My eventful night in an oTENTik between Smiths Falls and Perth, Ontario

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Disclosure: During this trip, I was a guest of Parks Canada, which neither reviewed nor approved this post.

I was looking up at the inky, star-spattered sky, contemplating my insignificance in the cosmos, when I heard the crash.

Grabbing the battery-powered lantern Parks Canada had supplied, I grappled with the “on” dial until I had twisted it up all the way to maximum brightness. That light did almost nothing to illuminate the trees behind my oTENTik—a fancy tent I’ll tell you more about shortly.

I was pretty sure the clatter had been caused by an animal, not a human. But what size of animal could make that kind of racket? Are there bears in Lanark County? Could it be that dog I heard howling an hour ago, which I had half convinced myself was a coyote?

Since I was staying alone on the edge of the Tay Canal, I really wasn’t inclined to investigate further. I wrenched open the tent door, scrambled inside and flipped the small lock, which I suspected would do little to protect me from marauding wildlife but was better than nothing. Inside, I changed into pyjamas and crawled under the sleeping bag I’d laid out earlier on one of the oTENTik’s foam mattresses, atop the sheets I’d brought. No further ominous noises emerged from the Great Outdoors.

My heart still thumping a bit, I read for a few minutes, turned off the lantern and settled down to sleep. Almost immediately, right below my head, I heard a sound like a boxcar with a Scottish accent, sliding off some rusty rails.

RRRRRrrrrrrrreeeeee! RRRRRrrrrrrrreeeeee! 

Not a bear. Not a dog. Not even a coyote, I suspected. What on earth was it?

I levered myself up on my knees and looked out the window flap. Utter darkness, naturally.

Was I going to go outside and investigate? Not on your life.

I consoled myself with the fact that whatever it was didn’t sound large enough to kill me. I lay back down and listened to the critter’s claws scrabbling against the side of the oTENTik, as it circled the tent twice, emitting that unearthly squeal at random intervals. Eventually, it decided that neither I nor anything near my tent was appetizing, and tottered off into the night.

Eventually, I slept.

oTENTiks: Camping for non-campers

As you’ve probably surmised by now, I’m no Bear Grylls. Sure, I’ve been camping before, but usually with seasoned outdoorsy people. I’ve pitched a tent (badly). I’ve strung food in a tree. I’ve used some rustic outhouses. But I wouldn’t exactly call myself a “camper.” I’m camper-esque, I suppose.

And that is why the Parks Canada oTENTik I recently stayed in at the Upper Beveridges Locks near Smiths Falls was exactly the sort of camping for me. It’s what some marketers call “glamping” (glamorous camping), and it suited me to a T. As I’ve described, it gave me a taste of nature—trees, stars, unidentified wildlife—without all the pesky tent poles. I simply drove my city-girl sedan up to the oTENTik, unloaded my sleeping bag and other gear, walked past the picnic shelter with its big tables and propane barbecues, flipped open a lockbox, dialled in a code to retrieve a key, and opened the screen door to my “tent.”

I put tent in quotation marks because, while the oTENTik does have canvas walls and a distinct lack of indoor plumbing, you won’t exactly be roughing it if you stay in one.

Bunk beds and bathrooms

The first thing that struck me about my home-away-from-home was the floor: gleaming laminate that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a posh condo. I was expecting something along the lines of varnished plywood. When I noticed the broom and dustpan beside the door, I quickly kicked off my sandals.

The tent—high enough that even the tallest camper could stand up with ease—also sheltered a small bench, a wooden table and four chairs, a fire extinguisher, and the aforementioned lantern. Along the back wall was an ingenious structure that provided sleeping space for six people—four mattresses on the bottom level, separated by vinyl flaps for privacy if you so chose, and a small double above, accessible via a wooden ladder. So, technically, there was space for six campers.

With it all to myself, I could have held a dance in there. I even had enough space to unroll a yoga mat. With six adults and all their gear, it would be cozy, to say the least. However, for a young family with a couple of small kids, it would be fine.

But I hear your question: “Where would I take these hypothetical tots when they had to use the bathroom?”

Worry not, my city friend. Remember, this was glamping. A two-minute walk from the tent down a gravel road brought me to a white-sided building housing clean, modern bathrooms (with flush toilets!) and men’s and women’s showers (with hot water!). There was even a fold-down change table and an accessible shower with a fold-down seat. And, speaking of accessibility, one of the four oTENTiks at the Upper Beveridges site has a wheelchair ramp.

A laid-back restaurant and a beer on the porch

All in all, my fancy tent was pretty comfortable. Since I was travelling alone and only staying one night (yeah, travel writers do odd things), I’d decided against bringing food and cooking equipment. Instead, after unpacking my gear and locking the tent, I drove five minutes to the nearby hamlet of Rideau Ferry, where I’d heard good things about CC’s on the Rideau, a restaurant with a huge patio overlooking the Rideau River.

When I arrived about 6:30pm on a lovely Wednesday evening, the bartender asked me whether I had a reservation. I blinked and said no—it had never even occurred to me that the place would be that busy. Dumb move—the joint was hopping. 

Luckily, I snagged one of the last unbooked tables at the back of the patio. Service was very friendly if a bit harried; this wouldn’t be somewhere I’d go if I was in a rush. Then again, who’s in a rush in cottage country, when there’s a pretty river to look at?

My smoked salmon ciabatta sandwich with hand-cut fries hit the spot. The menu offers lots of choices, including sandwiches, burgers, pasta, steak, fish and chips, and vegetarian and gluten-free options.

After dinner, I strolled along the Rideau Ferry public dock for a bit. Another time, I’ll come back with a picnic and a book. Built in 2014, it would be a lovely place to relax for an hour or two, amid planters of bright flowers. If you enjoy local history as much as I do, don’t miss the plaques filled with stories of the community’s past, such as the history of the summer regatta. That event was first held in 1897, when spectators arrived by steamboat and horse-drawn carriage.

Before leaving, I picked up a beer and some chips at the Rideau Ferry Store, a one-stop shop where you can rent DVDs, gas up your car, and buy a bottle of wine or basic groceries. I got back to my oTENTik about half an hour before sunset.

A Muskoka chair, a book and a cold Stella made watching the sun go down behind the trees very relaxing. I stayed on my little porch long after dark, coated in bug spray and reading by lantern light. Then, after a quick trip to the comfort station, I came back to the oTENTik to admire the stars—until the aforementioned crash spurred me to go to bed.

Window flaps and foam mattresses

Before turning out the light, I moved around the tent securing the supplied covers to the screen door and windows to keep out the morning sun. I was a bit worried that the two triangular openings at the top of the oTENTik, each covered in clear plastic, would let in so much light that I’d be up at dawn, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that. I put on my eye mask, crawled into bed and—eventually—fell into a pretty deep sleep.

A word of warning: If you like a very firm mattress, an oTENTik might not be your cup of tea. The vinyl-covered mattresses are similar to old-style chaise-lounge pads: about 8 centimetres (3 inches) thick and filled with a solid piece of soft foam. I’ll admit that I woke up with a bit of a wonky back, but it would have been much wonkier if I’d been sleeping on the ground.

One wonky back and one free kayak

There’s nothing like a bit of morning yoga for a creaky back. As I mentioned, there was room inside the oTENTik to unroll a yoga mat, but I opted instead to set up on the small porch, so I could listen to the birds and feel the sun on my face. A few downward dogs and I was feeling more than ready to tackle that morning’s adventure: a one-hour paddle along the Tay Canal.

I was surprised to learn when I arrived at the oTENTik that campers get free use of one of the site’s four kayaks, on a first-come, first-served basis. Parks Canada even supplies the life jackets and paddles. That’s another nice perk for people like me who enjoy paddling but don’t own a kayak.

From the oTENTik site’s small dock, I levered myself into the kayak and set off down the quiet canal. In the distance, where the canal met the Tay River, I was convinced I could see an egret standing regally at the edge of the water. After paddling lazily past dragonflies and water lilies, and pausing every so often to enjoy the infinite expanse of cloudless blue sky, I finally got close enough to see that the blob of white was just a pair of navigational signs.

Yeah, I’m no Bear Grylls.

So where the heck are the Upper Beveridges Locks?

The Upper Beveridges and Lower Beveridges Locks are just west of Smiths Falls, between Port Elmsley and Rideau Ferry. The site is about 90 kilometres from Parliament Hill, or a little over an hour’s drive in good traffic. And, even though these two adjacent locks are officially part of the Rideau Canal system, they’re not technically on the Rideau Canal. They’re on the Tay River, which is a tributary to the Rideau River. The Tay Canal was built as a shipping route to connect Perth to the Rideau Canal in the 19th century, and that project is a fascinating story of political intrigue.

Suffice it to say that, today, the lockstation is a quiet, peaceful place to escape the city without going far. You’ll think you’re miles from civilization, when you’re really less than a 15-minute drive from either Perth or Smiths Falls.

The site’s four oTENTiks are near the upper locks. Tents B1 and B2 are closer to the showers/toilets building and have a clearer view of the canal, but they’re more open to the sun. Tents B3 (where I stayed) and B4 are surrounded by trees, and since they share a picnic shelter, they’d be a great choice for two families or a larger group of friends travelling together.

Things to see and do near the Upper Beveridges Locks

If you decide you want to explore the region beyond your posh tent, I have a few recommendations.

Kids and trainspotters will get a kick out of the Railway Museum of Eastern Ontario in Smiths Falls.

History and transportation buffs will also enjoy the Rideau Canal Visitor Centre, which tells the story of the construction of the 19th-century canal, a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

If you drive in the other direction, the pretty town of Perth is home to a chocolate maker, as well as bakeries, theatres, restaurants, shops and festivals.

Other places I’ve heard good things about (but haven’t had the chance to visit yet) include Murphys Point Provincial Park and the Perth Wildlife Reserve Conservation Area. Upper Beveridges Locks are also very close to the Rideau Trail, a hiking route connecting Ottawa to Kingston.

So what was that noise?

Oh, right—that chattering night stalker! When I came home, I did my best imitation of the critter’s cry, and my husband and I Googled it. The Internet can be a marvellous thing. Within seconds, my sheepish suspicions were confirmed. That dangerous wild animal that I feared would murder me in my sleep was…a raccoon.

If you go

The fee for an oTENTik is $100 a night. They’re available from mid-May to mid-October.

The Parks Canada website (see below) has a detailed list of what you should bring with you. Essentials include sheets, pillows, blankets or sleeping bags, bug spray, sunscreen, food, a water container and cooking gear.

The Upper Beveridges Locks are about 90 kilometres southwest of Parliament Hill, between the villages of Port Elmsley and Rideau Ferry. The entrance is off Port Elmsley Road and it’s easy to miss. If you’re driving from Smiths Falls, start watching for the signs after you pass the Port Elmsley Drive-in Theatre. If you get to Rideau Ferry Road, you’ve gone too far.

Once you enter the locks site, the signs may be a bit confusing. The oTENTiks are to your right, but if you need information, firewood or anything else, turn left to go to the Lower Beveridges lockstation office.

For more details, see the Parks Canada Rideau Canal oTENTiks site.

Disclosure: During this trip, I was a guest of Parks Canada, which neither reviewed nor approved this post.

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