Last summer my boyfriend and I ventured out into the wilderness. Some pretext for this story: my boyfriend had gone on a canoe trip once before. I, on the other hand, had not (hint, hint, here is some foreshadowing to how this story plays out). The story beings in Killarney Provincial Park where we arrive to our launch site. We started on 3 Mile Lake, a crystal blue expanse of water that spanned three miles (who knew). At the launch, we had reserved our park permit, sites and canoe rental all ahead of time and were set to go. We hopped in our little yellow canoe which would transport us in and out of the park. We paddled just under five kilometers on our first stint of the day and located camp earlier than expected. it was on this little outcropping of rock covered in fir needles that made a spongy top layer perfect for walking barefoot. We retired for the evening and enjoyed some pan-fried burgers around the campfire watching whispy pink clouds take over the sky.
Day two gets interesting. We wake up the next morning to rain. And the first bump of the day is getting lost trying to find our first portage, but this detour lead us to our first moose sighting! The second blip is when we reached our second portage, where we thought we could just leave half our gear in the canoe to be efficient. (Tip number one friends, don't do that). And because we didn't learn our lesson the first time, we decide to test the theory again on a 1500 metre portage.
Let me tell you friends, this portage was the most mentally and physically trying experience of my young 19 year old life. Being underfed and under-fit for the task, I was becoming very tired and frustrated as the rain poured down and the mosquitoes became overpopulated. Half way through, I was stung by a wasp on both of my calves sending me into a raging fit of tears. At this point we start dragging the canoe regardless of losing the chance to get our damage deposit back --but at this point it was worth it because we finally made it to the other end.
We cut our route short that day to set up camp and rest up. The second campsite, although not a planned stop, was actually quite sweet. Buried in the woods was our tent and out on a mini-peninsula was our fire and "pop-up" kitchen. Boy did we sleep well; After eating a slew of pasta sitting by a warm fire, we passed out promptly after.
The next day, although our hopes were low, we absolutely conquered our route. Four portages and over 20 km of paddling, the 1500 metre portage was motivation to let no other obstacle get us down. And finally our last campsite was absolutely beautiful! We were secluded on an outcropping, all except for a little beaver friend who was in fact inhabiting a nearby dam. The lake was so still that afternoon and it beckoned us to just break the smooth surface by cannon balling into the chilly water.
By day four we were getting to be real pros and it was a shame that we had to head home. We had a system, we built stamina, and we were growing keen on the landscape. The trip was a lesson in patience, in determination, and how to experience the now.The highlights were of course the person I was with and enjoying comfortable silences and one another's presence. But tips for the next time (or for anyone):
Pack lighter
Don't try to portage the "smart" way
Expect to re-route
Regardless it was one of the best things I've ever encountered and to this day we reminisce about it. We even discuss tackling the 1500 metre beast again someday. Tell me what your worst camping nightmares were, comment below!
Challenge yourself friends, it keeps things fun!
-Mimi
Photos courtesy of Matt Cousineau Photography