Our site on Mangotasi. At the beginning of September, Mike and I once again went backcountry canoe camping with our friends Tracy and Kevin for 5 nights. This year's theme: pack light. We wanted to do a loop instead of an out-and-back like we've done in previous years, and our chosen route meant several portages, the longest about 3 km, and a different campsite every night. As the longest portage we'd ever done previously measured under 500m, this at first seemed, perhaps, a little daunting. So we planned ahead.
First, knowing we shouldn't pack the entire kitchen (only one small whisk and far less cutlery), obtaining light-weight equipment (tents, sleeping bags, sleeping pads, chairs, stove with fuel, etc.), and testing just how much weight we could each carry. Next, figuring out what food to take (mostly freeze-dried packs), and making sure we ate the heavier food in the two days before the big portage. Luckily, we started planning and prepping several months in advance, so we didn't have a huge rush the week before. Perhaps we're starting to get the hang of this...
We started our trip by heading up toward Round Lake, stopping for a nice picnic lunch near Bracebridge along the way. It has become our custom (this being our 3rd annual camping trip together) to stay at a Voyager Quest cabin the night before, enjoying a lovely supper prepared by the friendly staff. This year, we got our canoes early and paddled them to the cabin in what turned out to be the windiest evening of paddling. But, this enabled an early start the following morning, and that was the plan.
The day dawned bright and calm. Early starts before the wind picked up would become key to pleasant paddling and maximizing our enjoyment of each campsite. We made it across Round Lake to the Algonquin entrance, then through the river, through West and East Tea Lake, and finally into Mangotasi, a journey of 18 km, happily downwind.
First, knowing we shouldn't pack the entire kitchen (only one small whisk and far less cutlery), obtaining light-weight equipment (tents, sleeping bags, sleeping pads, chairs, stove with fuel, etc.), and testing just how much weight we could each carry. Next, figuring out what food to take (mostly freeze-dried packs), and making sure we ate the heavier food in the two days before the big portage. Luckily, we started planning and prepping several months in advance, so we didn't have a huge rush the week before. Perhaps we're starting to get the hang of this...
We started our trip by heading up toward Round Lake, stopping for a nice picnic lunch near Bracebridge along the way. It has become our custom (this being our 3rd annual camping trip together) to stay at a Voyager Quest cabin the night before, enjoying a lovely supper prepared by the friendly staff. This year, we got our canoes early and paddled them to the cabin in what turned out to be the windiest evening of paddling. But, this enabled an early start the following morning, and that was the plan.
The day dawned bright and calm. Early starts before the wind picked up would become key to pleasant paddling and maximizing our enjoyment of each campsite. We made it across Round Lake to the Algonquin entrance, then through the river, through West and East Tea Lake, and finally into Mangotasi, a journey of 18 km, happily downwind.
Early morning crane as we leave Mangotasi. Perhaps I should mention now, Mike started this journey with a sore back, yet kept a cheerful disposition, even knowing he'd have to carry a canoe over some potentially rough terrain after sleeping on the ground (well, on a thermorest on the ground). He did not complain. He did, however, come up with a philosophy that we all soon adopted: portaging is better if you think of it as a hike, carrying some stuff.
Our first full day off-grid took us a short distance to Biggar Lake, only about 6 km of paddling, including 3 small portages no longer than 500m. Mike repeated them so as not to carry as much (once with canoe, then again with pack), and to stretch out his back (he had discovered in the weeks leading up to the trip that a good morning walk helped sort out the pain somewhat), while the rest of us tested out single-trips with our pack-light packs. We had absolutely still waters and encountered few other paddlers.
We shared our site on Biggar with a variety of fun frogs and birds, enjoyed some swimming, and generally relaxed.
Our first full day off-grid took us a short distance to Biggar Lake, only about 6 km of paddling, including 3 small portages no longer than 500m. Mike repeated them so as not to carry as much (once with canoe, then again with pack), and to stretch out his back (he had discovered in the weeks leading up to the trip that a good morning walk helped sort out the pain somewhat), while the rest of us tested out single-trips with our pack-light packs. We had absolutely still waters and encountered few other paddlers.
We shared our site on Biggar with a variety of fun frogs and birds, enjoyed some swimming, and generally relaxed.
Bald eagle And then we headed out on another calm morning through Kawa and Upper Kawa Lakes (beautiful, as is most of Algonquin) toward Three Mile Lake, about 11.5 km total paddling and four portages totaling about 3 km. Along the way, we saw cormorants, a bald eagle, and some frogs.
Three Mile has some unfortunate history to it, including an island where, during a storm, a camper died after lightning struck a tree and fell on the poor sod. Some people report uneasy feelings around that island. Mike dubbed it 'Murder Island', and we decided to steer clear of it, just in case. We did, however, encounter another spot that left us a little nervous.
As we approached a campsite, both Mike and I saw a man reading in a chair by the water's edge, its clear occupation prompting us not to look too close at it as a potential stopping point for the night. However, a moment later, the man disappeared. This caused some confusion, and Mike decided to investigate. We pulled our canoe close; Mike got out and took a look around, finding no one and no equipment, and no indication that anyone had just vacated the area. Tracy and Kevin, who pulled up nearby, were confused by our bewilderment, for they hadn't seen anyone, and wanted to know if we were stopping for the night. Once we determined that, despite the decent quality of the camp, we really didn't want to share it with a reclusive ghost, we continued on our way, eventually reaching the 3 km portage, which had a campsite right beside it, though well sheltered. We stayed there instead. No Murder Island, no Ghost Island. Probably a good choice.
Three Mile has some unfortunate history to it, including an island where, during a storm, a camper died after lightning struck a tree and fell on the poor sod. Some people report uneasy feelings around that island. Mike dubbed it 'Murder Island', and we decided to steer clear of it, just in case. We did, however, encounter another spot that left us a little nervous.
As we approached a campsite, both Mike and I saw a man reading in a chair by the water's edge, its clear occupation prompting us not to look too close at it as a potential stopping point for the night. However, a moment later, the man disappeared. This caused some confusion, and Mike decided to investigate. We pulled our canoe close; Mike got out and took a look around, finding no one and no equipment, and no indication that anyone had just vacated the area. Tracy and Kevin, who pulled up nearby, were confused by our bewilderment, for they hadn't seen anyone, and wanted to know if we were stopping for the night. Once we determined that, despite the decent quality of the camp, we really didn't want to share it with a reclusive ghost, we continued on our way, eventually reaching the 3 km portage, which had a campsite right beside it, though well sheltered. We stayed there instead. No Murder Island, no Ghost Island. Probably a good choice.
A SPECTRE OF SANCTUARY
Pristine waters
still as glass
with nary a breeze to disturb the
calm surface.
The gentle glide of a canoe
washes slow ripples in a languid wake
across the peaceful lake.
The approach to an island campsite
shows a man sitting, reading,
his gaze, should he glance up,
encompassing a serene view of forests
touched by the first kiss of autumn's flames,
skirted by sky-blue waters.
The canoe presses past,
slides near-silent along its watery highway.
A tree obscures the man on the shore,
yet he doesn't re-emerge into view--
has disappeared into nothingness,
his chair, his form, his very presence
vanished.
The canoe stops; the paddlers stare,
but no sign of the mysterious camper remains.
A moment of hesitation
before one ventures to explore the island.
Not a trace of the reader,
nothing to signal his presence--
no scuff, no mark, no indentation of a chair.
A retreat to the canoe,
a swift resumption of the journey.
They'll find no rest on this abandoned campsite.
Too many tales of haunted woe already stain the lake
and some of its otherwise inviting islands.
They'll not add another by invading
the sanctuary of a ghost.
Pristine waters
still as glass
with nary a breeze to disturb the
calm surface.
The gentle glide of a canoe
washes slow ripples in a languid wake
across the peaceful lake.
The approach to an island campsite
shows a man sitting, reading,
his gaze, should he glance up,
encompassing a serene view of forests
touched by the first kiss of autumn's flames,
skirted by sky-blue waters.
The canoe presses past,
slides near-silent along its watery highway.
A tree obscures the man on the shore,
yet he doesn't re-emerge into view--
has disappeared into nothingness,
his chair, his form, his very presence
vanished.
The canoe stops; the paddlers stare,
but no sign of the mysterious camper remains.
A moment of hesitation
before one ventures to explore the island.
Not a trace of the reader,
nothing to signal his presence--
no scuff, no mark, no indentation of a chair.
A retreat to the canoe,
a swift resumption of the journey.
They'll find no rest on this abandoned campsite.
Too many tales of haunted woe already stain the lake
and some of its otherwise inviting islands.
They'll not add another by invading
the sanctuary of a ghost.
Sunrise over Three Mile Lake's portage An early morning start the following day, where Mike and Kevin took the canoes on ahead over the 3 km portage while Tracy and I packed up camp. We enjoyed some tea and reading by the lake as we awaited the guys' return, then had breakfast and set off together for a nice hike while carrying things :)
Now we had reached Manitou Lake with warm, sunny weather. We found the site we had so enjoyed last year unoccupied, so quickly made it our home for the rest of the day. This involved Mike setting up our tarp, as our experience of Manitou usually included rain. Manitou did not disappoint (as Mike said). Though we managed some wonderful swimming beneath a cheerful sun in the early afternoon, late afternoon and evening brought high winds and plenty of rain with thunder and lightning. Although the first burst of rain tapered off with a rainbow, we had multiple other drenchings. We were very glad not to be the canoeists caught in that weather! Instead, we kept cozy and dry beneath Mike's masterwork of tarping, blazing fire lighting up the darkness of the evening. Happily, it stopped raining before we had to venture out to our tents (or the thunderbox) for the night.
Now we had reached Manitou Lake with warm, sunny weather. We found the site we had so enjoyed last year unoccupied, so quickly made it our home for the rest of the day. This involved Mike setting up our tarp, as our experience of Manitou usually included rain. Manitou did not disappoint (as Mike said). Though we managed some wonderful swimming beneath a cheerful sun in the early afternoon, late afternoon and evening brought high winds and plenty of rain with thunder and lightning. Although the first burst of rain tapered off with a rainbow, we had multiple other drenchings. We were very glad not to be the canoeists caught in that weather! Instead, we kept cozy and dry beneath Mike's masterwork of tarping, blazing fire lighting up the darkness of the evening. Happily, it stopped raining before we had to venture out to our tents (or the thunderbox) for the night.
Waterfall to North Tea The morning dawned misty and humid with a bit of a headwind. We set off toward North Tea Lake, taking the east portage (a bit longer portage), which has a pretty waterfall where we paused for photos and a snack. We had intended to use the same site as last year--a nice spot on an island--but it had poor options for shelter and tarp hanging, and we didn't trust the weather. So we pushed ahead against the wind, foregoing this fair-weather site, followed a loon, and found a much better location across the lake with lots of space, not too far from the exit portage. We spent a lovely, quiet, lazy afternoon, watching as the early weekend crowd started to arrive.
Who left that spike in the ground? The evening turned chilly, and we all layered up, but no one froze. Light rain mixed with sun took us back through the river to Round Lake, but little wind hampered us, making for a pleasant paddle on our last day.
Until we got back to the vehicle, all packed up and ready to go. Whereupon, we discovered that someone had taken down an old sign, but left the remnant spike in the ground, right about tire level, and right next to a new sign. We had parked beside this new sign, as the only spot left when we arrived on the Saturday of a long weekend. Sadly, the spike and the tire didn't get along well, especially not right after Kevin called to Mike: "Just gun it!"
But a temp tire, and the good folks at Kal Tire in Bracebridge saved the day, and we made it home all in one (mostly) piece. And Mike's back? Happily transformed by days of paddling, hiking with a canoe, and sleeping on the ground. (It took about two days being home, back to the grind, for that to revert :( )
Until we got back to the vehicle, all packed up and ready to go. Whereupon, we discovered that someone had taken down an old sign, but left the remnant spike in the ground, right about tire level, and right next to a new sign. We had parked beside this new sign, as the only spot left when we arrived on the Saturday of a long weekend. Sadly, the spike and the tire didn't get along well, especially not right after Kevin called to Mike: "Just gun it!"
But a temp tire, and the good folks at Kal Tire in Bracebridge saved the day, and we made it home all in one (mostly) piece. And Mike's back? Happily transformed by days of paddling, hiking with a canoe, and sleeping on the ground. (It took about two days being home, back to the grind, for that to revert :( )
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