Paddling Algonquin Provincial Park

Saturday, September 15, 2018

Hi Blog!

Yesterday we peddled. Today we paddled!

After exploring the Route 60 corridor through Algonquin Provincial Park the past two days, we decided to head over to Algonquin West for our paddle adventure. The Western Uplands of the Park are an extensive patchwork of lakes, ponds, rivers and streams. There are three access points from the west. We decided to use the closest access and paddle Rain Lake. The parking lot was full when we shoved off.

This access point is also used by backpackers who wish to traverse Western Uplands Backpack Trail. From this point, you can hike 32, 55 and 88 kilometer loops. This small bridge at the end of Rain Lake leads hikers off into the wilderness.

The backcountry of Algonquin Park does not really have individual “canoe routes,” but rather, there is one vast, interconnected canoe “network” shown on the Algonquin Provincial Park Canoe Routes Map-Brochure. Rather than being restricted to just a few possibilities, you can plan an almost incalculable number of possible trips thanks to the different choices that are possible at successive junctions in the route network. You can also just paddle about for the day without special permits, as long as you pay the park entry fee. Several day trippers were finishing their morning paddle as we began our journey.

Just as we cleared the dock, a group of backpackers pulled into the parking lot. Their puppies were so excited to finally get out of the car, they raced down to the dock and proceeded to help these fisherman dock their boat.

Just around the corner from the parking area, we came across a cabin. We later learned that this cabin was moved to Rain Lake from Cache Lake in the late 1970s. It was used as the backcountry permit office until 1995. Today, you can rent this ranger cabin from the park service. That picture window in the front would make a great spot to watch sunrise and sunset.

A hiss of wind through pinions

   The only sound they make;

Wingtips skimming sullen waves —

   Daybreak on the lake.

The mergansers are passing through;

   A spear of zebra snow

Lancing through the rising mist,

   Silent as they go.

Tooth billed, hooked beaked and ravenous,

   They arrow through the mere.

There’s many a carp in Candlewood

   Will see no spring next year.

And I shall wait the whole year through

   To hear their whirring hum;

The whispered call that mergansers

   To Candlewood have come.

The Mergansers by Felix Dennis

Rain Lake is five miles long. There are lots of islands, bays and coves to explore. Some sections are so narrow, it was hard to paddle side by side, while other parts of the lake are expansive. The wide open areas gave us lots of views of the coming fall foliage.

We paddle to explore. It is rarely about getting from point A to point B. Sometimes we paddle in circles just to see what we can see. You never know what you'll find like this little island in the making.

A lonely lake, a lonely shore,

A lone pine leaning on the moon;

All night the water-beating wings

Of a solitary loon.

With mournful wail from dusk to dawn

He gibbered at the taunting stars- 

A hermit-soul gone raving mad,

And beating at his bars. 

The Loon by Lew Sarett

Floating genteelly over the lake

with its breath taking beauty

Kayaking slowly past

my fingers sweep over its

soft yellow petals

Trying to take in all

its pure beauty

Watching the mergansers

slowly drifting by

In slow procession

Inspired by, "Short Poem," by Julie Leigh Rodeheaver

Several of the deeper bays had beaver lodges. The day was too bright and sunny to see any beaver activity, but the evidence of their activity was all around us.

I think that I shall never see 

A poem lovely as a tree. 

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest 

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast; 

A tree that looks at God all day, 

And lifts her leafy arms to pray; 

A tree that may in Summer wear 

A nest of robins in her hair; 

Upon whose bosom snow has lain; 

Who intimately lives with rain. 

Poems are made by fools like me, 

But only God can make a tree.

Trees by Joyce Kilmer

There are dozens of paddle-in campsites. We understand that competition for permits can be pretty fierce. We did notice a couple empty sites, but no sooner did we pass them, then we saw canoes loaded with gear heading out toward them.

The rolling hills of Algonquin are remnants of ancient mountain ranges that have long since weathered away due to the relentless forces of wind, rain, snow, ice and sun. The soil in the highlands is quite shallow and lies atop hard metamorphic rock. This moss we spotted turning from green to red doesn't seem to mind such a hard bed as it gets ready to take its long winter nap.

Paddling with loons is fun. They are cautious, but also curious. When they dive, you just never know when they will pop up again.  This one popped up right next to the kayak, and was so surprising that we barely had time to catch a photo of it:

We made it almost three miles down the lake before turning back. We ran into a group of canoe campers coming back from their multi-day journey. They looked ready to be done. We, on the other hand, would have loved to stay longer, but we have miles to go before we sleep.

We took our time leaving the park to allow our canoe friends a head start. Rain Lake Road is 25 kilometers of graded gravel. Our Jeep is dusty enough; no sense eating more dust if you don't have to. Besides, this gave us plenty of time to scout the lakes and ponds along the way.

And so ends our Algonquin adventure. We wish we had more time to explore this area. We hope to be back some day. We would love to do a multi-day kayak trip. Stay tuned.