A bike journey where the path is marked doesn't lend itself to a typical trip narrative. Or rather the sort of narrative it lends itself to would go sort of like this: I got on the bike in Ottawa. I started pedalling. I turned when they said turn. When I got to Kingston, I stopped. The next day, I got on the bike and came back.
So I'm learning to do whitewater canoeing, with the Ottawa Y Canoe Camping Club. Yes, I may have had my ORCA Flatwater III when I was 18, but out there in the bubbly stuff I'm a rank amateur. Here is my trip report.