It was a friend of my father, I think his name was Peter who used to make regular trips up to his favourite camping and hiking spot north west of Toronto called the French River. I don't know why but there was always something about that name that made me want to see it. or maybe it was Peters constant raving about this wonderful place. "The waters move fast, the fishing is amazing and the sunsets will blow your mind!"
One of the first places I traveled to once I was old enough to get my drivers licence (many many years ago now) was up to the French River.
To be sure, it is as it always was in my minds eye, very dramatic with rocks that flowed in and out of the waters surface. Those twisty pines which just seem to be be able to hang on inany conditions.
"The French River"
Robert.
One of the first places I traveled to once I was old enough to get my drivers licence (many many years ago now) was up to the French River.
To be sure, it is as it always was in my minds eye, very dramatic with rocks that flowed in and out of the waters surface. Those twisty pines which just seem to be be able to hang on inany conditions.
"The French River"
Robert.
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