That's A Paddlin'

As of my 57th birthday (late June of this year), I had never, ever set foot or sat butt in a canoe in my life. At least I don't think I had. And if I'm wrong then surely I have not participated in the paddling part. I mean, why on Earth would I, really? What purpose would that serve me? And where would I even be finding a canoe in my life or travels? I mean I've ridden in plenty of boats in my time roaming around this planet...but a canoe? I don't think so.

Now, I guess if you really wanted to, you could maybe make a case that my trip into the Mbamba swamp in Uganda in 2023 took place in a sort of canoe but those boats were either pole driven or fitted with an outboard motor. In my small-minded view of things, canoes have paddles and not poles and are powered by people, not motors.

If there was ever a place that I would consider a canoe ride appropriate and fitting for the place, it would be Canada. I have no idea why. Canoes were used in places as far flung as what are today the Netherlands and Nigeria like ten or more millennia ago. Canadians (or people who were living there before Canada was Canada) are by no means the inventors of the canoe. But the Great White North just seemed like the place to paddle a canoe for the first time. So when we started planning this trip and there was an opportunity to take a canoe ride where paddling was required and supervision was offered...I was in! All in! Let's break another first-time barrier. 

Isn't that what this whole thing is about, after all?

Canoes for rent. Moraine Lake. Banff National Park. The top picture is Lake Louise.

There are many, many places to rent a canoe in the Canadian Rockies. You can spend $100 CAD and get an hour's paddling in at Emerald Lake in Yoho National Park. Or if you feel like spending a little more, you can get the same amount of time for a cool $160 CAD at Moraine Lake. We didn't take either of those options. If we were going to be canoeing for the first time, we wanted someone watching over us and we wanted a bit of purpose. Plus, it cost just a bit less we'd be OK with that.

Our solution? A guided interpretive tour of the wetlands alongside the mighty (well, it becomes mighty a lot further along anyway...) Columbia River. We figured we'd go find some birds along the edges of the water and in the vegetation growing in the wetlands and if we just happened to have some company in the form of some other canoe-ers and more importantly a trained guide to help us out if anything went wrong, well then all the better. Plus at a cost of just $59 CAD per person for a whole two hours, we'd get something we wanted without paying an arm and a leg. 

Columbia River Paddle out of Invermere, if you must know.

And not that $160 CAD is an arm or a leg or anything.

So how was my first time in a canoe? Honestly, I don't know. Because I still haven't been in a canoe.

On the water on the might Columbia River. But not in a canoe.

So we get to Columbia River Paddle a little early for our guided wetlands tour and we check in. We are the only two signed up. Nobody else. No other people. No numbers. But still guided. One guide (Dominick...and guessing on the spelling) for the two of us. Just the two of us. Cool! 

Ever been in a canoe before? Nope. Figured we'd learn. Ever been in a kayak? Nope to that too. No real experience rowing or paddling any human powered craft ever. Total rookies. Give us life vests and tell us what to do and we'll hope for the best. And no, this is not actually a transcript.

After some quick discussion, it was decided a canoe was probably not for us. Maybe a kayak would be better. Less "tippy". And yes, that was the actual word used. Tippy. We don't want tippy. Kayak sounds fine. No tippy.

That dream of canoeing in Canada? Dead right there and then. At least for 2025. Stupid safety and tippy-ness. Maybe some other time. These blog posts about this trip seem to contain a running list of future Canadian Rockies activities. Maybe canoeing should be added to the list. Maybe.

So we kayaked. In the wetlands. In Canada. On the Columbia River that we followed for a day in Oregon about seven years beforehand. We sat in this plastic shell of a boat and got pushed into the water. We stayed afloat. We got used to the paddling action. We learned how to stop and turn and how to not tip the boat over or anywhere close. We traveled past reeds and under a bridge. We saw some bald eagles and plenty of red-winged blackbirds and heard a lot more birds than we saw. 

And yes, I do know that I can do this in northern Virginia or Maryland or Washington, DC. I know I can go rent a kayak and paddle along the Potomac River or on the Chesapeake Bay or somewhere like that. I know I can pass by wetlands and hear birds. Heck, I even know a spot or two where I can find some nesting bald eagles (hello, Dyke Marsh Wildlife Preserve). Maybe not bald eagles nesting right on the water but it's not too far off. 

Why does this sort of thing even get put in a travel blog when I can do exactly the same thing minutes from my home but choose not to?

Good question.

But seriously...are you looking at the pictures I'm posting here? Those mountains. That crystal clear and super, super calm water. And besides all that, the sense that time is standing still. The idea that work doesn't matter because it's hundreds of miles away and completely inconsequential right at that moment. There's a fee proposal to review? Who cares. Not me. Not on that water. Not beside those mountains. 

Our guide, Dominick (top). And a beaver dam (bottom). Not finding THAT in northern Virginia. 

This whole paddling thing, by the way...not so tough on really calm water with like zero wind and even less current. Maybe that's an obvious statement. I think for our first time in a kayak, I was grateful for the situation. It allowed me to relax and gaze at the Rockies and the few birds and especially the bald eagle nest that eventually revealed two very, very large chicks we saw without worrying about anything else like staying upright or fighting the river. 

I am pretty confident that I didn't lose much being in a kayak rather than a canoe. Yes, sure, there's this romantic image I had of being in some mountain lake (I know the Columbia River is not a lake) and moving my decidedly-not-invented-in-Canada-but-somehow-very-Canadian canoe through the water with some effortless strokes of my paddle. Do I regret the kayak? Maybe just a little bit. I'll put the canoe on my list for next time and I'll stick to my convictions next time. Probably.

Now...when's my next kayaking trip? 

The second bald eagle in the middle photo (the one in the nest) is the baby. It's a pretty big baby.