#34. Meech Lake, Quebec. 1995.

Meech Lake has so many great paddling memories for me.

It was here that I went for my very first canoe ride when I was just a few days old. This is where I first learned to paddle solo in a little birchbark canoe that my Dad tied to the dock with a long rope for me. I would paddle along the shoreline until a gentle tug told me I had come to the end of the line. I would then turn around and zig-zag back the other way until that reassuring jerk stopped me again. I still remember the day my Dad said I didn't need the rope anymore and I could head out on bigger adventures. Meech Lake is also where I first camped with my family, practicing safely in anticipation of trips much farther afield. It's also where I took Reid for our first paddle together. He was good. A beautiful paddler. I was enamoured. I was also horrified when I somehow fell in the water while landing! Later we would get married on the rocky point where my Dad first camped and commuted by canoe and car to Crawley Films. So many memories. Meech has become a touchstone for me. A place to replenish and restore. I can't imagine my life without it. No matter where I am and where I go it is this place, these memories and experiences, that are the foundation of who I am. And for this I am exceedingly grateful. What are your formative places? This is the last week for our daily Paddling Pic. Reid and I have enjoyed sharing our images and stories and hope you like our final few. Maybe it will inspire you to share your own paddling tales!