Early next morning, we dragged ourselves out of bed and landed in the kitchen in dribs and drabs, each of us having filed through the last shower we'd have for a few days. After a bit of last-minute shuffle, we finally slammed the doors on all the extra stuff bulging out of the back of our vehicles and set off for a hearty breakfast at McDonalds.
We stopped on the edge of town to gas up and load the coolers with ice, which is right about when we realized we hadn't properly briefed Charlotte on the fact that we now had another three to four-hour drive in front of us before we could actually get on the river.
Sorry, baby. We should have made that clearer to you.
In any case, we got rolling, only stopped once to pee on the side of the road once, and arrived at Arpin Canoe outfitters in good time.
Before long, we had four canoes all loaded to the gunwales, and we were off!
Sadly, no one had briefed Cody - the West Highland Terrier - on what we were doing either. The look on his whiskery face when he saw everyone scrambling onto the water was priceless.
Adding to the excitement, we discovered that 28 Scouts that had set off on the river ahead of us - a fact which put the girls in a bit of a frenzy to get down the line as quickly as possible to secure a campsite before all the good spots were overrun by annoying boys!
The rest of that story has since washed away down the river, but needless to say, we didn't see much of the girls after they rounded the first bend in the river - much to the bemusement of their exasperated parents!
For the rest of us, it was a pleasant day drifting down the beautiful Restigouche river, getting ourselves acquainted with our new environment, and settling into our new mode of transportation.
While it was clear that Cody still wasn't too sure about the whole thing from the get-go, we had come a long way to be here and were happy to be outdoors; peeling ever further away from work schedules, cell phone reception, and everything else that makes your blood pressure rise...
Unfortunately for the girls, the inevitable happened. We arrived at Hafford to discover the entire campground swarming with prepubescent teenage boys. There were teenage boys crawling all over the place; swimming in the river, catching frogs in the bulrushes, poking sticks into various campfires, fiddling with their tents, and so on...
The Scout leaders were pleasant enough and offered to move some tents to make way for us to camp, but we decided to push on - this time, agreeing to stick together!
* * * * *
Not being able to camp where we had originally planned ruffled our feathers a little bit, but we soon forgot about all that when we pulled onto a small beach at Stillwater, approximately 3 km further down river from Hafford, and 22 km from where we had originally put in at Kedgwick.
A big first day on the Restigouche River.
While the tent pad itself was pretty tight, we moved the fire-pit and picnic table down onto the river flat and managed to fit three tents up there, even if all of us found ourselves sleeping on one slope or another.
With the tents pitched, we got busy preparing supper and taking in our surroundings. It wasn't long into the second campsite beer that we realized we had discovered a hidden gem.
The site was stunning. There were; anglers throwing flies on the far riverbank downstream, the water meandered slowly past our hastily-erected kitchen table, and eagles soared overhead - possibly eyeing up the Westie - who himself, looked on at everyone enjoying themselves with a hint of indifference.
Philip erected the hallowed 'pee stick' nearby, while Deb and Michelle got busy putting the flame to supper. Before long, a wonderful paella was simmering over the fire in a cast-iron skillet.
The conversation was broken only by stolen moments of silence, as we sipped our nice cold beer, and marveled at the wonderful riverside view, framed by steep gullies tipped with spruce trees.
Beautiful!
Of course - as has become standard for me on trips to the Canadian wilderness - our meal was interrupted by a disgruntled Beaver, which brazenly wandered out of the creek beside our campsite, and strutted past us to the main river where he disappeared beneath the crystal water.
Whatever he was thinking, it was clear his mind was fixed on leaving us with little doubt that we had camped in his backyard (not the other way around).
After a twilight swim, we cleared up the supper dishes and flipped through a few half-hearted games of cards.
Afterward, all tuckered out from a long day on the river, Charlotte brushed her teeth and tucked herself into bed with an old copy of Garfield she read with her headlamp. She was the first to admit that the first day on the river had been a long one.
Later that evening, as the sun went down, we were joined by a thousand fireflies, dancing in the tall grass between our campsite and the pee stick.
Somehow, the volume of the creek beside us was turned up to a persistent roar, beneath the distant thunderstorm that kindly passed us by, treating us to a wonderful display of cloud-to-cloud sheet lightning, instead of the drenching it was promising someone else.
How lucky we were to be camping with friends outdoors in such a wonderful place as this!
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