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Pages: Okay here it is: The Latest Camping Story. [1]
Author Topic: Okay here it is: The Latest Camping Story.

Posts: 9

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2011-02-05 14-07-55

Okay here it is: The Latest Camping Story. This really should be a confession. I confess I've put-off writing about this, because on this trip, K & I put our Northern Grrl roots to shame. We planned a night canoe trip. It was our very first trip with just the of us, but FAR from our first trip ever. We grew up with camping. That's the reason Canadians aren't allowed on survivor - we camp. Oh, how I planned this trip. I researched the area meticulously. I downloaded maps and converted them to .pdf documents, and drew our route right over the map. Being a hypoglycemic, I had a crazy meal plan, and I brought extra days worth of food in case we got wind or weather bound. We did absolutely everything we could to ensure the trip would be successful. We left Toronto on Saturday and took the scenic route through Algonquin park, arriving at my parents' place in Pembroke in the evening. We had Sunday to rest, and Monday we would leave for the Wild. So says our agenda. Unfortunately, Sunday night, K came down with a touch of the flu, and on Monday morning she was still nauseous. Determined to go anyway, she sent me out to the drug store for stomach meds and ginger ale. hours later, she was feeling better - 48803! We loaded up the car (a snazzy Toyota Matrix), did a final check of our list. Just as we were ready to get in the car and leave we noticed: The Matrix has a flat. Crap.
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Posts: 19

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2011-02-13 1-41-37-

Take Two. No canoe trip Monday. Monday was spent on the phone to the insurance company, the tow truck, and Canadian Tire to get the tire repaired. The culprit? A screw right dead centre in the tire. What are the chances of rolling over a screw on a 5 minute run to the drug store? Sigh. So we revised our trip. Instead of moving every night, we'd just paddle in, portage to the next lake and camp for three nights. We could still hang out in the wilderness and have a grand old time. So Tuesday we set out! There were no problems with our canoe rental and the weather Goddess was smiling on us. Beautiful, hot, sunny, all day. It took K & I about a half hour to load the canoe. We had a LOT of shit. I'd say we must have packed over 100 lbs of gear. (Stop laughing.) On our canoe trip with Wild Women to Temagami last summer, K & I learned that we are not the most efficient paddling team. We thought that K might be better off in the stern, since I have a kick-ass power stroke and the stern requires more technique than strength. So off we launched, with K in the stern for the first time ever in her life. We launched straight out and sailed straight into the bank on the opposite shore. We backed up, turned, and sailed straight into launch side again. The third attempt, we managed to angle more upstream before we hit the shore again. And so it was, we zig-zagged all the way up stream until we entered the lake, where we switched places and put me in the stern. It was so very beautiful. We paddled for hours, keeping out eyes out for the great God's Head Rock so we could search for pictographs. We couldn't find it. We noticed cyclists on the opposite shore. Huh. I hadn't seen a cycle path on the map. Finally, hot, tired and ready for lunch, we reached the end of the lake, which was supposed to be right on the edge of the pristine wilderness we sought to commune with.
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2012-02-24 16-27-46

Something's not right. For the wilderness, there was an awful lot of screaming ren. It looked like there was a major campground right on the end of the lake. That was DEFINITELY not on the map. I was pissed, hungry, and we couldn't find the portage. I just wanted to get away from the noise. After about x minutes of searching, we paddled over the campground of screaming teenagers and asked "Where is the portage to Pen Lake?" "On the other side of Rock Lake," came the reply. "Uh, what lake is this?" "Whitefish Lake". Whitefish Lake. How the fuck did we end up on WHITEFISH LAKE? I had not even HEARD of Whitefish lake! We consulted the map, and horror of horrors, Whitefish lake was located directly NORTH of Rock Lake. We checked the compass. It said we were headed south. We shook the compass. Horror of horror of horrors, the needle shifted. South became North. The fucking needle was stuck. The whole time we thought we were traveling south on Rock Lake we were actually going north on Whitefish lake. Oh the humiliation!!! We ate a grumpy lunch in the on the shore opposite the summer camp. The noise from the summer camp bounced across the lake and drowned out our mpts at conversation. The din deafening. It was late afternoon, and our mistake had tripled our planned paddle distance for the first day. As we backtracked, I picked up on the million little signs that we were headed the wrong way. The sun, now hanging low in the sky, was on our right. West, as we headed south. We bitched. How is it possible to launch from the put in for Rock lake, and end up at a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT lake? There was no mention of a creek on the map! There should have been clear signage where we parked our car and launched! As we rounded the creek bend and our car came into view, so too did a sign: <---------Rock Lake Whitefish Lake -------->
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    2014-10-08 20-30-51

    Just city slickers after all. We were too busy figuring out how to get the canoe to run a straight line, that we hadn't seen the sign, hadn't noticed we were going UPSTREAM. It was a paddle of shame, past our car and downstream to Rock Lake. Withmistake, our easy trip had turned into a grueling first day. Despite our hunger and exhaustion, we really enjoyed Rock Lake. When we found the God's Head cliff (now named after some white dude whose name I will intentionally forget). The experience of being in the Rock's presence was intense. I understand why this was a spiritual place for the First Nations People who drew the sacred images on it's face. We found several pictographs.ofparallel slashes, like bear claw marks.of a turtle, or a person. They were faded, but there. Hundreds of years old, right beside the water, and still there. So close, we could have touched them. But we wouldn't dare. The Rock is forbidding. I asked K to take a picture of the rock "If this place will let us." To be in the presence of this place was intimidating, a little frightening. The breeze whistled around the rock and across it's scarred face - it sounded like the rock was breathing. K took out her camera and clicked the shutter. The camera shut off, and would not be turned back on. We took it as a sign, and left. The heat was getting to both of us, the sun was getting low, so we decided to bend the park's rules. We camped on Rock Lake. We were supposed to portage to Pen lake, where our permit said we were allowed to camp, but we were too tired and it takes quite a lot of work betweenpeople to set up camp and cook supper. Kind campers had left a stack of wood beside the fire pit, so I got to work cooking supper while K set up the tent.
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