for maps of the region, but then it was on, down the southern shore of the Saguenay River to Baie Éternité and the Saguenay Fjord National Park, where we would spend two more nights in our tent.

The sight wasn't as 'luxurious' as it was in Jacques Cartier Park but we had been spoiled there with a comfort station across from us that had stainless-steel sinks with hot water for washing our dishes. This comfort station was down the road from our new site and there was only one toilet and one shower stall.

After we set up our campsite, we drove to L'Anse De Tabatière, a hiking trail and lookout point for the fjord, for a sunset view. It was stunning.

The next day, we put our kayaks into Baie Éternité and headed out toward the Saguenay River. We had to be mindful of the tide, which was as high as four metres, as we didn't want to face paddling back into the bay as the tide was pulling out. This meant that we didn't get into the bay until almost 10:00, when the tide was out.

There are cliff faces in this bay that are nothing short of breath-taking and I'm looking forward to seeing my video footage in the next week or so. The wind was really blowing as we paddled and the waves were pretty strong but our kayaks were built for these conditions.

We made it out into the river and stuck close to shore, as the water was even rougher out there. We were able to make a stop in a little cove below the statue for Notre-Dame-du-Saguenay (though we couldn't see it from our vantage) for a rest before heading back into the bay.

Our paddle was just over nine kilometres but in some ways it seemed like fewer because the time flew, though in other ways, seemed longer because we had to fight the wind and waves.

As with our first night in this area, we dined in L'Anse-Saint-Jean, the only area with seemingly good restaurants. The food was good and the local beer was even better.

The next morning, we awoke to steady rain, which was not ideal as we were packing up our campsite. At least we had had the forethought to pack up our kitchen tent before going to bed, but we still had a wet tent and groundsheet to pack into the Niro.

We drove back to Chicoutimi, stopping in La Baie on our way for breakfast, where we found a great café, Ka-fée. Their hot chocolate was the best I've ever had (and I've been to France and Italy!) and their homemade pistachio spread was to die for on a fresh-baked croissant.

In Chicoutimi, we visited le Musée de la Petite Maison Blanche, a small house that somehow survived being washed away when the nearby Chicoutimi River flooded the neighbourhood in July, 1996. I remembered seeing news footage at the time, and how the houses on either side of this one didn't fare as well.

We crossed the bridge to the northern shore and made our way to Sainte-Rose-du-Nord, a small village that overlooks the Saguenay. We had a simple lunch before moving on.

Our next stop was at Baie-Sainte-Marguerite, which is still part of the Saguenay Fjord National Park, but on the opposite shore to where we had camped. This bay is famous for being a feeding ground for the various whales that swim up the Saguenay River.

There's a nearly three-kilometre hike up to a viewpoint into the bay and looking up the Saguenay River. And when you reach this lookout, at Halte au Béluga, you are rewarded with not only stunning landscape but also views of whales frolicking in the bay.

We saw countless beluga whales and possibly some minke whales. We also saw a seal, with his head bobbing above the water surface.

Now, mind you, the whales were far away, as much as a half a kilometre or more, so it was hard to capture closeup photos, even with my 500mm lens. After trying to capture a few shots, I put my camera down and just gazed and took in the aquatic activity.

We spent at least a half hour or so at this lookout point before heading back to the car. Our travel wasn't done. We still had to make our way to the small town of Tadoussac, where we'd be spending the next two nights—finally, not in a tent!

Stay tuned.