First Paddle of 2024 - This Feels Great

 Winter has drifted into spring and the temperature is slowly climbing into the "no jacket required" zone.

While winter held sway on the wilderness; I would open the barn door; behind which my prospector canoe hung upside down from the ceiling joists. The canoe seemed to stare at me and ask if it was time to take her down. I would touch her hull and whisper a simple word  "Soon". 

The tracing of snow we received this year; began to melt and the forest started to fill with the sounds of missing friends as they alighted on branches and called out to their mates. 

During this time of seasonal transition, I would wander to the edge of a nearby lake and test the ice which clung to the waters surface as if trying to defy the rising temperatures. 

One of those wanders provided me a green light to take my canoe down; set her up for a new season of paddling; and set off on a short excursion to find the skills which had been dormant for many months. 

The video posted is simply an account of that first paddle of 2024.  

You must remember that as the years slip past us, it leaves us with fewer years remaining to enjoy that which makes our hearts fulfilled. Don't procrastinate doing that which you love to do - just do it; because tomorrow is indeed, just around the corner. 

When the time comes that I can no longer paddle, I will be able to look back at these images and feel what it was to hold the paddle and face the wind and waves as a man of the wilderness. 

An Alligator in Algonquin Park.

As I wander through the wilderness and stumble across an old portage trail or an artifact, I ask the following questions - who was here before me? Why were they here? What were they feeling? 

Some of the questions will never be answered. Sometimes the answers are plain to see. 

The trails are littered with evidence of those who went before us. Some of it is obvious, other evidence is camouflaged; blending into the surroundings so well that it takes a keen eye to uncover it. 

Ontario was a logger's paradise, hundreds of thousands of acres of ancient forest were pillaged by the logging barons in search of the mighty white pine. Evidence of their quest lays decaying on the forest floor in places like Algonquin Park. 

When I am canoeing in Algonquin Park, I always search for the remnants of the loggers efforts. I find it fascinating to pick up an old object such as a water pitcher or old tool and wonder - who held this?  Of course I will never know the answer, but my imagination begins to formulate ideas which are fun to ponder. 

This short video is based on one such search. 

  

Wind and rain conspire to make us stay on Philips Lake, but we push on to Lake La Muir.

Our itinerary for the day is to move from Philips Lake to Lake La Muir which sits 22 kilometers from our present campsite. 

Warm and cozy in our sleeping bags, we are reluctant to pack up and leave Philips Lake due to the rain which is soaking into the wilderness and our gear. 

The call of adventure lures us into our canoe and we head off into the mist and rain to face the trails and trials of the day. 

Once again, my guides show me the reason why I love the song of the paddle. 

Crazy random talk about nothing as we sit on the shoreline of Radiant Lake.

After a great day of paddling, Liam and I chill out on the shore of Radiant Lake.

Liam decides to do an impromptu interview which I vowed I would not post. I do have some sense of self esteem; however, when you hit my age, who cares. 

A canoe trip brings out some crazy stuff in people - Fun times.

During a trip like this, you shed a lot of baggage which society burdens you with. Nothing centers you better than long paddle on a remote lake.   

Physically drained, we push on to Philips Lake 16 km. away. Day six in Algonquin Park.

We strike camp before daylight and move down a dark river to the first portage of the day.

Upon reaching the take out for the 3,565 meter portage, we stow our gear on the bank of the river and fall asleep on the trail. 

As the darkness of the path relinquishes its hold and succumbs to the early dawn light, we shoulder our loads and face the ominous task of moving our gear over the long portage.

The path shortens with every step, yet our minds begin to fight our physical bodies and begin to fill us with doubt. 

I push back, knowing that the wilderness is just testing us and that if we blend and flow as I was taught long ago, we will find our breath and our strength. 

Today was a day of internal dialogue. The type which forces you to either hide or step up and face the challenge set before you.

You have to check this view out! Crow Lake in Algonquin Park.

After setting up the camp on Big Crow Lake, Liam and I paddled over to the Ranger cabin to find the trail to the summit.

The trail to the look-out is located behind the outhouse, We took a different route to the top.

If you find yourself on Big Crow Lake in Algonquin Park - it is worth the climb to see the view. 

As I was sitting on the ancient rock outcrop, I could feel the power of the place and felt privileged that I was sitting where the ancient ones sat hundreds of years prior to my arrival on the planet. 

Radiant Lake, Algonquin Park