Glebe Collegiate Institute - Lux Glebana Yearbook (Ottawa, Ontario Canada)

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7 . UX GLEBANACKQ All too soon our visit was over, and we were once more on the highway. We paid a hurried visit to Halifax, before starting back by the St. john valley route. This grand old city im- pressed us very much with her guarding citadel, old churches and lovely gardens. Halifax is justly proud of her Government House and it was interesting to see the rooms of this fine old building, and to gaze on the famous bed where King Edward the Seventh and other notables have slept while in Halifax. On, our journey led us to Truro, Amherst, Fredericton and the St. john Valley. Fredericton is very like Ottawa in many ways. The park by the St. john River and the Parliament Buildings is similar to sections of our driveway, and the provincial Experimental Farm adds a homelike touch. The St. john Valley is extremely pretty and picturesque, and the cultivated farmland along the river is distinctly contrasted with the wild beauty of the hills and river in the Mata- pedia Valley. We sped through many little towns with quaint and queer sounding names. Every evening the French families would gather outside their homes, the old folk gener- ally in rocking chairs, and the young folk in odd two-seated swings. Night driving in New Brunswick was enlivened by the tre- mendous number of toads and frogs which kept hopping across the road, ,perhaps at- tracted by our head- lights. They managed three hops before extermination. Deer were more agile and our score was nil. At Riviere du Loup we connected with our eastward route. Here we stopped overnight at an inn, which reminded one of the old French Canadian manor houses with its carved wood- work and dormer windows. The city was gaily decorated in honour of some religious QASPALERE FLAMMAM festival. At Levis we climbed a hill more like the Rockcliffe ski jump than a highway, and rolled along the south shore of the St. Lawrence to the Quebec bridge. That bridge is marvel- lous and the panorama both up and down the river from our moving observation post ex- tremely interesting. There is a nice park at the north end for picnics. Homeward we sped. Three Rivers Hashed past, we were on familiar ground and soon wc were engulfed in the traffic of Montreal. A short jaunt and Ottawa once more. Twenty-Hve hundred miles of Canada had been covered by our flying wheels, and what memories we retain - majestic rivers, busy towns, quiet villages nestling by the mighty ocean, the murmur of surf, the puff of a por- poise, a sea-gull's scream, quaint homes and customs-oh, many, many more all woven into the pattern of a perfect holiday. A beautiful country is our heritage. Anderson:- You ave that cloak-room at- . . 3 ,, tendant a big tip, old boy. ohnson:- Well he ave me a 'ood coat! v g g HX' 'ls 'lf Bob Davis:- You're my idea of a girl. Anon:- Well, I hope you're the kind of a bov who believes in drivin an idea home. , . g xx Insurance 55 METCALFE STREET QQ PHONE QUEEN 1 998 Insure in Sure Insurance - J. STUART BINKS alsol'

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UX GLEBANACEQQ- settled in beauty at the head of Chedabucto Bay, and our destination, finally appeared around one of these corners. This town combines the atmosphere of the country town with that of the sea-side town, and boasts as one of its homes the summer residence of a former Lieutenant- Governor of the province. To travel- stiffened limbs, a stay of two weeks beside the smiling bay seemed very welcome. The prospect of sailing and fishing made cars suddenly distasteful. An old fisherman's two master, with tanned sails, was ours for the length of our stay, and many happy hours were spent on board. Sailing gayly down the lovely land-locked harbour, we would foam through the tide rips at the narrow entrance. Keeping the black buoy to starboard and the red to port, we would safely con our staunch craft past the old fort and lighthouse, and with eased sheets enjoy the more boisterous sailing in Chedabucto Bay. A big tramp steamer, the Keret of Bergen, was loading lumber from booms in the bay, and the boat used to sail very close to the ship and then tack suddenly, probably causing the sailors to wonder what the city folk would do next. The exhilarating motion, and the fresh salt air would send us back with glowing cheeks and ravenous appetites. An extremely interesting excursion was made one day to Canso, a fishing town about thirty miles distant on the Straits of Canso in the south-east tip of Nova Scotia. A Hsh Cannery there holds much of instruction as well as interest. Rows and rows of fish were hanging in the smoking room. Great quantities of fish are brought in every day, and the speed with which they are cleaned is remarkable. The finnan haddie which later reaches the Ottawa stores is seen in a new light after this visit. The chief point of interest, however, was the cable- station where messages are sent and received from abroad. Some of the latter, according to the ones the operator read to us, must have been written by people in holiday mood. Outside the town is a direction Ending station by which the location of all sea-going ships is verified QShades of Trigonometryj. One could spend hours at the harbour. A few tramps and freighters were among the many fishing ships, for the most part two-and-three masters . -QEPALERE FLAMMAM Tied to one of the wharves was a lifeboat from a ship, which earlier we had seen burning a few miles out, and which had to be abandoned. Also riding at anchor, was a ship with its Hag at half-mast, as one of her crew had been washed overboard. The road back from Canso had many quaint and sometimes barren looking fishing villages. The Heet was home for the day, and nets were spread on the beaches to dry. In one of these villages there are stories of false lights which used to lure the ships to the rocks, and of the wrecks later plundered. Near Port Felix, a rather bleak little hamlet, we thought we saw an iceberg far out on the Atlantic. No wonder the water was cold for swimming! There are many barrens around this Part liter- ally covered with blueberries. When the negroes go blueberry picking, they sometimes take their mattresses with them and stay all night. Most of the darkies are very friendly and beam and wave when you pass. As we were staying in Guysborough a few weeks, and as the hotel was mainly for over- night guests, we rented an old Baptist parson- age. This was a comfortable house, one hundred and sixty years old. The ministers' wives used to keep school there for small children. One rather interesting morning was spent on Long Beach, an unique formation of sand forming a natural break-water at the mouth of the harbour. The sea-gulls were very amusing to watch and hear. Their screeching became even Wilder when we came near their nests, hollowed among the stones. They swooped down at us and would have willingly peeked our heads. 44910

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UX GLEBANACKAQ A 200 MILE QAEPALERE FLAMMAM CANOE TRIP on the OTTAWA x o 'rnosia of our My 1 X 19 5 Oiseau Rock - a good 30 readers wht, Vf fvf' X Q' 1 i ' lU1lCS to show for our first have explored ' --' ' d2y7S work. the waters of 15: The next morning we the Ottawa river, this effort gf decided to ex lore. Can to describe a trip under- Y - -, you imagine aphuge rock taken last summer by six -grii . goo feet high rising sheer up collegiate students, will per- 2 T 525 from the water? Following haps recall the magnihcent ' a steep and didicult path we scenery, and bring to their -J-:L--931 Q A STE reached the summit, to dis- recollection some happy reminiscences. If it induces any who are not familiar with its scenic beauty to make such a journey the travelogue will have been well worth while. The lovely bays, inlets, interesting islands and diversified scenery on either shore cannot be fully appreciated from the verandah of a sum- mer cottage, or even the deck of a motor boat, as many of its prettiest stretches of water are only accessible by canoe. It is therefore from the romantic viewpoint of a canoeist that I describe our experiences. DON HEWITT 5-A narration of this We made a belated start one Saturday after- noon in july. After loading a shaky-looking motor truck with our three canoes, dunnagc bags, provisions and camp equipment, we parked ourselves anywhere we could find room and left Britannia Bay in a drizzle of rain. This developed into a steady downpour, and on reaching Pembroke we clambered from be- neath the dripping canoes, cramped and soaking wet. After unloading, the truck driver bade us 'Bon Voyage' and left us to make camp and prepare for an early start next day. At dawn we loaded the canoes and shoved off with a favorable wind, happy to feel that the rising sun promised a fine day. Paddling steadily for about six miles we sighted numerous lighthouses and small islands, while on the Ontario shore we could hear the rapids of the Petawawa river as they mingled with the Ottawa. Rounding Fort William on the Quebec side we noticed .that the scenery was becoming more rugged. Unable to find a more suitable camping spot, we landed at sundown near a deserted hunting lodge at the foot of a huge cliff, and-immediately realized we had reached cover a small lake on the top. We all enjoyed a good swim in it, but found later that it was full of blood- snakes. Rambling over the top we were able to enjoy the superb view from several clearings in the trees. Looking at im- mense cliffs on both sides of the river it was not hard to believe the deepest river in the world lay below. suckers and water We spent the rest of the week exploring this lovely stretch of water known as Deep River. About twenty-five miles from Oiseau Rock at the small French town of Des Joachims, we encountered a long stretch of rapids, necessi- tating several tedious portages. Rather than proceed, we made camp, and the next day climbed a Ere-ranger's tower on the top of a 1,zoo foot hill. The View was marvellous. In the distance we could see the cliffs of the river beyond Oiseau Rock. Tired and hungry but with several valuable snapshots to remind us of our venture, we made our way back to camp. Fine weather and favourable winds aided our return to Pembroke, and with just a week of our holidays gone we again camped near the lumber town. The journey down the river from here proved 'even more interesting. Two summers previously, four of us had paddled from Ottawa to Pembroke and back, and this experi- ence saved us from repeating former mistakes. Instead of attempting to shoot the treacherous Allumette Rapids, we jogged around a snye on the Ontario side. However, a big wind had lashed Westmeath Lake into a seething mass of whitecaps, and, as one of the gang remarked later, he was not sure on which side of the gunwale he was paddling. Further down, the alslle