Heading out - Back to Canisbay Lake
It was just before 8:30am that we finally got up and out of the tent. It was a grey, dark looking morning with a fog that hung over the hilltops. Joan set about the task of making breakfast, as I went about packing up the sleeping pads & bags, along with the tent. We had no fire that morning, as it was still quite warm out and there was very little wood left over. Save it for the next group I thought. There was a lot of wood scattered about the campsite and surrounding forest, which made scavenging for firewood relatively easy anyway.
Around 9:30am we were all packed up, the tarp was the last thing to come down and be packed away. I went down to the water's edge and untied my canoe and flipped it over, perching it on the rock, ready for loading. I grabbed the food barrel from camp and set it down next to the canoe for loading and headed back to the campsite to grab the large pack, passing Joan on the way who came down to the canoe.
While standing around and resting a moment before grabbing the pack, Joan came back to the fire-pit area and as I picked up my pack, she exclaimed, "Look! Our canoe!". I looked down to the water and spotted our canoe silently floating in the water about 10m offshore. I was alarmed by this and rushed down to the rocks at the water's edge and began undressing. Joan insisting that it looked like the canoe was going to be blown back into shore. I wasn't going to wait around to find out. I finished stripping and dove naked into the water, easily swimming to the canoe in a matter of seconds.
I'm glad it was August for if it was May, we'd certainly be in trouble; I'd be telling Joan to get a fire started before I jumped into the water, if that were to happen! I swam back with one arm hung over the canoe gunnel and arrived at shore. Joan was all laughs, gleefully snapping pictures of me at my misfortune.
It certainly was funny in a way, 'cause it had all worked out fine. I dried off and got dressed again, this time the canoe planted firmly on solid rock. It seems that Joan had disturbed the canoe, as she tied her fanny-pack to the decking of the canoe. It gave a creak as she did so, thinking nothing of this, she finished tying her pack and walked to camp. That 'creak' was enough to send the canoe free-floating into the water. Tying my canoe down the night before had achieved nothing! It had been defeated by the slightest touch while free-standing on a rock. Oh how easy it can be to mess up your day in The Park.
By 10:05am we were all loaded and set off across Linda Lake, the sky looking very dark and ominous. Despite the gloomy weather, the paddle was an enjoyable one, the water was like glass and there was no one else on the lake. By 10:20am we had arrived at the take-out for the 930m carry into Polly Lake. It was during this carry-over that along with moose hoof prints in the mud, I spied human footprints. I must admit being surprised by this, yet I understood the desire, if not the logic.
Algonquin Park's interior might be considered the perfect place to practise barefoot travel; there is no glass or tin on the portages (That I have not seen) and for the most part all one has to contend with is rock, roots, wood, grasses, water and muck. Each of these even in combination is easily handled by the human foot. I speculate that maybe shoeless shoes were used, as this product seems to be a bit of a fashion rage right now among runners in our society. They certainly look ideal for one that might want to try barefoot travel, offering something extra; a degree of protection for one's skin. An intriguing prospect.
By 10:50am we were paddling Polly Lake. The sky still remained overcast, the lake still. The silence was interrupted by the "tremolo" call of a lone loon on the lake. The loon was upset by our presence in its waters and was making its feelings known to us. A few minutes later we landed at the campsite we had stayed at four nights earlier. I had accidentally left behind my thermometer and wanted to retrieve it.
Unfortunately, my thermometer was gone. I looked around the vicinity of the tree branch that it had been hanging on and could not find it. Looking at the fire-pit, my suspicion was confirmed; the fire-pit was filled with trash. Hotdog wrappers and many foil ketchup packets lay strewn in the fire-pit, along with a few other items of trash. I was rather annoyed by this. Someone had picked up my thermometer, which is a useful, tiny, lightweight gadget. The trash would've packed up just as lightweight as my gadget. So why leave it behind? Obviously, some people think that a fire-pit is a garbage can, which I might add, it is not. It is fine to burn burnable garbage, but not to leave un-burned burnable garbage in, that just attracts rodents and animals. It is both unfair to the animals and might even possibly add an element of danger to the next visiting group of people.
We resumed our paddle to the take-out at the lake's South end. By 11:10am we arrived and carried our gear up the semi-steep incline to a more level patch of ground from which to launch our carry-over. There was the odour of dead fish near where I had set my canoe down and looking around I found some fish skin and wondered; Was this the result of an animal feeding or a human fishing? Perhaps a human fishing and then an animal scavenging on the remains? I gathered up my camera bag, the canoe pack and then the canoe, placing it carefully onto my sore shoulders.
Joan & I both walked the trail for about 25 minutes when I couldn't stand the pain in my back and shoulders any longer and had to stop for a break. We had some gorp, trail-mix bars and water, then loaded up and continued our trek down the smooth trail. By this time it had begun to rain, the overhead canopy (and the fact I had a canoe on my head) did much to prevent me from getting soaked.
Joan didn't fare as well and by 12:10pm we arrived at a point where the portage split off the bike trail and headed down to Canisbay Lake. I took the opportunity to plant my canoe down on a boardwalk crossing a creek and take another break from the pain. I took a few pictures and then resumed my carry in the rain down the trail to the lake. As before, the trail was quite the obstacle course, with rocks, roots, muck and now, many puddles. The trail itself had turned into a stream with the recent heavy rains and it made the descent to the lake a slippery affair.
By the time we arrived at the lake and put-in at 12:30pm, the rain had stopped and we launched onto a glass-like lake. We saw a variety of canoes on the lake, two coming towards us, heading for the portage and another group camped at a campsite, who were chopping trees by the sound of it.
Another group on the East shoreline was heading back to the highway and then we spied an empty campsite on the West shoreline (as we paddled down it) with perhaps five or six coolers on shore, one with a lid removed and appeared to be empty. I thought perhaps a group had several trips to make, with all the extra gear. Still, it seemed odd to leave all that stuff unattended, hopefully the group returned for their coolers.
The paddle down the lake was otherwise uneventful, mother nature was very kind to us; the rain had not returned, the winds were near calm and even the sun made a few brief appearances. By 1:00pm we had landed at the take-out, the trip was over.
Loading up we were on the road by 1:30pm, traffic was heavy both coming into and leaving The Park. As a matter of fact it took five and a half hours to get home. The worst drive I have ever had. It should've taken only three and a half hours. We encountered heavy rains through-out the drive home, that coupled with typical summer volumes, made the drive very slow and crowded.
Truly a pretty area to travel, especially with the portage along the bike trail, it is a nice forest path to traverse, it is worth the visit. Keep in mind though, one can hear highway#60 traffic occasionally on both Polly & Linda Lakes, so if you are searching for true solitude, you might not find it on those particular lakes.
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