The wilderness interior of Killarney Provincial Park has a very complex geology where granite ridges collide with dramatic white quartzite mountains. The south edge of the park where it is bounded by Georgian Bay is home to another intersection of rock types. Here the pink granite meets the even redder gneiss that originally helped form the LaCloche Mountains.
This area is as distinctive, unique, and beautiful as the park interior. The Chikanshing Trail is short and rugged but very scenic. It follows the creek of the same name out to Georgian Bay and then loops back further inland. The path along the water is by far the most scenic. The creek is the put in point for kayakers and canoeists wanting to circumnavigate Phillip Edward Island. We met a group of anglers returning from a multi day kayak trip when we hiked the trail.
The trail is well marked, though most of the blazes are painted on the rocks so winter travel might be difficult. In some places the blazes can be hard to spot but the trail is still easy to follow. There are also informational plaques that detail the natural, geologic and historic significance of several sights on the trail. The plaques are relatively unobtrusive but they do stand out as unnatural.
The trail isn’t long at all, nor is it particularly difficult, but there is some scrambling required in places. The rocks are twisted into complex shapes that are a strong contrast with the smooth quartzite in the park interior. Windswept trees cling to the convoluted rocks of the trail, and the view of the small islands in the bay formed by the convoluted shoreline is spectacular.
The only downside is the crowds that are attracted by the easy hike and spectacular views. Even in mid September we saw many people on the trail and the water. I can only imagine that it would be worse in the high season.
Tips
The terrain is moderately difficult with lots of ups and down. It’s more interesting than just a straightforward walk.
The scenery is a high point. This is a very beautiful hike.
Due to the ease of access and the proximity to the road this is a very popular hike and there can be a lot of people on the trail.
I’ve wanted to make a trip up Silver Peak for over seven years, but I just never seemed to be able organize it. Part of the problem is that Silver Peak is most easily accessed from the lowlands beyond the northern LaCloche range, and when planning an overnight canoe trip I favour the more rugged landscape in the heart of the LaCloche Hills. It is possible to access Silver Peak as a day trip, but even when camped nearby at George Lake it is best to get up fairly early and I’m not much of a morning person.
I finally decided to try to squeeze an ascent into a very brief weekend camping trip that wouldn’t consume any vacation days but that would also put me close enough to allow for a more relaxed morning. I was a bit slow to organize such an adventure however, so fortunately some of my co-workers ran with the idea when they heard me talking about it. Not only did they get a bunch of people organized and book the campsite, they did take the day off so that they could arrive early and pick up the permit. The rest of us didn’t get to the end of the access road until after midnight.
After unloading the canoes and gear we had a very short paddle in the dark to our campsite. The thick clouds blocked the moon, but it was still light enough to make out the tendrils of mist that clung to the hills of Bell Lake which had an eerie stillness following the rain. It was a surprisingly hot and muggy night which offset the chill that often comes with a heavy downpour. We took advantage of the warmth to shake off the long drive while talking around the campfire late into the night.
While the weather wasn’t great, we really did luck out. There was some torrential rain while we drove up highway 400, but it stopped not long before we arrived at the access point. In fact we managed to avoid the rain all weekend. When we returned to our site on Saturday after visiting the peak our tents and tarp were soaked from what had been a significant downpour even though we’d only encountered a light mist on our way down the mountain.
One of the reasons I’ve been reluctant to plan a backcountry trip in the area is that motorboats are allowed on both Bell and David lakes. David Lake isn’t really an interior lake since it is the access point, but when sleeping in a tent it is nice to feel like you’re alone in the wilderness. Unfortunately we were woken in the morning by two groups of fisherman in aluminum boats who anchored right next to our site.
Silver Peak Hike
Silver Peak, visible from Bell Lake.
We paddled across Bell Lake and left our canoes at the take out for the Silver Peak trail. There are many ways to climb Silver Peak without bushwhacking even though there’s only one official trail to the top. I’d decided to take a slightly longer walk rather than portaging the canoes to David Lake. The trail from Bell Lake to the base of the mountain is an old logging road and makes for very easy walking.
Once we got to the trail for the peak itself things became more difficult. The trail has several steep sections, and several that are quite rocky requiring careful foot placement. In spring it must get pretty wet, but right now the creeks that cross the trail aren’t running very strong. The trail only offers tantalizing glimpses of the view until very close to the top. At one point while only a few hundred meters from the peak I checked our elevation and was surprised to realize that we’d only gone about half of the vertical distance even though we were almost three quarters of the horizontal!
This small stream crosses the trail a few times on the way to the peak.
Where the trail crosses the creek there's some tricky terrain if you want to keep your feet dry.
This little waterfall didn't have much water at this time of year but it was still a pretty diversion along the trail.
The sun did make a brief appearance just as we neared the peak, but there was a thick blanket of grey clouds covering the sky. Even with the cloud cover the view was spectacular. The sun managed to angle under the clouds and shine off the distant waters of Georgian Bay which provided a spectacular backdrop for the Southern LaCloche hills. This interesting play of the light seemed like a fortunate occurrence just when we arrived but I suspect that there’s always something interesting to see from this vantage point. Below us I could see many of the places I’ve visited in Killarney over the years, and far to the north the Superstack in Copper Cliff marked Sudbury where I grew up. Peeking around the second peek I could see the northern LaCloche hills around Grace and Nellie Lakes that I climbed in August.
Looking north from the first lookout.
The only remains of the fire tower that once stood on Silver Peak are four concrete piers.
It turns out that the highest point of elevation is the further peak.
Killarney Lake and George Lake are visible between the hills.
Looking north from the first lookout.
The only remains of the fire tower that once stood on Silver Peak are four concrete piers.
It turns out that the highest point of elevation is the further peak.
After taking some pictures for a while we returned down the hill and followed the trail back to our canoes. Despite a late start we managed to get back to our campsite in good time and had a bit of light left to prepare dinner. The clouds finally parted after the sun set and we were able to see a spectacular view of the nearly full moon over Bell Lake.
It got cold overnight, and remained so the next morning, but that didn’t prevent Fraser from entertaining us all by jumping in the lake for a frigid swim while we ate breakfast. Without having to hurry we were able to break camp and make it back to the cars by early afternoon to make the drive home.
One of the three people in this canoe isn't pulling her weight.
Cooking banana boats in the campfire after dark.
Mike isn't a bear, but when the stone for the bear bag got caught in the tree he climbed up to liberate the rope.
As cold as it was at night, it was almost colder the next morning, but that didn't stop Fraser from going in for a quick swim.
It was cold at night, and the fire was used for more than just a conversation piece and cooking.
The cloud cover broke on our second night giving us a view of the nearly full moon.
O.S.A. Lake is the birthplace of Killarney Provincial park, and arguably one of the nicest lakes in the park. It’s also a very short trip from the George Lake campground and thus is one of the most popular destinations. Because of the incredible scenery and easy access it makes an excellent destination for a novice weekend trip. It’s not a particularly large lake, but because there are only five campsites it never feels crowded. This all comes with a price, however. Since it’s so popular you’ll have to book far in advance in order to secure a place on this lovely little lake.
I’ve visited O.S.A. Lake on several of my longer canoe trips, but I wanted to share its charm with my wife, so we planned an early fall canoe trip. We camped in the car campground before and after the canoe trip, so our planning involved a pile of different permits. We spent a week in the area, but this was by far the highlight of the trip.
Day 1: George Lake — O.S.A. Lake
We had to move our car from our campsite at George Lake campground to the overnight parking, but first we dropped our gear off at the top of the stairs that lead down to the beach. In the summer this area can become pretty crowded so you have to be organized and drop your gear quickly, but it wasn’t any trouble at all for us this late in the season.
The beach at George Lake is situated in a small bay on the southern part of the lake. This side of the lake is formed from pink granite, but the narrows that leads to the rest of the lake frames a view of the white quartzite hills that form the north shore of the lake. Once you paddle through this gap you can see the entirety of the lake, with white quartzite hills on the north shore and pink granite on the south. It’s not a large lake, but it’s very pretty. Paddling can be a bit of a chore if the wind is up, but we had perfect conditions.
At the far end of the lake is the portage to Freeland Lake. The portage is very short, but also very pretty. It skirts around a dam that holds back the waters of Freeland Lake. Originally a beaver dam it has been made more permanent. The park staff have erected a wooden dock at the portage to make the take out easier. I’m not sure how necessary the dock is, but it does make finding the portage easier. After carrying your canoe 45 meters up a small hill you place it off to one side while you return to get your packs. This portage can get very busy in the summer so it’s important to keep your gear together so you don’t lose anything and ensure that it’s out of everyone else’s way.
It’s easier to carry the pack and canoe together when the portage is only 45 meters long.
Freeland is one of the liveliest lakes in Killarney.
The only other people on the portage on our trip were a young couple that had set out from George Lake at the same time that we did. They were furiously unpacking their gear because their can of bear spray had gone off inside of their pack. I’ve never bothered with bear spray, so I’m not really sure what kind of mess it makes, but I gather it isn’t pleasant.
Two trees frame the view of Freeland Lake at the far end of the portage, making a perfect picture of this pretty, marshy little lake. Most of the lakes in Killarney are dead with pristine clear water but Freeland is shallow, boggy and choked with life. It feels much more like Algonquin than Killarney. You’ll have to stick to the centre as you paddle down the lake to avoid thick lily pads and bog mats.
The take out for the portage to Killarney Lake is on the north east shore of Freeland. There’s no dock here but it’s well signed and there’s a bit of a sandy beach. The portage is a bit longer and travels through some thicker trees, but it’s still very easy. The whole trip is over smooth rock and well worn firm ground. If it’s early in the season you can explore the rocky swifts to the east of the portage. This creek usually dries up later in the season. It’s nothing spectacular but it is some interesting rocky terrain.
The Killarney end of the portage lies on a rock shelf at the end of small channel. The water is littered with logs, and barren white standing dead trees line the shore. Just visible past the first narrows are the white hills that surround Killarney Lake. This end of the lake is spidery and winds back and forth, each new bend revealing an even more dramatic view of the hills that soon loom over you. It’s a spectacular introduction to the lake, but it can be a bit challenging to navigate. There are plenty of places for a directionally challenged traveller to make a wrong turn and get lost in here, so make sure that you consult your map to prevent having to backtrack.
The goal is to follow the bays and channels into the south end of the lake proper, and then paddle west at the foot of the white hills. When the lake starts to turn to the south you’ve reached the portage to O.S.A. Lake. This corner of Killarney Lake is home to many dead stumps, but it’s still easy to travel. Finding the portage can be a bit tricky as the sign is far back on shore where the tree line begins. There are actually two portages between the lakes. The second one is much shorter, but I’ve never had the good fortune to use it. The water level has to be high enough to paddle the far end of the lake. The first portage is so flat and easy that I usually don’t bother trying to get to the second one any more.
Our campsite is at the far end of the lake.
I’ve never claimed to be a strong paddler. Here Sherri caught me just after I pinched my hand between the paddle and the gunnel.
Here I am, pretending I know what I’m doing.
The far end is a rocky beach where the waves have ground the stone into gravel. The one challenge on O.S.A. Lake is that the winds can be funnelled down the length of the lake making paddling difficult as you search for a campsite. The sites at the north west end of the lake offer the best views. Our only challenge with the crowding on O.S.A Lake was finding a campsite. I was hoping to get one of the island campsites, but they were already taken.
We chose the site at the base of a tall cliff at the north west end of the lake. As we reached the shore we spotted another canoe heading in the same direction. They continued on for a few minutes, but when it became clear that we were moving in they turned away. We’d beat them to the site by only fifteen minutes! The campsite is a bit secluded in the trees, but if you venture out to the rocky beach it has a spectacular view of the hills to the south. Even if it wasn’t the site that we wanted we felt pretty lucky to have nabbed such a nice spot.
Day 2: O.S.A. Lake Ridge Running
Dakota looking handsome with a cliff in the background as we make breakfast.
The colour of the water in O.S.A. Lake never ceasses to startle me.
The white quartzite hills of Killarney are rather sparsely treed. Not only has the area has been logged in the past, larger trees have a hard time growing in the thin soil on top of the quartzite. This means that the woods aren’t particularly thick and it’s very easy to bushwhack along the white ridges where clear views of the lakes are plentiful. My first experience with Killarney ridge running was when I found the geocache perched high up above the north shore of O.S.A. Lake. I persuaded Sherri to return to this spectacular spot with me.
One of the fun parts about Killarney ridge running is the navigation. The geocache is situated at the top of a tall shear cliff, but by examining the map an obvious path up to the cache can be found in the form of a swale cut by a stream as it tumbles down the hill. It’s a relatively easy hike, but once you get clear of the trees it offers spectacular views of the lake below, and the tall hill behind as well.
Almost the entire ridge is like this.
Most of this trip really is an easy climb.
It was pretty windy up there that night.
Try as she might, she couldn’t get closer to the edge.
Sherri tries to overcome her fear of heights to reproduce the pose from the Ontario Parks photo.
The cache is hidden near the site of a photo that was used in park literature, and is still posted on a sign on the beach at George Lake. The cache owner playfully requests that finders try to recreate the photo. I had done so the last time I found the cache with Xander, but it was a bit more difficult with Sherri. We had great weather for the three days of our trip, but it was a bit windy at the top, and my wife is leery of, if not afraid of, heights. I did manage to persuade her to crawl out to the edge to pose for the famous picture, even if the sun wouldn’t come out.
After finding the cache we returned to our canoe at the base of the cliff and paddled back to our campsite. We enjoyed another spectacular sunset. One of the reasons that O.S.A. is such a pretty lake, is that it’s orientation is aligned with the track of the sun in the summer, so the sun is visible until moments before it sets at certain times of the year.
I’ve photographed this island before, but it always stands out so nicely :-).
Day 3: O.S.A. Lake — George Lake
We were emjoying such nice weather that it was hard to leave, but not only did we not have a reservation, we had some appointments booked and had to get back. On the way out we visited an old trapper’s cabin on one of the islands. The cabin collapsed long ago, but the ruins still make for an interesting place to explore. After visiting the cabin we retraced our route to return to our car.
Yet again, Dakota is in the canoe before the canoe is in the water.
Moss with the old cabin in the background.
Tips
Difficulty
All of the portages are flat, relatively level and mercifully short.
The trip can be easily completed in two days, or even done as a day trip with an early start. But if you have time it’s worth it to book an extra day or two to enjoy the area.
Paddling on O.S.A., Killarney and George Lakes can be difficult if the wind picks up. All three lakes funnel the wind. Normally it’s pretty easy going, but if the wind picks up you will need to work to stay on course.
The hardest thing about this trip may be booking it. You can book trips in Killarney starting five months to the day before the start of your trip. If you want to get a site on O.S.A. Lake you’ll almost certainly have to book as early as possible.
If you can’t book a site on O.S.A. Lake you can try to shorten the trip and stop on Killarney Lake.
Comfort
Apparently Killarney can get pretty buggy in the spring, but I’ve still never experienced it. In late summer or fall there are almost never any bugs. The only significant wetland on this route is through Freeland Lake, so there are very few areas for bugs to breed.
Remoteness
This is a very easy trip with incredible rewards. As such it’s very popular. Not only is it hard to book the trip you may have to race to get a campsite on O.S.A. Lake.
O.S.A. Lake is also a major corridor for several of the longer trips in the park. It is quite likely that you will see several flotillas of canoes passing through each day.
Once you actually have a site they’re well spaced so there’s a lot of privacy . There are only five campsites on the whole lake. I’ve often been able to hear some of my neighbours here, but I’ve rarely seen them (I believe that two of the sites are quire close to one another, but I’ve stayed at one of them and never saw my neighbours).
This was a canoe trip my wife the dog and I took to find Fishog’s Fierce Find. It was a beautiful day for a paddle, and despite a breeze that made for some rough water on Head Lake we made good time. Things got a lot easier at the river until the portage.
We were about to carry up the first hill when some kayakers offered to help us. My wife carried the gear while one of the friendly strangers and I hauled the boat over the hills and rocks. On the way back we had no help so I carried the canoe while my wife carried our gear and the dog ran around doing nothing.
There was also some wind on Fishog lake, but it just made for a slight current. The winds and the steep portage make this a rewarding trip, but it’s not too hard. There are enough cottages and motorboats in the area that it doesn’t really feel remote, but once you get to Fishog lake you do experience the calm of nature.
It was our dogs first canoe trip, and it took him a while to learn to sit still in the boat. Eventually he got with the program, and I think he’s a big fan of canoeing now. He took a nap while we paddled on the way back.
I’ve heard it said that Algonquin Park has a subtle beauty. I’m more accustomed to the dramatic shores of Georgian Bay, so for my first visit to Algonquin I opted to visit the Barron Canyon. The Barron Canyon was formed at the end of the last ice age as glacial Lake Aggasiz drained through the Barron River. During a period of just a few hundred years a volume of water reportedly greater than 1,000 Niagra Falls roared down the river and enlarged an ancient fault into the 100m deep canyon we see today.
I decided to follow the loop described by Kevin Callan in “A Paddler’s Guide To Ontario”. Kevin’s enthusiastic description described a spectacular place to visit, and his trip advice made it seem like an easy trip to take with the family, especially since we’d have some novice paddler’s with us.
After some feedback based on last years trip I was planning to make camp once and visit the canyon as a day trip rather than breaking camp each night. I was a bit late in booking the trip (only three months in advance) which meant I didn’t get the site that I wanted on Opalescent Lake, and we were only able to get two nights on High Falls Lake. While the trip is possible in three days I had hoped to stretch it out to give us some time to relax.
Saturday
It was a long hot drive to the park on Saturday. We were drenched in sweat by the time we picked up our second canoe from the outfitters, and we didn’t enter the park until after the Sand Lake Gate had closed. Fortunately we were able to purchase a permit at the Achray campground the next morning without having to drive all the way back out of the park.
We spent Saturday night in a jump off site at Achray. I’d heard that the jump off sites were pretty dismal, so I was pleasantly surprised by what we found. While not nearly as nice as a backcountry site it was more than adequate for our purposes. When I stepped out of the car I was startled to notice that a deer was watching me from just a few meters away. She bolted back into the trees the moment I spoke.
Sunday
As predicted the weather on Sunday was less than ideal for starting a canoe trip. The sky was grey, and there was a very strong wind on Grand Lake. Despite having camped nearby we were off to a late start, and fighting the wind turned the 1.7 Km paddle across Grand Lake into an hour long ordeal. On the way back in much calmer conditions it only took us 25 minutes.
We meandered back and forth in the lead canoe as we debated how to best handle the strong winds. After a brief management crisis (one canoe, two captains) we turned broadside to attack the winds closer to shore. Once done there was no turning back — the wind was so strong we couldn’t push the bow back into the wind until we had reached the beach on the far side of the bay.
The wind died immediately once we turned the corner and entered the channel to Stratton Lake, but a light rain started as we unloaded for the short portage around the dam. Algonquin had just suffered three weeks of drought, and water levels were low, so we had to navigate the channel from the dam to Stratton Lake carefully to avoid rocks.
Putting The Canoe In
The Channel From Grand To Stratton
Hopping from rock to rock while lifting the canoe over the obstructions at the Stratton to St Andrews portage.
Dakota is a bit obsessive about getting in the canoe when he sees us start to pack up after a portage, even if it's not even the right canoe or if it's still on shore
Stratton is a long narrow lake known for high winds, but fortunately for us it was relatively calm, and by the time we reached the other side the rain had stopped. We had some difficulty locating the portage from Stratton to St Andrews Lake because it is accessed from a short marsh and the sign isn’t visible from the main body of water. By trusting the map and the GPS we zeroed in on the right spot.
The stream through the marsh was easy to navigate, but a line of rocks and submerged logs near the portage blocked our passage and we had to get out of our canoes to lift them over the obstacles. Some careful footwork was required to avoid falling into the muck that lines the shore.
St Andrews is a small, but very pretty lake, flanked by tall cliffs. The portage to St Andrews Lake is very short, but by the time we’d crossed and stopped for a snack the sun was out and we saw some people enjoying the change in the weather, fishing and paddling about.
Kevin Callan recommends making a base camp on St Andrews Lake and then doing the trip to the canyon as a day trip. While the portage from St Andrews to High Falls isn’t long by Algonquin standards, avoiding having to carry all of our gear one more lake was certainly appealing. Still I wanted to reduce the distance to travel the second day so we had booked a site on High Falls Lake.
It was getting late in the day, and we did most of the portage as a single carry. The 550m trail is mostly flat, but near the end it gets steep and rocky, and then the last few meters drop almost vertically down to the water. I put down the canoe where the trail got nasty and carried the pack separately for the last 100m.
There are only two active sites on High Falls Lake, and one was already taken, so it didn’t take us long at all to decided where to settle in. The site that was left is quite large and open, and afforded us an excellent view of the small chain of islands in the middle of the lake. The only downside to the site was the lack of good swimming opportunities.
Monday
None of us are morning people, and so despite planning a quick breakfast of oatmeal we were slow to get moving for our day trip to the canyon on Monday — we didn’t hit the water until almost noon. It was a beautiful sunny day, which I had hoped would highlight the scenery at our destination.
We decided to do the full loop as recommended by the guidebook since it seemed like it might be easier to follow the west trail out of High Falls Lake and the east trail back in. Perhaps it was, but combined with our late start it proved the undoing of our trip for the day.
None of the several short portages on the west trail was particularly difficult, but the low water levels slowed us down at each put-in/take-out point, and we made rather slow progress. It didn’t help that the printed topo map, the GPS topo map and The Official Canoe Routes Map of Algonquin Park couldn’t seem to agree on the location or even number of the portages we would encounter.
We did make it to the north end of the section of the Barron River referred to as “The Cascades” on the maps, but we had a silly error in communication on the Brigham Lake portage. I arrived at the end of the portage first, and after catching my breath realized that the other canoe hadn’t shown up yet. There was a fork in the trail at the halfway point, with two signs. One path led along the canyon floor, while the other headed up the hill to the parking lot. I had stopped with the canoe on my head to read them both carefully before proceeding, and they were a bit confusing so I was worried that perhaps Alex had taken the other canoe up the hill.
I ran back and there was nobody near the fork, but when I called out there was an answering yell from up above. Alex was about half way up the steep hill to the parking lot. At his mother’s urging he had taken the wrong trail and gone up the hill.
After the confusion at the portage we were able to enjoy a nice paddle downriver flanked by the foothills of the Barron Canyon. There was a small lift over at the end of Brigham Lake, and then a short 100m portage before the last carry that would take us to the canyon proper. But as we stood at the head of the last 440m portage I realized that it had taken us far longer to get there than anticipated. It was already 4:30 and it had taken us almost five hours to get that far. If we didn’t head back very soon we wouldn’t be able to make our campsite before dusk, and none of the portages were the kind of trip that were advisable in the dark.
Algae Blooms At The Cascades
Portaging From Brigham To Opalescent
The Barron Canyon Begins
Paddling The Foothills Of The Canyon
At least this time Dakota's in the right canoe, even if it still is on shore.
I was torn, since the canyon had been the destination for the whole trip, and here I was contemplating turning back while less than a half kilometre away. We held a vote, and while nobody was very enthusiastic we decided to turn back to Brigham Lake and take the eastern chain of shorter portages back to our campsite. It took us almost three hours to complete the trip, and we arrived at camp at 7:30 with just an hour of daylight left to make dinner and complete our chores.
The portage from Brigham to Opalescent Lake was the longest of the trip at 750m, but wasn’t as hard as I feared. It starts with a slow but steady rise, but after a quick drop it was pretty easy going. Opalescent Lake is quite pretty and we saw a beaver as we pumped water to sustain us for the last leg. The 640m portage from Opalescent to Ooze was a bit tougher. While there isn’t a lot of elevation change it’s littered with large rocks that make walking difficult, particularly with a canoe on your shoulders.
Ooze Lake lived up to it’s name, and two of us got slimy soakers when our feet sank deep into the black muck as we tried to manoeuvre our canoes away from shore.
The last portage of the day was anticlimactic, even though the trail kept skirting the edge of the lake tantalizingly without seeming to get to the water. We finally found ourselves at the same trailhead we had started from that morning, and after a short paddle were back at our campsite. We eased the pain (and the sorrow) of the day with copious amounts of rum.
Tuesday
The last day of our trip saw us up late, as usual. The sky was grey and it kept raining on and off. We huddled under our tarp while we prepared a pancake breakfast before breaking camp and heading out. The rain stopped before we broke camp, and the sun even peeked out briefly. We saw several groups of paddlers pass through our little lake on their way to their destinations while we ate.
Before leaving we took the opportunity to explore. High Falls Lake is named for High Falls, a popular swimming spot with a natural water slide. I had assumed that High Falls was the small chute next to the portage into the lake that we could hear running all night. Like all of the other water courses we encountered it was significantly diminished, but there was no sign of a water slide. It turns out that there are two channels that feed High Falls Lake, and the eponymous falls are located on the one that we didn’t explore.
It was surprisingly late when we finished taking pictures of the falls, and when we returned to our canoe there were very dark thunderheads to the north. Despite the fact that we had to hurry to avoid the weather we did the portage as a double carry this time, partly because we were exhausted, and partly because one of our packs had a broken strap.
Dark Clouds Rolling In
Xander Portaging From High Falls To St Andrews
St Andrews After The Rain
Sherri saw this shot and asked me to take it. She composed it, I just held the camera.
Buzzed By A Bushplane
We had just arrived at St Andrews Lake when the skies opened up and it began to rain quite heavily. After a few minutes of standing under a tree we decided to set up the tarp which seemed quite effective at promptly putting an end to the rain.
The cool air had left the warm lake steaming, and we had a lovely paddle across St Andrews Lake in the mist. We were quite surprised when a bush plane, complete with canoe strapped to a float, took off from nearby Stratton Lake and flew almost directly overhead as we neared the portage.
When we reached the end of the portage the sky had turned grey again and we could hear some ominous rumblings from the clouds. The rain started again and so once more we set up the tarp. We started counting the time between rumbles hoping that it would soon be safe enough to go on the water. We held another vote on whether or not we should proceed, and this time I insisted that we have a consensus before we left.
After over an hour of waiting we decided to chance it. We downed the last of the rum straight up for courage and loaded the canoes again. No sooner had we put the canoes in the water, and cleared the rocks and logs that obstructed the channel, than we saw a huge fork of lightning light up the whole sky in front of us.
We decided to press on to the end of the marsh and take shelter at the campsite at the southeast end of the lake near the mouth of the channel, hoping that it was unoccupied. We saw several more lightning bolts before we covered the short distance to the lake, and the bush plane buzzed us once more.
When we reached the wide open expanse of Stratton Lake we could see the dark clouds coming our way. The campsite was occupied, and we asked the couple who were camped there if they knew of a place we could weather out the storm, hoping that they’d get the hint. At first they played dumb and tried to convince us that we’d be fine, but when another huge fork of lightning lit up the sky behind where we were floating just off their beach they invited us ashore and offered to let us stay the night and have some of their food if necessary.
We just pulled the canoes on shore at first, but we could soon see sheets of rain obscuring the far end of the lake. We quickly pulled our gear under their tarp and flipped the canoes over just minutes before a deluge of biblical proportions swept over the beach.
The Storm Rolls Back In
With better timing I could have added a bolt of lightning to the background of this shot — they were lighting up the sky to the north.
The Storm Behind Xander And Steph
Heavy Rain Sweeps Across Stratton Lake
Looking Northwest On Stratton
The storm passes over us
Once the storm rolled over we had a lovely sunset.
It took about twenty minutes for the rain to run out, but when it did the clouds parted and we saw a beautiful sunset through the gap. We decided to continue back to the campground rather than camp out for another night on Stratton Lake even though it was 9PM. The last portage would be easy to cross in the dark and as long as the weather held we would be fine.
The dusk continued to fade as we paddled across the long lake until it was completely dark save for the light of the stars above. There were clouds on the horizon, but the sky overhead was completely clear. The lake was utterly calm, and paddling the canoe across the still water was like gliding across a black mirror. Occasionally we spotted flashlights from the campsites on shore, and at one point we were surrounded by a family of loons calling to each other. A beaver swam with us for a while. We could barely see him, but every few minutes we’d hear him slap his tail loudly on the water as he dove. We saw several shooting stars, including one that was large enough that we could see the ragged shape of the fireball and the edges of the yellow flame were tinged with red.
It was so black that we had to rely on the GPSr to navigate. At one point we realized that we were following the wrong shore of the lake and had to switch sides. We could spot rocks and logs jutting above the surface, but Stratton is littered with rocks and deadheads just below the waterline, and we grounded out on a few of those. When we got to the rocky channel to Grand Lake we pulled out the flashlights to scan the bottom and used the GPSr to retrace our path from the previous day.
The portage around the dam was accomplished quite easily with flashlights, and then we turned them all off for a few minutes to look at the stars and the milky way. We navigated the last channel in the dark with only a few errors, and then we could see the distant lights of Achray to guide us back. There were some ominous flashes on the horizon from distant lightning, but the sky overhead was clear and the flashes we saw were so far away that we couldn’t even hear the thunder so we pressed on.
Conclusion
Once we reached the beach we had to pack the car, change our wet clothes, and tie both canoes on the roof. It was after 1AM when we made it to the outfitters where we returned the canoe by lowering it over the fence with a rope. It was so late that we couldn’t find a gas station, and eventually had to park at a closed station on highway 7 waiting for them to open. It only took half an hour before we could fill the tank and continue on, but by the end of the 8 hour trip we were exhausted.
I had a hard time dealing with our failure to actually see the Barron Canyon. It was after all the destination of the trip, and I was a frankly devastated that we had to turn back. I didn’t want to sour the trip with my disappointment, and I didn’t want to think “It was nice but…” every time I remembered the trip. There was much to appreciate about our experience and I didn’t want to lose sight of that.
We enjoyed each other’s company, we challenged ourselves dealing not only with the portages but with the weather, and we saw some great scenery. The entire area we travelled was shaped by the same colossal forces that formed the Barron Canyon itself, and they show the scars in the form of some very tortured and beautiful terrain.
In the end I realized that being disappointed in not attaining our goal wasn’t incompatible with enjoying everything else the trip had to offer.
Tips
Don’t underestimate the time it takes to complete the Barron Canyon loop. It’s not very far on the map, but lots of small portages can slow you down, particularly when water levels are low. Best to leave early in the day.
Consider a through trip where you take out at the Squirrel Rapids or put in at Brigham Lake if you absolutely want to see the Canyon.
The northern entrances to Algonquin Provincial Park are less accessible than those along the highway 60 corridor. This makes them a much longer drive from the densely populated areas of Southern Ontario, but it also decreases the number of people that are encountered on a trip through this part of the park. I wanted to plan a longer canoe trip than I’ve attempted in the past, and travel further than I had before, so the northern part of the park seemed like an ideal starting point. I decided to tear yet another page out of Kevin Callan’s “A Paddler’s Guide” series of books and attempt the Hogan Lake Loop leaving from the Brent access point. I added a couple of down days to make the trip more enjoyable and give us some time to explore.
Day 1: Arrival
We spent the first night at the Brent campground to have time to settle our canoe rental and get an early start. Brent is an abandoned railway town populated by a small but eclectic group of people left after the rails were pulled up. It is also home to a very active black fly population.
Complaining about the bugs while on a camping trip to Algonquin Park is a bit like visiting the South Pole and complaining about the cold, but I have to say something because I was so shocked by their ferocity. I had been lulled into a false sense of security after the dry summer we had last year, and reports from a co-worker that bug season would be over in the park by July 1st. Of course his report was based on the aberrant weather from last summer as well. This year the bugs were still going strong when we arrived. It was mostly black flies in the town of Brent, and hordes of mosquitoes in the woods. About the fifth or sixth day of our trip it was as if a switch was thrown and the park realized that summer had started. Overnight the berries on the bushes started to turn from green to blue and the bugs eased off considerably.
The most surprising thing about the bugs was how active they were in the daytime. I’m used to having to take cover at night, but usually the sun chases the parasites away. The locals in Brent have achieved a Zen like peace with the bugs, and can placidly ignore them even when in the midst of a swarm. They gave us odd looks as we waved our arms and swatted vainly at the flying pests.
I had been following Kevin Callan’s progress on his twenty day tour of the park using his satellite beacon, and by some strange coincidence Ontario’s most enthusiastic paddling advocate had arrived in Brent hours ahead of us. He was apparently relaxing by the dock at the outfitters, but we didn’t see him. Kevin has been a fixture on many of my canoe trips thanks to his guides, and we’ve thrown many a colourful phrase in his direction in the heat of the moment. It would have been fun to meet him and Andy in Brent, but they were on vacation as well so we didn’t seek them out and disturb their trip.
Obtaining firewood in Brent is a bit tricky, but once we found the ranger he sorted us out with some dry wood and kindling to make a bit of ‘smudge’ as proof against the flies and cook our dinner. Smudge or not we ate inside of our bug shelter and fled into our tents as soon as the sun was down.
Day 2: I Lost My Thrill On Unicorn Hill
We had hoped to get an early start our first day to beat potential winds on Cedar Lake. 11AM is early for us, but not particularly good for beating the weather, so we were lucky that the wind wasn’t up. The first day of the trip from Cedar Lake to Catfish Lake is the hardest, dominated by the 2.3Km portage around the Stacks Rapids. The high point of the portage is labelled “Unicorn Hill” on our map, and marks the peak of the climb along the banks of the Petawawa River as it drops into Cedar Lake.
When we got to the first portage I tried to pick up the canoe while wearing my pack just to see if I could handle both. While I had no intention of doing single carries for all portages, I had a heavier pack than I’ve ever carried, and was wondering if I could even lift both. The canoe went flying when I tried to pick it up as if it had hit a barrier. I tried again, and it bounced off again. I finally realized that my canoe pack was so overloaded and the top was sticking up so high that there was no room for the canoe on my shoulders. Probably for the best.
There’s a lookout part way along the portage that let’s you see a pretty waterfall where the river drops most of the distance down to Cedar Lake. The rest of the length of the portage parallels an impressive rapids. One of the advantages of travelling upstream is that you can scout out the take out points and the rapids before putting the canoe in the water which reduces the risk of being accidentally swept into white water.
The lower end of the rapids where the Petawawa River enters Cedar Lake.
The upper end of the rapids above the falls.
This waterfall, further upstream, is much larger than the lower one even though the portage is much shorter.
You can see the water we'll be paddling after the portage beyond the swift at the top of the falls.
Apparently some forest fires in Quebec were contributing to the haze this morning.
The falls along the first portage where the Petawawa River drops to the level of Cedar Lake.
The challenging 2300m Unicorn Hill portage goes around the Stacks Rapids.
The second portage is much shorter than the first, but it climbs over an even more impressive (and beautiful) water fall. The falls are visible from the take-out point for the portage. Several day trippers had left their canoes at the take-out blocking the portage while they walked to the other end, so we had some difficulty unloading our packs, but after that it was a fairly easy walk to the top. When you put in at the top of the falls it’s essential that you turn right and not left!
After an easy paddle up the river we came to the Stacks Rapids and the big portage of the day. The portage is a fairly easy trail and isn’t particularly rugged, but it heads steadily uphill for about a kilometre before dropping slightly for the second half. It wanders pretty far into the bush so there’s very little view of the rapids as you ascend, which is a shame, because they’re quite impressive looking.
We didn’t want to get too spread out, so we decided to do short stages to break up the length. My pack wasn’t the only one that was overloaded, and when we stopped for our first break I took Sherri’s pack after going back for the canoe. Each time I thought I was near the top of the hill I’d turn another corner and it would get steeper. I lost count of my trips back and forth (and forgot my GPSr for one short trip back) but I must have covered most portions of the portage five times, which lengthened it to almost 10Km!
I was winded by the time I got both packs and the canoe to the peak, but it was as I went down the other side that I began to feel an unfamiliar grinding in my right hip. Even though we were coming down the hill now I needed almost as many rest stops as on the way up, and my hip was getting worse as I went. I was fine while carrying the canoe, but my pack was obviously too heavy. Sherri took her pack back for part of the way down which provided some relief, but it was definitely not easy going.
Bunny squeak toy
At one point we stopped for a breather and Sherri stepped off the trail. We heard a loud squealing like a dog’s chew toy. Sherri jumped, and a tiny little rabbit hopped out of the branches she was standing on and ran across the trail. The poor thing was terrified, but appeared unharmed despite having been stepped on.
Like all portages this one eventually ended. The bugs were so bad on the portage that I had been wearing a long sleeved shirt intended for cool nights around the campfire and not the heat of the day. We each had a cloud of mosquitoes circling our heads, so we didn’t stop to rest when we got the end, we just paddled across a pool in the river and then enjoyed a mercifully short 170m portage to Narrowbag Lake. The Narrowbag portage is a bit steep, but otherwise easy, and the hill is crowned with the remains of an old rail line, now just a trail.
Narrowbag was our first chance to relax after the big portage and get out of the bugs. The sun had finally come out, and it was turning into a nice day. I spotted an odd looking bird on a rock as we paddled around a bend in the lake. I was trying to figure out what kind of bird it was when Xander exclaimed, “Look, a moose!”. What I had thought was a bird was the head of the moose and I mistook his body for a rock. The moose was grazing in the reeds of the marsh and was quite comfortable with us paddling fairly close for a good look.
Sherri got much better pictures of the moose than I thanks to her long lens.
Just before we started the short portage from Narrowbag Lake to Catfish Lake.
Those boards in the water are all that remains of the Log Chute between Narrowbag Lake and Catfish Lake
Looking past the old log chute between Narrowbag and Catfish Lakes.
Most stumps float in the water if at all. This one floats in the air.
Getting excited about a moose sighting in Algonquin is almost as silly as complaining about the mosquitoes, but despite numerous backcountry canoe trips and hikes I’ve never met a moose in the wild, so I had really been hoping that we’d do so on this trip. We took several pictures of the moose and she didn’t wander off until after we had turned around and paddled away.
The far end of Narrowbag Lake has a very short portage around a small swift that contains the remains of an old log chute. When we pushed the second canoe into the water we were going across the current and the flow hitting us broadside made it hard to turn. By the time we had ourselves perpendicular to the flow we were on the far side of the stream and had been pushed right to the top of the chute. Despite our paddling we were still slipping back slowly so I yelled out “Harder!” and we finally broke free after giving it the last of our energy.
The batteries in my GPSr died as we paddled down the north end of Catfish Lake. I knew that there was an island campsite nearby, but I wasn’t sure which island. We were close enough that I didn’t bother to dig the batteries or the map out of my pack, and we found the site easily enough.
We were so tired after the day of portaging that I was considering not gathering wood for a fire, but then I remembered that our first night’s dinner was frozen steak which would cook much better over a fire than on the stove. I needn’t have worried. Not only did the island have a large pile of firewood ready for us, we realized that we’d forgotten all of our frozen food in the car when we packed that morning! This was a bit of a blow because we were missing two dinners and part of one breakfast. We considered cutting the trip short, but managed to make do by cannibalizing other meals. If anything we still had a bit more food than we needed, but by the end of the trip we only had a small emergency supply thanks to some hearty eating.
Our island campsite wasn’t nearly as buggy as the woods surrounding the portages, but we definitely needed to scurry into our tents after sunset, and there were times during the day where the bugs would drive us into the shelter for our meals. But by the end of the trip we were getting used to cooking, eating and reading while mosquitoes and black flies swarmed all around us.
Day 3: The Alligator
We were pretty exhausted and very sore on Canada Day so we didn’t move very quickly. We decided to postpone the easy trip to Burntroot Lake and take our down day on Catfish instead to recover.
There’s an abandoned Alligator Tug on an island at the north end of Catfish Lake, right next to the island where we were camped making it an easy excursion for a tired day. An Alligator is a highly improbable steam powered boat equipped with a donkey (winch). The Alligator’s purpose was to tow logging booms across remote lakes. The feature that elevates the donkey from being merely a quaint antique to blissful ridiculousness in my mind is it’s ability to winch itself across the land using it’s donkey. Essentially it was an amphibious vehicle with an incredibly inefficient means of overland locomotion. The Alligator was one of the few powered vehicles of its era smaller than a locomotive that could reach the remote lakes of the Canadian north.
The island with our campsite is visible from the island where the Alligator was decommissioned.
The boiler of the Alligator on Catfish Lake.
The large winch drum and the brake band are visible at the top left of this shot.
The boiler of the Alligator on Catfish Lake.
The cable guide for the winch is clearly visible in this shot.
The single cylinder of the Alligator engine is in the foreground, the winch and brake are to the right and the boiler is to the left. Gear train in the middle.
Part of the Alligator's geartrain.
Xander rests on the large gear that drove the two paddle wheels of the Alligator.
We had been cautioned that the Alligator on Catfish Lake wasn’t nearly as well preserved as the one on Burntroot Lake, so I was relieved to discover that even though all of the wood structure has rotted away, most of the mechanical components appear to be intact. One of my other hobbies is machining and I have a fondness for steam technology, so I was more interested in the ‘naked’ Alligator than the wooden superstructure anyway. I’m still disappointed that we didn’t get to see the more complete Alligator on Burntroot Lake, but I really enjoyed taking pictures of the mechanical works of the one on Catfish and trying to reconstruct it mentally.
Days 4 – 7: Exploring Catfish
We spent the remainder of our days on Catfish Lake exploring. We visited Turtle Rock where natives used to worship, and searched for the remains of an old Ranger Cabin on the shore near our campsite (we couldn’t find the cabin remains, it’s apparently very hard to spot). We paddled to the south end of the lake where the portage around the Catfish Rapids begins the trip to Burntroot and we headed part way up the winding channel through the reeds that leads to Sunfish Lake and the portage to Hogan Lake. The passage between Sunfish and Catfish Lakes was the only reason we attempted this trip so early in the season. Normally I would have scheduled later to avoid the bugs, but the channel gets clogged with vegetation later in the summer and I didn’t want to risk it being blocked.
Natives used to worship at Turtle Rock on Catfish Lake.
I love the way the mist gives each layer of islands a different colour.
This 'field' is actually a marsh. There is a navigable channel through the marsh to Hogan Lake.
The path to Sunfish Lake and then Hogan Lake winds through this valley. Really wish we'd made it to that part of the trip!
Near the mouth of the channel to Lynx Lake.
A couple of hours after the rain we could see the mist drifting through a gap in the trees, lit by the sun. Didn't quite catch it in this photo.
Lynx Lake is just around the last bend.
Natives used to worship at Turtle Rock on Catfish Lake.
I love the way the mist gives each layer of islands a different colour.
We saw another moose while paddling the marshy channel to Lynx Lake, but she was shier than the one we encountered on Narrowbag Lake and fled into the woods soon after Xander spotted her. We also spotted a loon on her nest protecting her hatchlings, and saw the great blue heron that nests near our campsite many times.
Despite some pretty dire weather warnings before we set out it only rained once for about an hour during the whole trip, and we were well prepared when it came down so we didn’t even get wet. Early on the days were pretty gloomy, but towards the end we had beautiful weather, and every day of the trip had at least some sunshine.
Day 8: The Return
By the time we were ready to leave we’d lightened our packs by almost thirty pounds thanks to eating most of the food. This allowed us to repack in a much more humane way for the return trip. As usual we got on the water later than planned. We hadn’t thought to set an alarm since I’d woken early every day of the trip, but Saturday morning we all slept in until 8AM, and by the time we made breakfast, broke camp, and got on the water it was 11AM.
Saturday was a spectacular day, and the bugs were almost non-existent which made the portages more bearable if not easier. We reversed our route from the first day, and it didn’t take long to reach the start of the Unicorn Hill portage. The trail climbs in this direction as well, but it isn’t nearly as steep as when we came in. I was able to carry my pack and then the canoe to the top in one go each without a break. Going down the other side was even easier, but I was starting to get tired near the end with the canoe. Since all of our packs were lighter Sherri was able to carry her pack across all of the portages so we only ended up doing a double carry in two stages and this time it took us an hour and a half instead of three and a half hours to complete the portage.
The top end of the Stacks Rapids.
The Unicorn Hill portage is long and steep, but not particularly rugged. This is the only really rocky section and it's only about 10 or 20 meters long.
The taller of the two water falls from below.
The sun about to set just before we cross Cedar Lake.
The perfect end to a hard day.
Together those three blue packs contained almost all of our posessions for a week. At the outset they weighted about 120 lbs, by the end they were down to 90 lbs.
We stopped at the end of the portage to eat and refill our water bottles before paddling down the river to the first waterfall. The wind was at our backs so we made good time without much effort. We were pretty cautious looking for the take-out because we didn’t want to get swept over the falls if we missed the portage. The falls are tall, and the take-out is very close to the edge.
We had just unloaded the gear when we realized that we’d left the camera monopod that Sherri had been using as a hiking pole at the last portage. I debated just leaving it, but Sherri and I decided to paddle back while Xander carried all the gear down the short portage alone. This time we were going against the wind and it was much tougher going. We had to paddle pretty hard, and the detour cost us over an hour. We only stopped long enough to grab the monopod before drifting back downwind to the falls. That was perhaps a mistake because later in the day we realized that we’d also misplaced a small fanny pack and it may have been left at the same portage. There wasn’t much in it, but still, who wants to litter?
The scenery changes dramatically after the large waterfall, becoming less rugged and rocky, but it was such a beautiful time of day that it was still spectacular. The sun was getting low and casting the golden light so valued by photographers on the green hills.
I tried a single carry for the last portage since it was downhill and I hadn’t done one yet this trip (Xander did a few on the way back). I had meant to stop and look at the rapids again on the way by, but they were too close to the start of the trail so I decided to do the whole thing in one go and then double back. The weight of the canoe really made the straps of my pack bite into my shoulders, and by the end of the 700m I could feel the extra weight on my spine and hips. But I wasn’t as wrecked as I had been a week before!
Paddling across Cedar Lake in the setting sun was a great way to end the trip. The wind was coming from the west, so it didn’t really help or hinder us, but I gave the wrong directions to Xander which forced him to take a detour against the wind.
We chatted with the friendly locals in Brent as we loaded our gear back onto the car, and then began the drive back to North Bay at dusk. We spotted a moose (almost hit him actually) on the drive out, and possibly a bear.
Days 3 – 7 Revisited: The Mental Journey
If you’ve read this far and are paying attention you’ll notice that we never reached Hogan Lake, our intended destination. We didn’t even make it to Burntroot Lake. In a way this was the hardest part of the trip for me. After our first day of rest on Catfish our muscles were well on the way to recovery, but we were still exhausted. We needed to replenish our energy before continuing.
We had a small window if we wanted to make Hogan Lake since we only had two extra days on our schedule for the trip, and every day we delayed at Catfish meant more days that we’d have to do consecutively before returning. The trip to Burntroot isn’t particularly hard, and from there to Hogan is even easier. But the return trip from Hogan to Catfish has two long portages and I was worried about doing them the day before the long return trip from Catfish over Unicorn Hill.
Every morning we’d discuss ways to alter the trip so that we could continue, and every night I’d lie awake desperate to continue on, but not wanting to push ourselves too hard and ruin the trip. When you only have time for two good trips per year it’s frustrating to see one go up in smoke. And if I couldn’t bring myself to finish this trip now that we’d already done the hard part, who was I kidding thinking I could come back and try the whole thing again?
But I think what really made me lose my nerve was the grinding I’d felt in my hip as we descended Unicorn Hill. A bad hip could put an end to all trips, not just this one, and that made me think that we were overmatched (and I was over the hill). A group portage isn’t like a chain. If the weakest link in the group can’t handle the load the work can be redistributed and the others can compensate. But if the strongest person fails then the group can’t go on. Since I’d brought us all out here I was responsible for getting us back.
Our first ever bannock (cooked on the camp stove, not the fire in the background) turned out pretty well. We salted it with trail mix and it tasted a bit like roti.
The problem with camping on an island is you tend to take the same pictures over and over 🙂
Our neighbour to the south in the morning sun.
Originally planned as a lunch, these quesadillas took the place of one of our missing dinners. Another recipe courtesy of Kevin Callan, and a welcome change from dehydrated ground beef.
We hid from the bugs and rain under our tarp. The rain was heavy but didn't last long.
The gravity filter saved us tons of work compared to the pump.
Our first ever bannock (cooked on the camp stove, not the fire in the background) turned out pretty well. We salted it with trail mix and it tasted a bit like roti.
The problem with camping on an island is you tend to take the same pictures over and over 🙂
Our neighbour to the south in the morning sun.
Originally planned as a lunch, these quesadillas took the place of one of our missing dinners. Another recipe courtesy of Kevin Callan, and a welcome change from dehydrated ground beef.
We hid from the bugs and rain under our tarp. The rain was heavy but didn't last long.
The gravity filter saved us tons of work compared to the pump.
Our first ever bannock (cooked on the camp stove, not the fire in the background) turned out pretty well. We salted it with trail mix and it tasted a bit like roti.
In retrospect I think that we could have done the whole trip, but it would have pushed our group right to our limits. There wasn’t much enthusiasm for continuing on from Catfish, and it’s probably best that we didn’t. I had wanted to go on a more relaxed camping trip with the family sometime, and that’s what this became. As nice as Catfish Lake is, it isn’t really ideal for such a trip. It is wilderness, and it is remote, but it’s also one of the main entry points to the north part of the park, so several groups of paddlers a day would pass by our island. The amount of effort we put in to get there didn’t relate directly to the isolation that we experienced. If we were just planning a family camping trip we could have easily gone to a more accessible area closer to home.
This trip has caused me to doubt my limits, and I’ll certainly consider it when planning trips in the future. I don’t want to be responsible for an accident, and I also don’t like deviating from our planned schedule in a busy park, since it’s not respectful of the other users. I had checked with the park office before we headed out and knew that there were available sites on all of the lakes we were going to cross, but there could have been late bookings or other trippers experiencing delays.
I struggled with keeping my spirits up. I was crushed about the trip we weren’t having, but I wanted to enjoy the one we were. Despite some dark thoughts and self doubt I did manage to appreciate that we were almost alone in a beautiful spot, experiencing great weather. Other than the bugs it was a Canadian paradise. We also succeeded in one of our goals which was to plan and manage a longer camping trip. The camping portion of the trip went off almost effortlessly despite some glitches thanks to good planning and preparation and we were quite comfortable. If anything perhaps we were too comfortable and that’s why our gear overwhelmed us on the portages. It was a lovely week in the wilderness even if it wasn’t the week that we planned.
