Our photo album tells the love-story of a summer’s kayaking . We paddled (and I swam) in three of the Great Lakes (if you count Georgian Bay as the extension of Lake Huron), as well as exploring rivers and marshes. Always, here, good weather lures us outside; now, in the warmer months, I hunger to get out on the water.
Our longest paddle to date took us 12 km down the Beaver River, skirting submerged hazards and occasionally cutting back the dead-fall; all around us was the rich summer-green of early July woodland, wild and timeless. As we journeyed, a relay of kingfishers called their warning of our passage. The sighting of a bald-eagle nest was a truly special gift.
A gentle exploration of Gull Lake (Gravenhurst) warmed us up for slightly more challenging expeditions on Manitoulin Island, the biggest freshwater island in the world. On Maintoulin, we circuited Manitouwaning Bay (which opens onto Georgian Bay) from Two O’Clock to Manitouwaning and back across open water. And we paddled up the Kagawong River into Lake Kagawong, fighting the wind back down the lake, then floating lazily with the river’s gentle flow to our start point above Kagawong’s Bridal Falls – time disappears out on the water as the peace, the light and the reflections seep into the soul.
At Canada’s southernmost tip, the marshes at Point Pelee were almost eerie in their quietness (or possibly Erie – sorry, bad pun!) and the light was especially awesome; but it was the paddle from our B&B, with a short portage across a sand bar, into Wheatley Provincial Park that delivered more herons than we have ever seen and a white wonder of egrets.
Nearer to home, from our local beach, a sunset paddle along the shores of Lake Ontario below the Hunt Club amazed us again that we can live in a city yet, with very little effort, feel so far away from it all! And the return view of the down-town lit red and gold still takes my breath away.
Skies blue enough to swim in, Fall sunshine, still warm but gentler now than summer’s pounding intensity.
Pumpkin, squash and indian corn; orange dominating, but highlighted in shades of yellow, cream and gold, with dashes of green for contrast – resonant with the gratitude of harvest. Farm-store feeding frenzy – the busiest day of the year; pies, pies and more pies – apple, blueberry, bumble-berry, pumpkin (of course) and more, flying from the shelves.
A fantasy of domed turrets from a Russian folk-tale beckons, resolving into fabulous, wooden Eastern Catholic church, St. Elias. Ukrainian folk-song, hauntingly wraps round me as I absorb the sense of shared thankfulness of the apple festival, of a place truly built to the glory of God.
Counting caterpillars as we walk (along with blessings), furry brown and orange, exuberance bursting from us, hearts full.
” Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue”, over a jewelled landscape; flying, flung free a while – it is not difficult to relate to the thought of “touching the face of God”. (Read more)
Reflected reds, golds and greens; the shimmering of Aspens caressed by a warm breeze; an occasional flurry of yellow leaves, swirling like snow; a single splash of red, spiralling downward; cathedral columns, drawing the eye heavenward.
I still get a real kick from the discovery of wild, solitary places in this urban sprawl.
We hiked 11.5 km at the weekend along the shores of Ontario’s shining waters, first down the ravine bounded by a tumbling stream to Bea McCowan’s sculpture Passage; then along an empty gravel road beneath the bluffs and then back up to the cliff top, through woodland glades jewel-studded with wild-flowers. A lovely walk – very hard to believe that we were still in the city.
[Route: The Doris McCarthy Trail, along the shore and up through Guildwood Park, following the cliff as far as possible before cutting through the leafy streets to Sylvan Park and back to our starting point]
[If you click into any photo to enlarge it, you can then page through all of them as an album!]
June 30 Arriving at Whisperwood late afternoon on Saturday – first impressions: green, cool, black-mirror water studded with clouds, air loud with birdsong (so many voices I don’t recognize) and, as evening falls, the acapella twang and gurgle of frogs. Peace does not imply an absence of sound!
July 1 (Canada Day!) Needless to say the dawn chorus is awesome, but, this first morning, we are late risers. Legs dangling from the dock, soaking up the stillness over coffee and cinnamon buns, the peace is punctuated by a yelp of surprise from Paul as a rather large turtle nibbled his toe. Later, we narrowly missed a cottage incursion by chipmunk, even though all our screen doors were closed.
Happy birthday Canada! Canadian bacon in a bun, Kawartha ice cream and free birthday cake (two kinds!) served by sumptuously sequined ladies (not sure what this tradition signifies, but a little like the Cockney ‘Pearly Queens’) on the town-dock in Parry Sound. Then, under an all but full moon, ‘Christmas in July’, a procession of jewel-lit boats (headed by the Police launch) though the thronged harbour – the warm-up act for the ubiquitous but still impressive fireworks. Parry Sound has a population of 6,500; how is it that even these small towns put on such a spectacular show, filling the summer night with stars and magic?
July 2 Truly a day on which to enjoy the luxury of doing nothing and then resting afterwards. A pre-brunch swim in the silken water of the dock; hammock-time and a good book, with the delicious distraction of those bird-voices, singers tantalizingly close yet so hard to see. We are now on good terms with our chipmunk (though we have learned to shut the door), handing over peanuts on demand. The ability to carry three shells-ful of peanuts in the pouches of one small mouth is awesome.
July 3 Slob-out day (and itching)! I really could do without being irresistible to biting insects!
July 4 So much water; swimming, kayaks, canoes, docks and a gently sloping sandy bay – and wonderful wildlife. Nosing the canoe into the muskeg to stalk darting dragonflies (deep red, blue and turquoise); another turtle passing by; easing towards a frog-prince, enthroned on his lily pad; then graced by the majestic stillness of a blue heron until our presence prompted him to rise, soaring over the lake and above the trees; and, finally, an otter breaking the surface to leap with a fish, disappearing to emerge somewhere completely different, playing hide and seek with us!
Evening brought the arrival of friends Steve and Paul K, and the joy of good food, good wine and good company!
July 5 A day to share the peace and pleasures of this place. Sightings of Ruby Throated Hummingbirds, Wild Turkey and deer were a bonus (though we were quite pleased not to have a close encounter with the mother bear with two cubs with whom we share these woods). Having thought about it, though, Paul K did decide he would quite like to see a bear.
July 6 Where better to spend a scorchingly hot summer’s day than on the waters of Georgian Bay? The M.V. Chippewa III, formerly one of the Maid of the Mist boats at Niagara Falls, took us out through the swing-bridge at Parry Sound into the labyrinthine channels of the 30,000 islands towards the perfect island lunch of Pickerel (fish) and fries (chips) at Henry’s, appropriately enough at Sans Souci on Frying Pan Island – deserving of its reputation as a Muskoka classic.
On the return cruise (two hours), we watched as a baby black bear swam to shore and clambered out of the water, just across a narrow channel from another island restaurant, Craganmor’s – and, of course, it was Paul K. who spotted it. Life doesn’t get much better than this!
July 7 As Paul and Steve headed back to Toronto, we reverted to inactivity after a brief excursion to the tip to get rid of our garbage. Lesson for the day; always drive round the tip and observe before leaving your car. It is not unheard of to be surprised by a bear clambering out of a bin!
July 8Algonquin bound, we stopped in Hunstsville for brunch at 3 Guys and a Stove – great choice! With just a day in which to get a taste of this oldest of Canada’s national parks, we drove east to the visitor centre (really interesting) and fitted in three short (but steep) hikes; to a waterfall and to two lookouts, both with stunning views over the wilderness.
Wildlife seems to be appearing to order (except for the beaver, who remain elusive); I asked for moose and, sure enough, we spotted two just before we reached the Eastern Gate and were able to watch them for a few minutes before they headed back into the trees.
The dusk drive home brought our fifth ever bear sighting, and probably the most dramatic, as a black shadow bounded across the road in front of us and disappeared into the forest – such a sense of the power of this wonderful creature.
July 9 Chill time – with much idle enjoyment in pursuing the perfect chipmunk shot – we now have three regular visitors, though a scrap ensues if more than one arrives at a time!
July 10 Drive time; Muskoka was described to us by a boat salesman as a place where people buy cottages because their business associates have them. Touring the lakes, the small towns and villages, the natural beauty vies with the gloss of the kind of ‘simplicity’ that tends to carry a premium price tag.
There are glorious vistas, millionaire cottages and islands, boats, boats and more boats (I have committed to permanent memory an antique wooden one with the elegance of a vintage Rolls Royce), yet, perhaps because I don’t live that kind of life, I didn’t feel that connectedness that tugs at the soul until we reached Rosseau, right at the north of the lake system. Both of us found a tranquility, a warmth, a sense of community here that we hadn’t sensed elsewhere – and I was seduced by a swim-suit designed as an homage to 50’s glamour and curves, a rather more affordable luxury than the boat that stole my heart.
Should fortune come knocking, Rosseau just might beckon . . .
Wildlife encounter of the day was a White Tailed Deer that danced across the road in front of us.
July 11 A cottage day; sitting on the dock and relishing the slightly gentler heat; finally beating Paul on a round of Backgammon – and in style, with a ‘Gammon’!
July 12 After a slight interruption to provide e-mail support for my daughter, Jess (the joys of modern technology pursue one everywhere!), back to the shores of Georgian Bay, this time to explore Killbear Provincial Park. A fabulous day-use beach gives onto the distinctive rocky shoreline – eons ago, so we are told, the Hudson Bay expelled a vast surge of water under the glaciers over a few days or even hours. The force of this smoothed and sculpted the shield rock, also dropping boulders hundreds of miles from their source. Once again I find myself awed by the Great Lakes – I know that I do not ever want to live too far from the ‘big water’!
July 13 Our last day; we make the most of it, portaging a canoe to the next lake – very different from our spruce bog, with a small sandy entry and quite a large seasonal cottage community. Poking around among the waterlilies, the air is studded with dragonflies, glinting. We see quite large fish – and then a brown head that I’d convinced myself was a log ducks out of sight; was it that elusive beaver? (The more I think about it, the more I think it was!)
Later, back on our own lake, I finally take out the kayak (my back has been misbehaving, sadly pushing this off the agenda for most of our stay). It eases through the glassy water so effortlessly; I now understand Paul’s disdain for the cumbersome canoe, though it does have its place both for companionability and for carrying the gear.
Today I said I wanted to see a woodpecker; it appeared, to order. A sound below our deck – not quite the normal chipmunk chatter; so I look, and the woodpecker attacking a log on the ground takes flight into a nearby tree.
Meanwhile, our alpha chipmunk (there are three regular visitors) has become ludicrously bossy and brave, bullying us for more peanuts and climbing all over Paul to make sure he gets them. It is easy to see that he is bigger, stronger, brighter and more courageous than his peers.
July 14 Time to leave. We nearly had a stowaway – number one chipmunk was racing around us as we packed the car and I half expected to hear rustling and scolding from the luggage as we drove away. I think the mark of a good holiday is that you are simultaneously sad to leave but so re-energized that you are looking forward to returning to ‘real life’! Our two weeks at Whisperwood definitely made the grade.
Bridal veils, cascades, double plunge – what an abundance of waterfalls Grey County has! A largely sunny Easter weekend provided the perfect opportunity to enjoy them in full flow.
The steep climb up through the woods to Indian Falls gifted us not only with stunning views of the falls themselves, but also a glorious meadow, cut through by the sinuous stillness of the river. A bat, flying across the blue of a daylight sky, transfixed us (I hope that this was not an aberration caused by the fungus that is attacking bats in Ontario) – and a butterfly echoed the blue of the sky. A scramble down rocks to the foot of the falls increased our sense of their size and power – I had a momentary awareness of what it must have been like to arrive, all unsuspecting, at Niagara in its natural state. If you look at the photo to the right above, you will just see Paul, photographing under the falls, which helps give a sense of the size of them.
Sitting at the foot of Jones Falls, I marveled at the strands of diamonds behind the white shrouds as the cascading Spring water roared.
Ingliss Falls, in the past harnessed to various human purposes (flour, bran, wool), pound their way down an impressive drop – a lovely spot for an Easter Monday picnic.
Walters Falls impressed us least, though almost made up for this with a serenely still millpond above a weir.
Our Easter break had started with Kayaking; the Beaver River, as a novice, I left to Paul as it included scary-sounding class 1 rapids; Lake Eugenia was a great spot for my first paddle of 2012 – disconcerting in the pull of wind and current as we paddled out to the island, blissfully still and peaceful in the lee, then exhilarating using the edge of the wave to power my stroke on the way back (though I rightly guessed that my arms would tell me about it later!).
There was still more water at the Scandinave Spa – hot pools (with man-made waterfalls), steam and sauna punctuated with frigid plunges and quiet time in rooms with panoramic windows looking out into the trees.
Having spent a couple of nights with old friends, we spent three nights just south of Wiarton making new ones at the wonderful Evergreen Forest Resort B&B in the heart of the forest – thank you, Doug and Carolyn, for being such warmly welcoming hosts!
The only thing wrong with our Easter break was that it went much too fast!
For more photos, see Grey County in our Ontario Photo Gallery
