42.5 miles, 9 hours 20 minutes
 |
| Portneuf marina |
How could a day that started out so problematically end so
perfectly? So far this week I have
confronted a ferret (cute), a ground hog (cute, eating a Sabrette hot dog right
out of the wrapper), and this morning at 5:30, a skunk barring the way to the Porta-Potti. I threw a stick; it hissed. I threw a second stick; it hissed but backed
off a bit. A third stick gave me the advantage
sorely needed, and I was in.
But … was I in at a high cost? A Porta-Potti at 5:40 AM is a place for the
quiet contemplation of the wiles of a rodent.
Was he repositioning outside for the perfect shot? Had he signaled his skunk friends for group
participation? Sadly, the ventilation
slits around the top of a Porta-Potti are not suitable for surveillance, and I
was in the dark. I could wait him
out; I’ve spent a lot of time in bathrooms and as Porta-Pottis go, this one was
pretty nice. But my book was in the
boat, and the river was calling ….
I could use my pack as a shield, but everything I needed
to live with for the next two weeks was in it … too smelly to contemplate.
So I did what I had to do: I hit that door like Ray Rice
hits the seven hole behind Vonte Leach – I wished Vonte was up front on this
one – and blew past that skunk before he could get his tail up.
Arriving back at the boat unscathed, I later felt silly for ‘fist-pumping’
my achievement. Running past a confused
rodent just isn’t that big of a deal, certainly not deserving of a fist pump.
What is a big deal is my current port of call,
Portneuf, about 40 miles upstream from Quebec City. Nancy, the charming marina
proprietor, met me at the dock and within 4 minutes I had a cold beer, a plate
of pate, and a key to the men’s room. A
crowd gathered around, chattering in French and clearly bemused by the
spreading word of my adventure. I needed
a friendly port … especially after this morning’s unpleasantness, and I’m
settled in for a pleasant night. OAR VOI
!!
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