Even when it is fleeting, the first snowfalls of winter are always magical. Algonquin was kind enough to delight us with exactly that for this brisk weekend trek into the backcountry.
I can see the look of boisterous discontent in Julia's expression as she realizes that the foggy horizon in front of us is really swirling flurries across the highway. The forecast lied to us. It was supposed to be cool but sunny in Algonquin.
I point out that we are still an hour away from Algonquin in a veiled attempt to assuage her concern that the mild weekend camping trip she had decided to come on will turn out colder than expected. My assurance seems to work. In my heart, I know that it will take a miracle for the weather to be any different an hour further north, regardless of what the weather forecast is claiming.
I struggle to contain my glee. I love winter and snow. I usually am quite irritated by fall because once the trees shed their leaves, we are typically left with a rainy and muddy mess until later into December. Snow is a beautiful surprise that I thought was still at least a month away.
Upon arrival, we are immediately greeted by three overly friendly ducks who make a bee-line straight for us as soon as we park. Too many tourists have been feeding the wildlife because not only are the ducks not even remotely afraid of us, but they seem eager to get as close to the humans as possible.
Julia, Daniel, and I set out onto the Western Highlands backpacking trail in the early afternoon. The trail begins with several hundred meters of climbing, which I didn't expect. It is nice to get the heart pumping and stir up mountain hiking reminders. Unlike mountains, however, the climb morphs into a gradual up and down through Algonquin's hills.
The forest floor stretches in all directions, littered with a dense coating of brown fall foliage. Trees are a mix of rich green coniferous and barren deciduous skeletons. A forest ready for winter. We are lucky enough to experience the final moments before winter's engulf begins to embrace the landscape.
As we hike closer to our destination at Provoking Lake, the sky decides to treat us with the magic of soft snowfall floating through the trees all around us. The snow is mesmerizing, and I couldn't be happier. The weekend has already surpassed my expectations, and we have barely started.
I even have fun picking my way through the frequent muddy labyrinths along the trail. A pleasure that my companions don't seem to share. This trail isn't difficult, but it is a beautiful fuel for the soul.
After taking a wrong turn and "accidentally" adding a few extra kilometers to our journey, we arrive at the campsite in what seems to be the beginning of a winter wonderland.
I can tell that my companions are less than thrilled about having to camp in the snow. So can mother nature as she chooses this very moment to end the snowfall. I guess we won't have to set up our tents beneath snowfall after all.
The site is marvelous, Isolated right on the edge of a beautiful lake and nestled amongst the trees—a perfect place to spend the night.
The rest of the day is filled with reasonably typical camp activities which, as you may expect, entirely revolve around making a fire and filling our bellies—both of which we accomplish quite easily.
The most exciting part of the evening, other than the euphoric hot dogs, is when a friendly little deer mouse opts to visit us by the fire. Affectionately named Stella, this little critter has no fear of humans. Stella is so brazen that she is content to let Julia pet her fur. I briefly consider recording a video of it but shrug the idea aside in favor of cooking another hotdog. A man has priorities, after all.
After a fun evening around the campfire, we climb into our tents and drift off to sleep. As usual, I dance in and out of sleep, but I am insanely grateful for the hand-knit thick wool socks that my aunt made for me a while back, keeping my feet toasty.
The next morning is cold but beautiful. My bladder motivates me just enough to pull myself from the warmth of my sleeping bag into the morning air in time for sunrise. After a fabulous morning of tea and oatmeal, we are ready to hit the trail again, making our way back to the car, loving every breath of Algonquin beauty along the way.
