Archipelagoing

I took a full 2 weeks of running after Tally in the Valley, but I wasn't just sitting on my butt the whole time - last week Tanker and I spent a magical 5 days/4 nights paddling through the stunning beauty of the Georgian Bay archipelago in The Massasauga Provincial Park.

My view for the week - he provides the power up front, while I keep us on track from the stern.

We launched under overcast skies in light sprinkles of rain on Monday afternoon, with 10-15mm of rain predicted. No portages on this trip meant we could take whatever we pleased, so the boat was a bit loaded.

Just enough room left for 1 dork.

As we paddled from Pete's Place into the wind (which wasn't much - maybe 15kph?) toward the channel, a bit of sun emerged to light our way.

Always a good sign, that.

By the time we landed at our site, we'd only had one light rain shower - just enough to cool us off as we paddled a little more than 6.5km to site #221 at Inner Bay.

Arrival at our first campsite.

Tarped in against the rain predicted overnight.

I even brought my solo tarp to make a rainproof porch for our tent on the lovely, soft, sandy tent pad.

Some further light sprinkles of rain that evening, but the air was warm (at least 25c) so it wasn't an issue - I swam in the gentle embrace of the Bay's water from our sandy little landing point and Tanker tried a few casts from the rocky shoreline.

You can see the raindrops on the water, and how little he cares.

We weren't overjoyed by the amount of powerboat traffic coming through the Coon Gap and past our site, but due to the late inception of the park (est. 1989) there are a lot of private land holdings and many cottagers coming and going. While not as secluded as we could have hoped, it didn't totally spoil the backcountry feel of being in the park.

Especially when dozens of frogs sang and croaked through the night, including this big bullfrog who hung out on the path to the thunderbox.

Since the park was under a total fire ban and the mosquitoes are terrible in August, we retreated to the tent just after dark and were asleep by 10pm or so, which is totally out of character for our night owl selves but was the only way to survive without being carried off or bled dry. Just after retiring, a few rain showers blew through, but nothing like the deluge we'd been told to expect.

While the next day dawned cloudy, they soon broke to reveal beautiful sunshine. We both awoke very early - around 6:30am - and enjoyed the quiet morning by simply sitting and drinking a pot of Tanker's amazing camp coffee in our chairs by the water before moving onto any actual tasks.

A little peace of heaven.

After the first pot, it was time for some breakfast to go with the second. The tarp had kept our picnic table - which had seen better days but was still quite serviceable - lovely and dry for us to cook and eat a hearty meal of bacon and eggs on bagels.

I'm not exactly the queen of organization, but I'm a passable camp chef.

After filling our bellies for the paddle ahead, we packed up camp and loaded the boat as the weather turned truly beautiful.

Looking up the north channel - our direction of travel for the day.

Not wanting to get burned, we both donned lightweight longsleeve shirts to protect us from the sun, soaking them in Bay water to keep us cool on the hot day as we prepared to depart.

Lifejackets on and ready to go!

Pulling away from the site around 11:15am, we headed north through the archipelago, taking our time to marvel at the beautiful islands that surrounded us - north of Miron, south of Vanderdasson & Pennsylvania Island, where the Pennsylvania Club has stood since 1896.

It's one of my favourite places on earth.

With light winds and just a bit of chop in the channel, paddling was fairly easy work - there was more wave action from boat wakes than anything else. We decided to do an extra couple of hundred metres of travel to stop for lunch at Pilgrim's Rest day use area on Winnet Island, just southwest of our destination in Jenner Bay.

It was well worth the stop.

Arriving around 12:45pm after nearly 7km of paddling (and around 4hrs after breakfast), we were more than happy to shuck off our lifejackets and sit on the picnic tables with our canoe tied up at the dock, enjoying salami, mustard and vegan cheddar slices wrapped in corn tortillas for lunch.

Full bellies make for happy campers.

When we'd finished eating, we climbed back in the boat for the final mile of paddling into Jenner Bay, through its tiny channel - it's only about 20' wide at the northern end.

And absolutely beautiful.

Arriving by 1:30pm after almost 8.5km total travel (I don't plan hard days when we canoe tour - it's nice to take it easy on your holiday), we discovered our campsite - #601 - was set in a beautiful stand of pine trees that provided plenty of shade.

Tent pitched right by the fire pit, as we knew we wouldn't be using it despite the huge cache of firewood left by prior campers.

I waded and swam in the warm, clear water to cool off, and Tanker did some more fishing to while away the afternoon in our private little bay.

There were 2 other campsites there, but noone came to join us.

Toward evening a pair of loons paddled their way in through the narrow passage, constantly diving to hunt for fish. When they'd sated themselves, they began to call incessantly, and shortly a third loon came in for a landing on the small bay.

Nice of them to invite their buddy for some good fishing!

That wasn't the end, though - the three of them continued to call, and soon a fourth showed up, then a fifth and sixth came in for their swooping landings together. We had ourselves a proper loon party going on, their eerie song filling the evening air as I made us our dinner of broccoli, mushroom & bacon vegan mac and cheeze.

As the sun set, they all paddled out of Jenner Bay together, while the sky turned softly pink and we prepared to retreat to the safety of the tent.

Completely still and silent.

We did get slightly eaten alive while doing a quick tarp pitch to cover the table just before dark - the forecast had changed to 60% chance of rain in the morning, and I didn't want to deal with cooking in a shower. It turned out the only rain we got was a 5min sprinkle before 7am, ending just after we awoke and before we actually left the tent.

Though this tiny frog decided to hang out on the nice, dry table while we made and ate breakfast anyway.

By the time we'd had 2 pots of coffee and more bacon & eggs on bagels, everything was completely dry to pack up camp and get on our way just before 11:30am. There was significant cloud cover but we were back in our UV protective shirts as it was supposed to come up sunny later in the day. The air was still incredibly warm, though, so we were grateful for the tiny bit of cooling rain that fell for a few minutes here and there as we paddled southwest past Winnet Island and toward the open Bay.

Barely a hint of breeze.

A cormorant showing off his wingspan.

Sometimes I think a cloudy day is the best way to see the amazing geology of Georgian Bay.

Emerging from the protection of a chain of privately owned islands onto the open Bay, I was delighted to find it the calmest I think I've ever seen in my life. The still air overnight had killed off all but the slightest ground swell, and there was no chop to speak of. After subjecting poor Tanker to 3 days of wind and small craft warnings the last time we canoed on Georgian Bay, I was so relieved that its spirits had granted us such a relaxed passage.

Smooth sailing, or at least paddling.

After a bit less than 7.5km, we rounded the west end of Wreck Island and pulled into the day use area. We docked the boat (in case you wonder why we don't just pull her up like most people, our lightweight kevlar canoe's hull is not made to withstand a load when unsupported by the water, and it's easier to just tie her up than unload her), then changed our shoes to go check out the storied Wreck Island Interpretive Trail.

Tank on the dock getting ready to throw on his trail kicks.

We'd heard the 1.5km trail was a bit rugged, but it turned out to have more in common with the Killbear shoreline scramble than anything else - hopping from rock to rock, bumming our way down some descents and scrambling back up the climbs. We were quite happy we'd both brought real trail shoes with us; ones in which we'd recently climbed mountains, no less!

So very beautiful.

Enjoying using our legs for a bit!

Almost otherworldly.

We paused on a shoulder of rock overlooking the open Bay to eat some dried apple rings with a packet of pecan butter, then had more salami & cheez wraps back at the day use area for a solid lunch before setting off on a short jaunt along the south side of the island to finish a bit more than 8.5km of paddling on the day by 3:15pm. There's only 1 campsite on Wreck Island, and it was our for the night!

Much more what we think of as "Georgian Bay camping"

Located in a Y-shaped inlet near the southeast corner, #325 Islandscape is the most rugged site at which we'd camp during this trip. We eschewed our flip flops - our usual in-camp footwear - for our water shoes, with their sticky rubber soles and secure lacing to help keep us sure-footed on the sprawling rocky landscape.

Also super happy we brought our rock anchors to guy out the tent, as the raised wooden tent platform rendered stakes useless.

We found the picnic table (after spotting our first snake in the park - a gorgeous garter snake more than 2' long) in a little 2.5-3' deep hollow behind a shoulder of rock, protected from any wind. With more rain predicted for the morning we pitched the tarp overtop, then set up our stove on a rock wall that someone had constructed - possibly as a wind break.

Our breakfast nook.

Unfortunately it backed onto some swamp, which made it mosquito heaven even in the high afternoon. We didn't spend much time down there apart from cooking and eating - Tanker tried some more fishing in the cove at the back of the inlet, while I waded into the knee-deep water between our smooth stone "front yard" and a shoulder of rock in the middle of the inlet in front of the site. As I did so, I spotted something swimming through the water, and was delighted to discover it was a big, healthy-looking water snake!

Closest thing we saw to a Massasauga the whole time we were in the park.

I pursued it with the camera to the other side of the shoulder of rock, where it disappeared into a crack to escape my attentions. I went for a swim in the deeper water on the other side, then set off to down the trail past our bear vault (which we were pleased to find, as it's so much more convenient than hanging our barrel in a tree) toward the thunderbox. Having broken my own rule of always bringing the camera (due to lack of pockets), I missed an opportunity to get a shot of a partridge that went cooing and crashing through the underbrush ahead of me, then perched on top of a small rise right in front of me as I availed myself of the facilities.

Don't worry - there's no photo of that, either.

As the sun began to descend and the light turned golden, I made us a dinner of brown rice, spinach and tuna and what little wind there was died completely.

Looking across the inlet with a perfect view of the whale's back of rock in the inlet.

We again turned in before dark, around 9pm, then woke up at 3am to a clear sky studded with millions of bright stars and the brilliant light of Mars. We sat on the edge of the wooden tent platform and gaped at the stunning display, even catching a meteor's fiery streak as the Perseid shower had just begun. Back to bed when the mosquitoes drove us to seek refuge in the tent once more, we awoke again at first light to a loon hunting in the shallow water between our site and the whale's back.

Morning visitor.

While some cloud did start to build in, we were still treated to a beautiful sunset over the trees on the east side of our little inlet.

What a way to wake up.

Coffee and breakfast in the early morning sun, and some more encounters with the local wildlife - I spotted this enormous caterpillar making his way across the rock, covered in bright yellow knobs and looking like something from another planet.

He was at least 4" long and quite chubby!

As we ate our final batch of bacon, eggs and bagels we had a frog come hang out that Tank named JubJub - he seemed quite happy to sit with us while we slowly packed up our things from around him.

Please, help yourself to all the mosquitoes your little belly will hold.

Only having enough beans left with us for 1 pot of coffee that morning and 1 the next day, we were a little earlier getting on the water to begin our trip back east, leaving around 10:40am.

Tank boards the loaded canoe as I take one last deep breath on our private island.

Another overcast day kept us from overheating too much as we cruised with a following swell and more-or-less tailwind back toward the channel between Sharpe Island and enormous Moon Island.

Easy paddling.

Turning south toward the Captain Allen Strait, I had a little more difficult time keeping us on our bearing as the wind was off our 3/4 stern and the weight differential between Tanker and I makes the boat want to point upwind quite aggressively. My right shoulder took a bit of a beating with constant sweep strokes to keep us on course, but eventually we turned more easterly and then into the mouth of the strait. From there it was only a 5min downwind paddle to our site on the south side, for a total of almost exactly 8km on the day. We arrived almost exactly at noon, just as the sun started to come out!

The water came up right to the shoreline with a sandy bottom, at least a foot higher than in the campsite photos that show 6' of beach in front.

After the rugged nature of Islandscape, we hoped for something a bit more relaxed so we could get out of our water shoes and into our flip flops again. Fortunately, #403 Sandwich was one of the most accessible backcountry sites at which I've ever camped! We had a soft, obstacle-free ground cover; our choice of sandy tent pads; a bear vault right at hand; and even the thunderbox was near enough to be very handy without intruding into the site.

Super chill.

Being the day of our 15th anniversary, we set up our chairs by the firepit (which we cleaned of trash left by previous campers, because it was just making me angry) and had some celebratory drinks.

I don't often do so, but a cider on a hot day is a marvelous thing.

The only thing that spoiled the perfection of our site was the constant powerboat traffic through the narrow strait. Every few minutes another one would come by, with noone slowing down at all so we'd get huge wakes crashing against the shoreline. Still, it was a lovely place to just sit and enjoy the sun and shade.

A quiet moment.

I went for a dip in the strait (slightly giggly from my cider - I'm a cheap date!) and air-dried in the warm sun, then we actually took an afternoon nap just because we could. Fortunately, the shade of the trees kept the tent cool enough to be comfortable even at 4pm. When we awoke, we decided to check out the little trail through the trees to the east of our site. While it only went about 100 feet, it did give us a wonderful opportunity to check out the impressive rock wall that formed a backdrop to the shoreline.

Keep in mind this was at least 12' tall.

As evening drew in and we prepared to retire to the tent once more to escape the (much fewer) mosquitoes, the wind dropped again and the northwester sky came alive with colour.

What a treat!

While it had been quite warm overnight our first few days in the park, it dropped to 14c or less on Thursday night, leading us to awake to mist on the warm Bay water in the strait. As the sun crested the trees to the east, its light caught the mist on the surface and made it look as though the water had caught fire.

I trotted down to the eastern end of the little trail to get the best shot I could.

Having eaten the last of our fresh food the morning before (it was just Larabars and turkey pepperettes for lunch with a rehydrated dinner on Thursday), breakfast was a simple affair of oatmeal and 1 pot of coffee with the very last of our beans. 

Warming food for a chilly morning, even as the sun rose above the rock wall behind us to illuminate the site.

Having risen with the sun, even with taking our time about packing up camp we were still on the water before 10am for the final 5km paddle back to Pete's Place.

With a much emptier barrel.

Beautiful sunshine and almost unearthly calm surrounded us as we emerged from the strait into Woods Bay.

Hardly a puff of breeze.

We paddled leisurely toward the channel, taking in the gorgeous shoreline as we crossed into Blackstone Harbour.

Quite an impressive rock pile.

Arriving at our access point once more, we found the canoe launch incredibly busy, so we tied up at the dock by the trailer launch ramp to unload the boat.

Less than an hour of paddling later, even with lots of breaks to drink water and enjoy the scenery.

Map of our route - a big counter-clockwise loop.

We'd covered a bit less than 37km over the 5 days of the trip, I swam every day in the Bay, and we'd seen countless beautiful sights. Once the canoe was unloaded and the launch was less busy, I had the treat of taking her out for a little solo paddle from the dock to the ramp.

So peaceful.

Minutes later we had her tied on the roof of our car and had changed out of our sun shirts for the ride home. Even with stopping in the parking lot on our way out to devour some salami, mustard & cheez wraps (the elements of which stayed in a cooler bag in the car while we were out paddling) for lunch, we were still on the road home before noon!

Happy punks saying goodbye to the park.

I'm grateful for our good luck with the weather, and I'm so glad I got to introduce Tanker to a new part of Georgian Bay - it seems he loves it as much as I do, so while it may have been our first trip together through The Massasauga, I'm confident it won't be our last. There's so much more exploring to do!

FUN FACT: I'd later discover I was actually 7 weeks pregnant when we left for this trip. No wonder I needed that afternoon nap!