Chilling in Killarney - Part 2

If you missed Part 1, you can find it here.

But you can only find this if you're willing to work for it.

The Tunnel of Love - complete with its Web of Lies - survived the ridiculous wind, while some adjustments to our tent (zipping in the solid door on the open-vestibule side under the tarp and closing the windward-side top vent, then switching to the mesh door on the closed-vestibule side to get air circulation) and our awesome sleeping bags kept us lovely and cozy through the rather wild night.

When I rose (desperately needing to pee) around 7am, I was greeted with actual, honest-to-gawd SUNSHINE! The sun was just rising over the trees in front of our site, illuminating the brilliant trees on the far side of George Lake from our campsite.

You can see a couple of gusts of wind coming in across the lake, too.

The temperature had dropped significantly, and the persistent wind - still gusting up over 50kph - made the air feel significantly frosty. First priority was to get a fire going, which was quite easy

with the coals from the previous night and the wind to help ignite the wonderfully dry wood we'd been getting from the park office. 

A down jacket and some heavyweight wool long underoos meant the no-pants-before-coffee streak remained alive, too!

Though the gusting wind led me to put on some pants shortly thereafter.

We wanted to get breakfast done as soon as possible to get on the trail, but the wind and cold air conspired to rob our propane stove of all efficiency - the percolator took entirely too long to perk, the bacon only half-heartedly sizzled, and by the time I'd managed to get the eggs cooked for our breakfast sandwiches the rest of them (bagels, cheese, bacon) was cold and congealed.

Note that this is even with 2 large pieces of tinfoil acting as additional wind screens and heat reflectors, plus the stove turned with its back to the wind.

It took almost 2 hours and we'd finished a second pot of coffee before we were finally noshing by the fire, while the sun danced overhead in the gorgeous fall foliage.

Looking up from our campsite

It might be cold, but it was still a beautiful day.

By noon the dishes were finally done, the campsite was secured for the day, and we headed down Hwy 637 to the trailhead of our most ambitious day of hiking - I was taking Tanker out to get his first view of that fabled Killarney feature, The Crack!

He looks super enthused about the whole idea.

They do warn you it will be a little strenuous.

We set off at quarter to one along the old logging road that forms the day-use access to the La Cloche Silhouette Trail - an ~80km loop through the La Cloche mountains that is certainly one of the most challenging trails in Ontario. We'd only see a fraction of it today, though we had hiked a couple of kilometers of it the day before as part of the Cranberry Bog Trail. 

The logging road is smooth, wide and even - everything the La Cloche Silhouette Trail is not.

We had beautiful sunshine as we passed the junction on to the trail proper, though some clouds were blowing in intermittently. The surface became delightfully rooty, though the rain from the past few days kept things quite wet.

Love me some root well!

A few minutes later, you go down a rocky slope to a bridge over the narrows of Kakakise Lake.

Now things start to get interesting!

The Kakakise Wood Bridge

Gorgeous colour looking east from the bridge, with a glimpse of the quartzite La Cloche mountains

The narrows to the west

The north side of the narrows sees you start to climb very gently through some beautiful trail.

Up another root well

Past a beautiful stream filled with tiny waterfalls

Past the portage to Killarney Lake that I seriously NEVER want to do - straight up a shoulder of rock!

A bit further on, the trail veers back toward the shore of Kakakise Lake at the east end of the portage.

Coming into view - brilliant sunshine and lovely fall colour

Looking south back toward the bridge (which is hidden by the curve of the western shore)

You walk over a tiny wooden bridge over a beautiful little stream

The lake side

Bubbling down through the forest

Then you reach the start of the real technical trail up to The Crack. Because of the time we arrived, we ended up waiting a few minutes while quite a steady stream of other hikers descended the first rocky climb.

Full-size human for scale

With the way now clear, Tanker begins his ascent

Above the rocky climb, root well lovers like me hit the motherload!

Tanker for scale - I haven't seen anything this impressive since the Grandfather Tree in Cochrane last year!

The climbing continues up another rocky section beyond the root well

It was around here that we ended up playing airborne caterpillar with another couple who were headed for The Crack - a fellow who looked like he could've been David Wilcox's twin brother and his wife, who had never done the trail before. He was not in his first youth, but gamely climbed up the roots and rocks, pausing every so often to have a rest. Knowing how much more difficult the trail would get, I was actually pretty happy to stay in their vicinity; we were sometimes ahead and sometimes behind, taking our time and tons of photos, but never out of earshot in case an issue should arise.

He kept asking if that was the last of the climbing.
I hated to break it to him, but there was a long way yet to go.

Tanker leading the charge up another rocky climb - sometimes switchbacking was the best option.

Giant cairn on a plateau between two technical ascents.

More root well action!

As we climbed through the forest and the sun rode high above, we started to warm up significantly - both of us ditched our wind jackets and made sure to drink frequently from the large stash of water (4.5L) we'd brought along.

Tank adjusting his layering.

The quartzite is becoming much more evident as we climbed higher.

Soon we reached the crest of a ridge in blinding sun.

It lent a surreal quality to the landscape.

Tanker forging ahead, looking for route markers.

Incredible view over the colour-filled valley below.

Feeling quite warm up on the plain of smooth rock.

As we made our way further upward, the 2.1 billion year old quartzite of the La Cloche mountains surrounded us in its curiously snowy white beauty, interspersed with brilliant hits of colour from the sugar maples in full flame.

Almost otherworldly

We had to be quite careful of our footing, as the worn rock offered very little in the way of texture for our boots or trekking poles to grip. I was very grateful we'd been granted a break in the wet weather to make this journey, as at times you were nearly scrambling up a channel in the stone.

As seen here

While our new friends figured we must be getting close, I had to point out that we were still well below The Crack and would have some quite strenuous climbing to do once we reached it. I tried to point out the actual geological feature, though an evergreen tree blocked a proper view.

Keep on truckin'

That's not to say there was no joy along our path - from the ridge we were on we could look southwest all the way to Georgian Bay.

Past a million trees all putting on an incredible autumn show 

We soon came to a wet little cleft filled with broken rock; the water flowing down from the peak of the mountain through a tiny stream.

The trail is mostly marked with the red and blue arrows seen here, though there are posts with reflective markers on some more exposed sections.

A short hike up from that brings you to the base of The Crack itself, where we waited for a few other people to make their way down while we stowed our trekking poles in my day pack.

Full size human for scale - these tumbled rocks are enormous!

Unfortunately this is where we ended up bidding our new companions farewell - while the older gentleman did make an effort to start to climb the jumbled pile of stone with hands and feet, he soon realized (in his own words) "I could maybe do it, but it would be the end of me...and I'd still have to get back down". He was sorely disappointed to come so close without reaching the top, but discretion is the better part of valor and I tried to console him by saying he'd made it further than 99% of people ever would.

At least he got to see the incredible grandeur of some vigorous geography, like that 10' tall boulder balancing up there just right of centre.

With the way now clear and our friends descending below, we started to make our way up through the jagged, unforgiving pile.

I'm very happy I've spent time moving on rock this year to prepare me for this.

As you rise through the broken stone - the result of The Crack opening over millenia and dumping the jagged pieces that dislodge with its movement - you pass through a gap between huge walls rising nearly as high as the few trees that cling to the mountain.

Tanker for scale once more

Reaching the top of the first section, the view behind you through those stalwart pillars is breathtaking.

Views for days.

However, you're still not through! The Crack proper is a narrow (perhaps 7' wide, though it continues to widen every year by a fraction of a millimeter) passageway between two walls of rock that tower above you.

The final ascent.

What we found fascinating was that one of the walls was incredibly cold, while the other felt warm to the touch...despite the sun not seeming to reach down into the cleft. I have no idea how to explain the phenomenon, but it was interesting.

All thoughts of geology fall away once you emerge on top of the ridge above The Crack, though - the view is simply mindblowing.

Especially if you happen to time it at peak fall colour! 

A closer look over Killarney Lake and O.S.A. Lake below a peak of the La Cloche mountain range.

So happy to share this with my sweetheart!
You can see the data from my Garmin here.

Here we sat and gaped, then pulled out the enormous sandwiches I'd made us back at our campsite so we could have a hearty picnic lunch. We tried to eat fairly quickly, though, as we could see a rain cloud blowing in toward us on the still-powerful wind - the last thing I wanted was to have it come down on us while we were exposed, or to have to deal with the technical descents made slick with precipitation. Downclimbing is by its nature more difficult and treacherous than ascending, so we didn't want to dawdle.

Time to go. 

Pausing to breathe in the incredible views once more, we set off back the way we came in sunshine.

Lone pine atop the broken quartzite.

We made it down past the giant cairn - and the most technical portions of the trail - before the cloudbank arrived and dumped a bit of rain and then a load of small hail on us! Fortunately the wind carried it away quickly, though, so the trail didn't get too slippery as we descended back through the shoulders of rock and giant root wells.

Soon enough we were strolling past Kakakise Lake once more, then passing off the La Cloche Silhouette Trail entirely and onto the logging road to the parking lot.

Fork in the trail - 6km to George Lake one way, or 2km to the parking lot the other.

Off the trail just before 5pm, we made it back to our site with plenty of daylight left. The sun even came out again as I lit a fire against the chill, though it wasn't the end of the precipitation - it actually started to sleet through the sunshine!

It certainly looked beautiful, though.

Almost a real sunset - we never really got a good one any of the 4 nights we spent in the park.

As darkness descended and the sun's warmth evaporated, I got dinner on the go to insulate us against the chill after the afternoon's exertions.

Wind screens/heat shields in full effect once more, though the gusts did finally start to ease a bit.

While mac & cheez (with bacon & broccoli) would form the main event for the evening, I had planned us a special encore for our toughest day of hiking and coldest night of the trip.

Dessert cooking in the cast iron Dutch oven, the coals on the lid glowing red in the wind

I may have added a bit too much liquid to the topping - turning our cherry cobbler into more of a non-inverted upside down cake - and the top might have got a wee bit overdone, but sitting by the fire and eating those sweet, scorching hot boats of deliciousness was the perfect end to an incredible day!

And cooking them in tinfoil meant the only dishes to clean were our spoons, which we happily licked until no cherry goodness remained.

The sky had cleared to a spectacular display of stars for the first time - and final night - of our stay, which also meant the temperature got positively frosty and stayed there.

At least the wind dropped at last, so it wasn't any worse.

Having experienced the inefficiency of cooking with propane in the cold, I left the stove entirely to Tanker for coffee making - breakfast would be courtesy of our morning campfire, which I lit as soon as I rose.

Grill down and bagels toasting for a quick bite with our first cup of coffee.

It may have been cold, but my no-pants-before-coffee streak remained alive for the whole trip! 

Toasting more than just a couple of slices of bread by the fire!

The idea had been to make scrambled eggs with some mushrooms, onion & steak spice I had left over from other meals, then serve it all with toast and smoked back bacon. Instead, I chopped up the bacon with the other ingredients and dumped it all in the Dutch oven, cracking the eggs over the whole business for a breakfast casserole.

The strawberry jam was used for a couple of the slices of toast.

Fire: the original camp stove.

Pulling it all out of the coals 20mins later, I served up slices on top of mayonnaise-slathered toast. For an experiment, it was fantastic! I may have to make this a regular drive-in camping meal, especially for cold weather; we actually got to enjoy it all while it was hot!

Solid fuel for a cold morning.

Finishing off my second cup of coffee in my beloved Honcho Poncho

Tanker enjoying his coffee and breakfast by the fire

With breakfast done before 11am and dishes waiting until we got home, it was less than two hours to de-construct the Web of Lies and Tunnel of Love that had kept us cozy (despite the dubious condition of our tent) for the last 4 nights. Packing everything into the car and inspecting our site to ensure we weren't leaving anything behind, we paused to drink in the view of George Lake from behind our site one last time.

At least we got to break everything down dry!

Then it was time to get on the road, as there was already a fellow in an RV waiting to take over our campsite! We wished him well and began the long drive home, exhausted but thoroughly pleased with out stay in the park.

We may have had crap weather, but we also had a ton of fun!

Next time we'll have to bring the canoe to head into the backcountry - there's so much more of Killarney that I want to share with my sweetheart!