The COVID camping restrictions have been lifted to the collective sigh of relief rippling across nature lovers abound. For my first trek back into the real world, I chose the waters of McNally Bay in Frontenac. A fairly easy jaunt as jaunts go but this particular weekend made a point of keeping it exciting.
Frontenac certainly isn't new territory to me. It is a park in Ontario that I have loved for several years now. To date, however, I haven't explored the northern sections of the park and thus McNally Bay feels like a fresh direction in a familiar region.
Matt and I push off around lunch to the loving embrace of a beautiful day! We had glanced at the forecast and noticed that there was a chance of rain but figured even if it drizzled a bit that it would be no big deal. Confidently we begin our paddle to the first portage.
The McNally bay route is a tad odd in that it throws two longish portages at you right out of the gate. The first paddle is all of 200m leading to about a 1000m moderate portage through somewhat rough terrain but nothing bad.
I moronically assume that the path will be leisurely so leave my paddling shoes on. Paddling shoes that have no soles or support. The nice soft dirt trail quickly turns to a mess of rocks and roots making every footfall painful. Like a fool, I decided to just tough it out and walk the whole way in my paddling slippers.
After an eternity of picking my way through agony we arrive at Little Salmon Lake and push off. In what seems like all of three paddle strokes we can see the next portage. Yup, that right, it is also only about 200m away. This trip is starting to feel like we shouldn't have even brought a boat along.
We decide to dawdle a bit on the Lake enjoying the sun and giving Matt some time to toss a hook in the water. A decision that is pretty short-livedm, the ominous rumble of an approaching thunderstorm reverberates from the horizon. A few minutes later a light rain finds its way to park followed by distant cracks of lightning that quickly transform thundering right above our heads.
We aren't terribly enthusiastic about being in the middle of a lake during a thunderstorm so make for the portage. Upon landing, we hastily prepare to start walking. I pause to pull on a pair of real shoes this time around.
The portage begins with a wretchedly steep trail that is sharp and slippery only made worse by the driving rain. Pushing forward we just tough our way forward and slog through a rocky forest that seems to have no concept of flat. This portage is certainly a punishing one.
About halfway through the portage, the rain begins to wane, which naturally leads to a wretched explosion of mosquito activity. I find myself missing the heavy rain that was protecting us from a torrent of blood-sucking devils.
After a 1.2km gauntlet of hellish onslaught, we emerge to the beauty of Birch Lake and the welcome return of the sunny day. Relief abound, portaging for the day is over! This section of the trip turns out to be more or less uneventful beyond being a nice paddle across beautiful water and into the channel that connects it to Kingsford Lake.
Kingsford Lake is also a rather nice paddle, though we are flanked on either side by looming dark clouds. Our paddling becomes somewhat more urgent as we rush across the lake into McNally Bay so that we can pitch a tarp before the storm hits again.
In a brilliant stroke of luck, both mighty storm clouds zip by us without ever actually crashing into the lake or our site. We are greeted with a beautiful evening of camping. The only sour moment is when I realize that one of my dry bags wasn't quite as waterproof as I had thought. The contents of this dry bag happened to me all my clothes and sleeping bag! Bloody hell!
Fortunately, I leverage the brilliance of a sleeping bag roasting system to transform my soaked bag into a cozy warm bed for the evening. The only minor annoyance is that the bag will probably smell like smoke for a while. I don't care, I am tired and warm. I drift off towards sleep.
After a lazy morning, we push off into McNally Bay. The return trip is more or less uneventful. The day is bright and warm from first paddle stroke to last. What a wonderful weekend. The perfect mix of tumultuous adventure and relaxing bliss.
