Chefprefers BLOG

There are two types of people who go camping in Algonquin Park. The first type enjoys nature, fresh air and the peaceful sound of birds singing in the trees. The second type is us, who enjoys carrying an unreasonable amount of equipment through the wilderness while pretending it is a relaxing holiday.

So, naturally, we decided to spend five days camping and canoeing through Algonquin Park, about 400 kilometres northeast of Toronto. The park contains more than a thousand lakes and enough portages to make you question whether you actually came here to canoe or had accidentally signed up for a wilderness-themed fitness program.

I have been on about half a dozen Algonquin adventures during my 35 years of marriage to my Canadian wife. She says she has been ten times. I am not saying she is exaggerating, but when it comes to camping experience, I have learned that the safest approach is simply to nod respectfully.

This time, we organised everything through Algonquin Outfitters, where you can hire almost everything you need for the trip, including the canoe, camping equipment and food. My youngest son had previously taken a gap year and worked at the AO store, so we already knew the place and, more importantly, knew exactly who to ask when we had no idea what we were doing.

We would arrive at the store and find our equipment and food laid out on a table, ready to be packed. The assistant, who knew my son, was particularly helpful. Probably because she knew my son. Or perhaps because she could see the look in our eyes and realised we were about to drag an entire household into the wilderness.

Our plan was simple: five lakes in five days.

The park permits included the campsite fees, although getting a campsite during the busy summer months requires a little planning. You need to know your route, your dates and your intended campsites. In other words, you need a proper itinerary. This is not the sort of trip where you can simply turn up and say, “We’ll see what happens.”

What happens is that you end up sleeping in your canoe.

The campsites themselves are wonderfully basic. You get a fire pit, a patch of reasonably flat ground for your tent and a Thunder Box, which is a polite Canadian term for the toilet. And that is about it.

Everything else is your problem.

You need tents, tarps, sleeping bags, sleeping mats, cooking utensils, pots, pans, plates, cleaning equipment, toilet paper, clothes, dry bags, backpacks, paddles, food and the canoe.

And bug spray.

Lots of bug spray.

Especially the bug spray.

The list goes on and on. The trick is deciding how much you can carry without turning yourself into a human pack mule. This becomes particularly important when you reach a portage and discover that the canoe, the food, the camping gear and your personal belongings all need to be carried over land bridge.

In the past, we tried to complete the portages in one trip.

This time, we went on what I like to call the Old People’s Tour.

Two trips.

One for the equipment and one for our dignity.

The reward, however, is the scenery. We came across a loon with her chick, a mother merganser with her chicks and plenty of deer droppings. We saw no bears and no moose, which was probably for the best. I had no desire to discover whether I could outrun a bear while carrying a canoe.

Most of the time, it was just quietness, a little rain and some wind. The lakes were calm, the forests stretched endlessly around us and the scenery was beautiful.

Although, after a while, I began to notice something.

Trees.

Water.

More trees.

More water.

After several days, I started to wonder whether Algonquin Park had been created by someone copying and pasteing Trees, trees and more trees

It was exactly what I had expected, really. Which is probably the point of Algonquin Park. You go there to escape the noise, the traffic and the constant demands of modern life.

And, after five days, you begin to appreciate the simple things.

Like a chair.

And a shower.

And a toilet that does not have a wooden box around it.

On our previous trips, we had travelled as part of a group. This time, it was just my wife and me. We paddled the waterways at our own pace, with no one leading the way, no one waiting for us and no expectations.

Just the two of us, the canoe, the lakes and the occasional reminder that we had packed far too much equipment.

Despite the portages, the rain, the bugs and the fact that everything we owned had to be carried from one lake to another, there was something wonderful about being completely on our own.

No traffic.

No crowds.

No phones.

Just the sound of the paddle dipping into the water and the quietness of the forest.

And if you have read this far, I have also written a story about one of our Algonquin adventures involving an encounter with a Nanabozho. It is called The Forest Talks.

There is also here a link to Jen’s Facebook posts.