Algonquin Park: Urbanites face up to nature in the wild

By Ilona Biro

Published in The Globe and Mail, Aug 10, 1996

LAKE OPEONGO, Ontario--Sooner or later it happens to all Canadians. Friends or relatives are coming to Canada for a visit, and they want the Canadian wilderness experience - say, a few days of camping and canoeing in Algonquin Park. Recently two friends from England called to say they were going to spend their honeymoon in Canada, and no sooner than you can say Mr. Canoehead, I was on the Net seeking advice from seasoned cyber-campers.

It was the first time I’d used the Net to plan a holiday, and I wasn’t sure it would be up to the task. But not only is it possible, I found it was the best way to obtain a lot of advice quickly from people who know what they’re talking about.

The first thing I did was post questions on the rec.travel newsgroup: would the bugs be bad in early June; should we leave our bug-hating dog behind; and where should we go for the best wilderness experience in the park. Within 24 hours we had responses from six people. Leave the dog behind they said, since bugs would almost certainly be bad in early June, and to avoid the worst of the infestation, look for a large lake where steady winds would blow the pesky critters away.

In the meantime, we found the e-mail address for an outfitter that was recommended to us, plus a web site that had so many links to useful information it was like one-stop shopping.

Meanwhile, our newlywed visitors, Rob and Emma, a couple of media types from London, admitted to us that they were “townies.” We are too, I told them over the phone, but not to worry. I’d make sure the grub was acceptable (i.e. lots of tea bags, eggs, etc.) and the portages as brief as possible.

After consulting with experts, and looking at the map, we decided to go to Lake Opeongo - the largest of the 2,500 lakes in the park. Algonquin Outfitters had a store there where we could get completely outfitted - canoes, tents, food, the works. And we also planned to set up camp on an exposed campsite on the lakeshore, and make daytrips to surrounding lakes.

Getting to the park, and to the access point at the bottom of Lake Opeongo would be easy enough. Highway 60 cuts through the park and passes by several access points and outfitting shops. But a few days before leaving, our borrowed car fell through. So we got on the Net again to inquire about alternative transportation. We were told about a Toronto-Algonquin shuttle service, and booked seats on one of their mini-vans.

The morning we set out, the CBC reported the weather would be variable. And just as we entered the park, it started to pour. And just as suddenly, it stopped. By the time we’d reached the outfitters, the sun had reappeared and we were being welcomed by a strapping young man named Josh. We told him about our plans, and he said, “Opeongo’s nice but don’t you think you guys should do at least one portage?” Well, I started to explain, with my husband’s back, and our general inexperience (the last time I’d camped was 20 years ago as a girl guide), we probably wouldn’t be up to it. “Not at all, not at all,” Josh replied convincingly. “Come on outside and we’ll try on a canoe.”

Moments later, our English friend, whose belly evinced a history of many pork pie lunches, was walking around with a canoe on his head. His bride, Emma, was just as quick to catch on.

After getting tips on the area from Josh, we decided to head to the top of Opeongo, via water taxi, then portage about two kilometers to Happy Isle Lake, where we’d set up a permanent base camp. There’d be a better chance of seeing wildlife there, said Josh. And no Opeongo headwinds to spoil your paddling. We hoisted our canoes onto the water taxi’s metal frame and fifteen minutes later, the taxi left the four of us on a dock with two enormous backpacks and two kevlar canoes. We donned our bug jackets (essential items in early June) and set off on our first portage - the Canadians took the canoes, while the English struggled valiantly with the packs.

Forty minutes and 2 kilometers later, we arrived at Happy Isle Lake - our home for the next three days. We paddled around the island and found a marvelous site, with a stone fireplace masterfully assembled by some previous campers. It was sheltered by a semicircle of white pine trees, with beautiful views over the lake and plenty of openings for the sun to shine through. Within an hour, we’d assembled our tents, set up a tarp for rainy spells, and hung our food bag in a tree. Then, the rain hit - for half an hour we stood under the tarp and wondered what we had gotten ourselves into. What we didn’t know then was that we’d have no more rain for the entire trip. But for the moment, things looked grim.

To cheer ourselves up, we talked about the meal we were about to make. Rob produced a jar of strong mustard from his bag. That prompted us to reveal a cache of chocolate and whiskey we had stowed away. It was at that moment that we all knew we’d be alright - rain or shine.

The next morning, we did a short 300 metre portage to neighbouring Merchant Lake. Paddling around its banks, we came across a large exposed rockface, brilliant with sunshine. We picknicked on it and spent the day fishing, swimming and snoozing until a loon calling in the distance inspired us to make our way back to camp.

The next day we decided to forgo any portaging, and try instead to go to a tiny adjoining lake called Adrienne. As it turned out, Adrienne Lake was reachable only through a swampy, grown-in creek that only a moose could navigate. Down at the corner of Happy Isle Lake, we found a series of narrow pools that would lead to Adrienne. At the mouth of the first one, what we thought was a stump turned out to be a beaver staring us down. We paddled right up to him, still under the illusion he was a log, and were startled when he dove underwater with a huge splash.

Still thrilled by what we’d just witnessed, we drifted into the next pool where a female moose, feeding noisily on water plants, was oblivious to our arrival. Moose are the largest land mammals in North America, and sightings in Algonquin are frequent and exhilarating. And it was not yet over for us. When we finally ventured into the last pool we saw it harboured a moose calf, who rushed to join his mother once he saw us approaching. We turned our canoes around, and paddled back to camp, feeling in harmony with the park and its wildlife.

Our last day we portaged back, a few pounds lighter, and had a final paddle into Hailstorm Creek - a bog at the north end of Lake Opeongo. It was high noon, and we didn’t expect to see any animals. But once again we came across a moose, this time a bull, feeding on succulent water plants.

We had gone to sleep each night to the sounds of bullfrogs and owls. Occasionally a loon would call out. And of the moose, bears, wolves, beaver and bullfrogs that inhabit Algonquin Park, we’d seen or heard all but the bears. Our Canadian adventure over, we headed back to Toronto in search of oysters and a proper cup of English tea.

IF YOU GO:

INTERNET TIP: A one-stop shopping website for Algonquin Park is: http://www.clo.com/~mkean/noframe.html#WWW

OUTFITTERS: There are more than a dozen outfitting services located in and around Algonquin Park. Locations and addresses are shown on the Canoe Routes of Algonquin Provincial Park map available through the Ministry of Natural Resources or outdoor equipment shops for $4.95. Detailed directions are given for 29 different access points along with information on planning a canoe trip.The map and various other publications can also be ordered from Friends of Algonquin listed in the website mentioned above. My experience with Algonquin Outfitters was excellent. They can be reached via e-mail at: canoe@muskoka.com, or by phone (705)635-2243.

IN JULY AND AUGUST: During the busy summer months, make a campground reservation by calling (705) 633-5538.

SIGHTSEEING: The Visitor’s Center and Logging Museum are both excellent ways to get to know the park and its history. Both are located just off the Highway 60 park corridor.

BEST TIME TO GO: When fall colours are at their peak, during the last week of September or the first week of October.