Ivy Lea, Alice, and rain.

The Thousand Islands were a washout.  The weather forecast for this weekend was looking good at first, but by Friday morning rain was in the forecast for late Saturday and also Sunday.  There was indication the rain would not begin until late Saturday so I thought I would go to the campsite I had reserved at Ivy Lea Park in the Thousand Islands on Friday afternoon and stay until Sunday with the hope of having more good weather time for hiking at Landon Bay and Jones Creek on Saturday.

The plan started off quite well.  I was on the highway by 2:00pm Friday, making my way south to Brockville and then west along the beautiful and under-appreciated 1000 Islands Parkway to Ivy Lea Park, a provincial campground by the Thousand Islands Bridge.  Campsite 105, right on the rugged shore of granite and pines.  A filled-in stone foundation of a long-demolished building served as the tent platform with a view downstream to the towering bridge over the deep and turbulent St. Lawrence.  It was warm and sunny.  North Country Public Radio, my favourite NPR affiliate from Canton New York was easy to pick up on the transistor radio so I happily set up camp while David Sommerstein’s popular show The Beat Authority played in the background.  The weather report said only a 30% chance of rain for Saturday.  I was optimistic.  I cooked a great supper and sat looking at boats pass by while I ate.  I took a walk around the park and photographed some of the scenery after.  It was warm and miserable weather seemed far away.  I sat by the campfire in the shadow of the bridge which is impressively lit up at night.  1000 Islands tour boats passed by, one had a band playing on the top deck with a crowd of people having a good time.  It reminded me of an old Labatt’s 50 beer commercial with a similar scene.  I’ve only seen it on Youtube, but some reading this will likely remember seeing it on actual television.  My Dad remembers seeing it being filmed while working in the Thousand Islands as a young learner Ontario Hydro Lineman in the early 1970’s.  I took a late night walk around the park.  Clouds were few, the sky was beautiful.  I stood on the boat dock and across the small bay light shone from vacation home windows.  I walked up to the closed park office and used the wifi from the picnic table outside.  The forecast was looking worse.  Rain was inevitable, and much sooner than originally stated.  I washed up and walked back to camp.

As I had earlier sat by the fire and while I was preparing to retire for the night, I couldn’t help but hear and see the behaviour from the campsite next to mine.  I don’t know the name of the main character, but I’ll refer to her as Alice.  I call her Alice because she reminded me of the song "Pay no attention to Alice" by classic country performer Tom T. Hall which is about a drunk woman whose husband has to put up with everything.  That is exactly what was happening in this example too.  She sounded like her throat was well seasoned with cigarettes, booze, and maybe the odd bag of nails.  She talked all night about how she was going to go swimming.  She also said she felt dizzy and tired but was going to stay awake for a couple of hours until the others got there.  I was worried a whole car load of idiots would show up.  They thankfully never did.    I had bad visions of her swimming for many reasons, mostly because of her safety.  The water is really deep in that channel and the current is strong. 

The rain must have started at around 7:00 am.  I got up at 9:00 and it appeared to have briefly stopped but not for long.  I ended up eating instant oatmeal under the canopy of my tent.  As I looked out at the rainy St. Lawrence, I decided hiking was not going to happen.  I thought about taking refuge at a coffee shop in nearby Gananoque I had read about, but then decided that would get both boring and expensive.  I concluded heading for home was the best plan.  After visiting the park ranger to settle the financial side of my early departure, I hastily dismantled the camp.  As the rain came down, Alice stumbled over wearing a cheap, clear-plastic rain poncho.  She again said she was going swimming after commenting how bad the rain was.  She was then going to build a campfire and then go home, which I didn't quite understand the logic behind since building a fire in the rain isn't really worth doing.  Just before I left at around 11:45am, I saw the long-suffering husband walking her over the hill to the boat dock for a swim.  Oh, she was also hoping to get out on her jet ski even though it was raining too.  "Pay no attention to Alice, she's drunk all the time, hooked on wine, bunches of it, and she ruined her mind."--Tom T. Hall.  I headed towards home but first made a stop for apple cider and apple butter at an orchard just east of Brockville.  After arriving home, I spent the rest of the day doing laundry.  It has not stopped raining since yesterday morning.  Had I stayed, it could have been a repeat of my other past rain-soaked camping catastrophes, the Restoule disaster of 2006 when my poorly engineered campsite became the centre of a waterfall, or the Samuel de Champlain emergency of 2014 when my tent became situated upon a precariously muddy island in an intermittent stream that emerged during a full week of rain.

The camping itself may have been a washout, but as usual, I managed to find some enjoyment in it.  The scenery was beautiful while the weather was still dry and the evening was relaxing.  Of course, Alice was amusing too, but also sad to see and hear.  There are usually good but unfortunate reasons for people to adopt self-destructive behaviour.  Our society is full of problems that lead to these things and we need to be much more compassionate and prepared to help those living in what seems like perpetual difficulty.

Click on the photo to see a larger version.

Site 105 at Ivy Lea on a sunny, warm, September Friday

North span of the Thousand Islands Bridge from Site 105.  Hill Island, fully inside Canada is on the other side (south).  The bridge opened in 1938 and connects Highway 137 in Ontario with Interstate 81 in New York.

Looking west at sunset from Ivy Lea.

Thousand Islands Bridge, north abutment of the Canadian span with cable anchors.

Bridge alight and campfire at night from the campsite.