Opeongo

I woke up at 7:00 before anyone else had stirred. I drank a coffee on the couch and mentally sorted through the list of things that needed to happen before we left.

We drove the truck, windows down, radio loud, up the 400 past the green, golden fields of late summer corn. With the sun rising like a yellow balloon the day was full of promise. As we neared Barrie, the sprawling and abundant farms gave way to a brief interlude of marsh and mixed forest before a swath of industrial and retail parks dominated the landscape.

Keith and Kieran were waiting for us at the Barrie On Route where I had bacon and eggs and Ollie had pancakes from Arby's. We checked the weather to discover thunderstorms were expected later in the evening so we didn't waste any time getting back on the road.

Soon the 400 became 11 threading through Muskoka and the craggy walls of pre Cambrian rock. The forest steadily grew taller and the individual trees closer together. We turned on 60 with a brief pitstop at Wendy's and the grocery store to pick up supplies.

As we drove down 60 the wind was picking up and the condensation was gathering in the sky to form billowing mountains of clouds above the trees. We passed into Algonquin park and hit construction all the way through the West corridor. Finally after 4 1/2 hours we reached the docks at the Opeongo access point. Securing our permits, canoes and firewood in haste we took to the water with winds at our backs and set off to find a campsite before the weather found us.

Our plan was to canoe past Blueberry Island where we stayed last year and look for a site, still in the South arm, but a little further up the West shore. Kevin and Audrey were going to meet us later so we needed to give them some idea of where to meet us. Without cell service they would need to check all the campsites until they found us.

We told Kevin we wouldn't go past Bates Island but before we knew it, we had blown past the island into Squaw Bay. The skies were impenetrably gray and deepening with every passing minute. They threatened to swallow the tops of the hills and the water got choppier, aggravated by the invading skies. We paddled back upwind pressing against time, knowing that pitching tents in a storm would make for a difficult beginning to our journey. Relief washed over us when Keith rounded the point of an unnamed bay, calling back to us that he'd found a campsite unoccupied. It was around 4:00 in the afternoon. We had arrived.Weiterlesen