TOURduPARK
The Barron River as seen from the top of the canyon
My final task was to filter water into my nalgene before heading out. I attached the nalgene and began to pump. Something wasn’t right; I was getting a whole bunch of air bubbles in the hose, and in turn, in the filter. I removed the end in the water, inspected it and tossed it back. Still happening. I examined the hose, finding the cause of the bubbles. That same little rodent that chewed up my bowl and cup has his way with the silicon hose on my water filter. “You. Little. Bastard!” Again, my fault, but now I was pissed at him too – did it have to ruin EVERYTHING I left out? Couldn’t it have just destroyed one thing really bad, instead of three things? With the holes in the tube, it was filtering water at an incredibly slow rate. I managed to semi-block the holes allowing for faster filtration, but it still took a while. With the fire yesterday, the black flies last night and today, and the damage to my gear – I was about ready to leave The Park.
The Barron River slices a deep path through this section of Algonquin
tr 17: Barron canyon - greenleaf lake
Another cloudless day in Algonquin Park - that makes 7 of 8! What a great trip!
It was around 9:20 a.m. I got out of the canoe, sort of happy that it was over – but not regretting a single moment of it – for this had been one of the best trips I have gone on to date, and in a very interesting area of The Park. I grabbed the car, pulled it up to the beach and began the load-up process. There were many other groups starting their respective trips, and I was sort of jealous, but also happy. It didn’t take long to load up and I began the drive down the Barron Canyon Road. I figured, since I was in the area, and it was still so early, I might as well walk the Barron Canyon Hiking trail – it’s not very long. I pulled into the parking lot and started up the trail. It was less than ten minutes before I arrived at the edge of the cliff.
Looking down, I was reflecting on six days ago when I had paddled down and back up this canyon. It was an amazing view from up here. As I continued along the trail, I could see the outcrop depicted in Kevin Callan’s A Paddler’s Guide to Algonquin Park. I finished the loop and signed the logbook at the end of the trail. I returned to the car and continued down the road.
The Kevin Callan rock outcrop
By 6:35 a.m. I was on the water and paddling across to Clemow Lake. I was at the portage to Grand Lake at 6:55 a.m. and launching onto Grand Lake at 7:15 a.m. I stopped quickly at the first campsite there to check for runs as indicated on the map. I only found very large railway spikes/pegs, and a really old picnic table – nothing else. I spent no more than 15 or 20 minutes there and I was back on the water. I debated heading over to the McLaughlin Depot Farm to check it out, but decided against it because it just looked so far away. Now that I look back, I regret not going over there. I had plenty of time, it was very early in the morning, and I did not have anywhere to be that day or night. I don’t know why I felt it was time to leave The Park – I can never have enough, but perhaps I had enough.
I made it to the railway bridge that divides the lake at 8:10 a.m. Then I was on the expansive Grand Lake. It looked like it went on for a long, long time. I decided to keep to the eastern shore, since that’s where the access point was, but at times the bays went so far in I just decided to paddle straight down the lake. I didn’t stop to rest much, perhaps to take the occasional photo. There was a slight tail wind, so it was nice to have a little help down the lake. It was around 9 a.m. when I came to the last kilometre of the paddle, the wind suddenly picked up huge and was now a crosswind instead of a tailwind. The wind was pushing me towards shore, but the waves it was generating were the biggest I had paddled in to date and I fought hard to keep the canoe in line. A few waves crashed over the sides and I was quickly becoming very wet. I thought, “What a way to end the trip, I’m going to flip over and I can see the car.” There were families on the beach, and they were all watching me, as if waiting for the moment I finally flipped – the waves were that bad. I managed to keep everything in check and came around the last corner. I could see the rocky outcrop and the gravel beach I was going to land on. It was only a few hundred metres more, if that – I was almost there. A minute or two later, I landed at the beach and the paddling was over.
Looking down the first half of Grand Lake
Clemow Lake to Grand Lake / Achray
Day 8: Clemow Lake to Grand Lake / Achray
At 5:30 a.m., it woke me up again and it was already light outside. I got out of the tent and figured I would get a really early start on the day. The black flies were still out in force, but not as bad as last night. I began the process of breaking camp, all while being occasionally bit by these little buggers. It eventually began to frustrate and annoy me – I didn’t know they were around so early in the morning. I walked over to the stone chair and table and noticed in my rush to get in the tent last night I had left my collapsible bowl and mug, as well as water filter on the stone table. They were all clean, but obviously I usually hang that kind of stuff. With my bag mostly packed, I decided to make my last breakfast – typical oatmeal and coffee. I poured the water for coffee into the mix already in the cup – and it starts squirting out from four holes all around the edges of the cup at the fold line where it collapses. I was a little ticked off and thought, “What a piece of crap!” This cup seemed to have only lasted me four or five trips – so what could that equal, 30 or 40 collapses? And now it was worn through and leaking. I poured what was left of my coffee into the empty bowl to try to salvage it – I had a long paddle ahead and I did not want to do it without a coffee. Well lo and behold – the bowl’s creases were leaking too! What the hell is going on here? Both failing at the same time? No, that’s just too coincidental and unlikely. After I quickly gulped all the coffee before it leaked everywhere I took a closer look at the holes in the bowl and cup – it wasn’t wear and tear at all! Some rodent had chewed through the silicon! Bastard! I was a little pissed off at this, because as I said, they were reasonably new and not cheap (for what they are) but then again – how can I blame the rodent? I neglected to put it away. Perhaps it was better it was a rodent and not something larger. I managed to still use the bowl, on a strange angle, to have my oatmeal and finished packing up. I got everything loaded up and into the canoe by 6:15 a.m. This would be the earliest I’ve ever left camp – which is still not that early by some standards. One day I would like to be on the water at 5 or 5:30 in the morning, but that takes real dedication.
Morning sun beaming on Clemow Lake
When I arrived at Sand Lake Gate, I decided to pull over to have a chat with the girl who recommended I take the hydro field instead of the portage from Greenleaf to Grand Lake. I walked in and was greeted by a very friendly girl there, not the same one I had seen when I obtained my permit. I told her what I was told, then asked if they were giving everyone this advice – she wasn’t sure, but she said she had not given this advice any trippers herself. A ranger in a nearby office overheard us chatting and came out to join the conversation. He told me they were recommending people follow the hydro field instead of the portage due to the condition of the portage. I politely asked him if he had ever personally walked or followed that hydro field. He said he hadn’t. I stressed to them that it’s probably not a good idea sending people that way, as there is no real trail to follow and it’s simply a field of massive boulders, giant gaps and unfriendly terrain. They said they were telling people this because the last group that went through there said it would just be easier to follow the field versus taking the portage. I think perhaps they took it out of context because it’s just not possible. Well – sorry, that’s not true, it’s not impossible – but you’d have to be insane to want to do that versus the portage – it would take many, many hours I am sure. We chatted a bit more, the ranger was telling me that with all the severe winter storms this year, they were having difficulties clearing 200 m portages, let alone 5600 m ones. He then asked me if I was doing any fishing out there – I am not sure where he was going with that, but I answered, “Yes,” and told them the story on Greenleaf – how I caught a Laker within minutes, but then threw him back because I figured I’d easily get another. They both laughed when I said it was mashed potatoes and bannock for dinner that night. I said goodbye and was on my way. I bet if I didn’t share that story, the next question out of the rangers mouth would have been asking to see my license. He wasn’t being rude, but he seemed to be really defensive of my comments about the condition of the portage and the advice they were giving – but the entire time I was completely reasonable, not rude, nor angered about it – I was simply relaying information and giving advice. Nevertheless, that was my first experience meeting and speaking with a ranger and I still consider it to be a pleasant one. However, this wouldn’t be the last encounter I had with rangers on this trip. I got back in the car and continued down the Barron Canyon Road.
After about an hour and a half of driving, I was approaching The Park border at the east gate. Normally I would have just gone down Highway 28 and so on, but I had to drop off my canoe at Swift Canoe & Kayak in Gravenhurst because I was having skid plates installed. As I approached the gate, I noticed a lot of police vehicles and pylons along the road. Uh-oh, I thought a bad car accident must have occurred due to the amount of police presence and the traffic volume backed up. As I got closer and closer to the gate, I noticed a lot of MNR vehicles around as well. This would be unusual for a car accident scene. As I approached even closer, I noticed they were standing on the road, stopping each passing vehicle for 30-45 seconds. I began to wonder what was up. It almost resembled a R.I.D.E. check often seen during the holidays – but this early in the day? Were they looking for someone? It all seemed very strange to me. Finally, it was my turn and I pulled up to the ranger. He stuck his head right in the car, while saying, “Okay, no alcohol and seat belt on, good!” Then he asked where I was coming from after seeing my gear in the back seat. I said, “Algonquin! Achray specifically” And we began to have a quick and friendly conversation about my trip. Then he asked the golden question: “Did you do any fishing while you were out there?” I replied that I had been fishing, but not catching. He then instructed me to pull over to the side of the road for further inspection – but still super friendly about it. Perhaps this is why the ranger at the Sand Lake Gate asked me – there must be some kind of blitz going on across The Park – it all makes sense now!
I pulled over and a different MNR officer came over to chat with me. We were chatting for a bit, about where I was and what I was catching. He asked to see my license and ID, which I told him, was in my backpack so I’d have to get out of the car to get it – which he was fine with. I grabbed my backpack and he asked to see in the trunk – I gladly opened it. He asked if I brought a cooler and I simply said, “I did a 6400 m portage yesterday.” He then replied, “So no cooler.” After looking at my license and ID, he returned it. I asked him if I could ask him a few questions about fishing regulations within The Park (explaining I was a newbie to fishing) and he gladly took the time to answer. Among the questions, I asked him about live bait, and why it was illegal to use in The Park. I explained that I’m not a complete idiot, and I know why some of these rule exist (to prevent a species that doesn’t belong in a lake from getting off the hook and invading). So my actual question was: “Why can’t I catch a live minnow from whatever lake I am on, and use it on that same lake only?” He told me I could get that same minnow, kill it, and legally use it. So I asked why all the red tape, something doesn’t make sense here? He clearly explained in a single sentence: “When I come up to a fisherman and he’s using live bait – he can say he got it from that same lake, but how do I really know that?” “Excellent point,” I said. I never thought of it from the enforcement angle before. “But if the fish is dead, it doesn’t really matter what lake it came from because it won’t invade if it gets off the hook,” he continued. It made complete sense to me. We chatted a bit more, then he looked like he was needed elsewhere so I thanked him for his help in answering my dumb questions and we were both on our way – I did manage to get one last question in before he left. “Can I expect this at the West Gate too?” “No, just here today,” he shouted back. I made the always beautiful drive along the Highway 60 corridor and left the boundary of The Park once again. I debated stopping at Ragged Falls to see the spring runoff, but decided against it – I have been there so many times before I’d rather go again when I have someone else with me. I eventually made it to Swift Canoe & Kayak on Highway 11 in Gravenhurst, dropped off my boat and continued home. It was an excellent trip, and I’d be happy to visit that part of The Park anytime – especially my new favourite lake – Greenleaf Lake.
Looking down the second half of Grand Lake