Home Sweet, New Temporary Home, in Thunder Bay

Thunder Bay feels a little like home right now.  We've spent a little more than a week here (including our time at Sleeping Giant), which is the longest we've spent in any one city since bumming off my parents in Tecumseh.  We've kind of established a favourite neighbourhood even, especially after tonight, which we're spending at the Sleeping Giant Guesthouse, a radical little hostel on Machar Ave. just 'round the corner from our favourite cafe, Bean Fiend, beside my favourite hippy shop, and just down from a community garden.  Just down the other way is the library and a Finnish bookshop, and if you like Alpaca sweaters, there's an entire store dedicated to garments made from the downy wool.  There are so many cute cafes in this neighbourhood, I feel overwhelmed choosing which one to spend my money at.  Today we went to The Growing Season and had delicious (although a little pricey) lunch dishes made from all local produce.  Thunder Bay is pretty cool, man.  Too bad Lakehead doesn't have a midwifery program.  No, but seriously - I like this place.  Having the Sibley Peninsula right down the road is just the icing on the cake.  After spending four days in Sleeping Giant, one day hiking, and three a little farther in, I only want more time there.

Little fox friend who visited us three times while we camped out on Sibley Peninsula.

Our hood in T. Bay.

The Growing Season cafe.

Yummy lunch.

Excited pups outside Red Earth (where I bought some awesome linen pants).

Ojibway legend says that the Giant is Nanabijou, the Deep Water Spirit, who rewarded the tribe who once lived on Isle Royale for their stand-up way of life by giving them a plentiful silver mine.  However, the spirit warned that if the secret location of the mine were ever divulged to white men, he himself would turn to stone and the tribe would disappear.  Well, the Ojibway stayed quiet, but apparently a Sioux leader became envious of the silver and sent a spy in, undercover, to discover the location.  He did discover the location, and sure enough gave that secret up to some white traders, who drowned when they tried to reach the mine, in the deluge that flooded the entrance to the mine itself.  After the storm, a massive blockade resembling a sleeping man with crossed arms appeared in what were previously open waters.  Thus, the Sleeping Giant was born.  

Here lies the Giant - head, Adam's apple, chest, legs.

There really is an old flooded silver mine here, it was functioning from 1870-1884.  Silver Islet, the mining community, is within the boundaries of the provincial park, and is still inhabited by a couple families of original miners as well as cottagers - all in beautiful, small wood cabins with solar panels on top (there's no electricity within the park).  This place is gorgeous, and the general store, which sits right beside the tiny marina, has a tea room which serves the most delicious cinnamon buns imaginable, and its owners, Joan (who is from Moncton!) and Lorne will make you feel like part of the family.

Silver Islet.

   

While in the park, we camped two nights on Lehtinen's Bay along the Kabeyun Trail.  An easy as pie 8km hike down an abandoned logging road leads to gorgeous campsites on the Lake Superior shoreline.  The ground was soft, and our site had beach access, and a proper fire pit with log seats and a stone patio.  We used that little piece of heaven as home base and tackled the rest of our hiking from there.  Hiking the steep ground leading to the top of the Giant was challenging and took some time - about 45 minutes for the first kilometre which climbs 290m up - but the view from the top was spectacular.  We could see Thunder Bay to the west and Minnesota to the south, there was even a bald eagle soaring above us at one point.  Apparently these are the highest cliffs in Ontario, which makes me feel extra proud to have toughed out the climb.

We had a really calm first night camping along the Lake Superior shore, the lapping of the water soothing our tired bodies to sleep; I even got in some yoga on the rocky beach the next morning while it was sunny - the best way to warm up after a night that went down to -2 degrees (brrrr).  Our second night couldn't have been more different, ho boy was it wiiiiiiindy.  I actually had a dream that it was pouring rain, the sounds coming from the ample surf down on the beach.  It was pretty tough getting water for cooking, drinking, anything really, but once we gathered some we realized that we didn't have to boil it (a welcomed relief for our stove's fuel tank) - it was crystal clear and delicious right from the source - oh Canada.

Really cool inukshuks on our beach.

The Giant laying to the West.

The other side.

Our lovely campsite.

The patio.

So Mother Willow-esq.

We're still on the trail, right?

We made it!

It's steep.

Hidden Lake at the top of the Giant.

Looking down at the little cove where we camped from the east side of the Giant.

Even steeper on the west side of the Giant.

Hi Duncan!

Now, out of the bush and warm and cozy in the hostel, I really do feel at home.  The hostel cat, Dog, helps; he loves to curl up in your lap for a good chin scratch and fall asleep…but he'll wake up and paw at you if you stop scratching (he also makes really funny groaning sounds while he's cleaning himself, it's so funny).  The hostel owner, Gail, is pretty awesome.  She's a nurse at an old folk's home, and her family members also run hostels in Ottawa and east of Thunder Bay, "it's a family thing," she says casually; she couldn't be cuter and more welcoming.  I think we won her over when we told her we're from Halifax - she's going out there with her man in a couple weeks and says she's ecstatic and has always wanted to go.  People love the east coast all across Canada!  There are a couple of really cool Germans and a guy from Montreal also living here, all of whom are in an outdoor adventure program at Lakehead.  Yah, you can get a degree in hiking, canoeing, kayaking, climbing, and general outdoor awesomeness!  

Dog hanging out on my belly.

Dog hanging out on Duncan's belly.

Next we're heading west to Quetico for some canoeing - as soon as we can peel our butts off these homey couches.  

    

Georgian Bay to Lake Superior

Rain, rain, go away, come again another day…or not.  

I'm in Thunder Bay and it's raining.  Yah, whatever, theme of the trip: Canadian weather is unpredictable.  Luckily, Thunder Bay is pretty cool.  It has an amazing central library that's full of books on Ojibway myths, legends, and general life lessons, and we've once again found a lovely internet snatching, fair trade B.C. roasted coffee providing hang out spot; it's called The Bean Fiend and it just happens to be attached to a most tempting store - Red Earth Imports, which is reminiscent of Halifax's Black Market combined with Mary Jane's Smoke Shop - cool clothes from south east Asia, incense, wooden jewelry, leather sandals, plus a head shoppe all in one.  Too bad I'm poor as dirt right now…it might not stop me from buying the multi-coloured wrap sweater that was handmade in Nepal and feels oh so soft on the skin.

Picture stolen from Bean Fiend's facebook page...it's not sunny here.

   

After leaving Pembroke, Duncan and I ventured into Killarney Provincial Park on the north shore of Georgian Bay.  Woo, is it ever gorgeous!  After spending way too much money on a site in the park camp ground ($40.50/night - no joke), we decided to camp out in the van beside a community hall in the town of Killarney.

   

I want to take a minute to discuss this little pickle that Duncan and I have been dealing with all along our trip - the price of camping in provincial parks.  When did camping become so damned expensive?  $40 for a 20 x 20 foot clearing in an area plastered with 150 other campsites, small bushes and minimal tree covering dividing you form your next-door-camp neighbours, who may be anyone from David Suzuki to Al Bundy.  Yah there are "bathrooms" and a water tap a short walk away and a picnic table on site, but I'm not sure that this justifies the highway robbery that the government of Ontario is committing on us Canadian campers.  What happened to the collective spirit of poverty (thanks, Kris) hovering around camping?  Doesn't anyone realize that one of the most enticing reasons for camping (besides it being awesome) is because it is cheap, or used to be?  Granted, backcountry camping in Ontario's gems is less pricey (generally $11 per night, per person), however, when in a pinch or arriving too late to hike out to the backcountry, the alternative is not accessible to us young adults looking for affordable options.  Camping in the van or in the tent on public property near by has become the only option when being gouged like this across the province...That campsite was nice though, it had gorgeous views of George Lake and some nice flat rocks to sit on while the sunset all around us.  

                

Room with a view of George Lake.

Anyway, we spent two days doing day hikes from our squat-spot, which left me breathless (figuratively…and sometimes literally).  The first hike we did was Chikanishing, which was really short (two or three km), but outstandingly beautiful.  It reminded me of Peggy's Cove - it's the Peggy's Cove of Georgian Bay, I dare say.  Huge flat, rolling rocks, rugged trees and berry bushes struggling every minute to cling on, high winds sweeping off the bay, sea-spray (or lake-spray, rather) in your face when you get too close to the water, which is crystal blue and looks so inviting, but upon dipping your hand in you realize is heart-stopingly frigid (as Georgian Bay has always been and will always be).  The trail was marked with plaques explaining the local history of the area - from Aboriginal fishing grounds to Colonial pulp and paper processing town, deadly mines, near abandonment, and the eventual arrival of the Group of Seven who were so taken with the landscape that they lobbied the government to protect the area from development (you go, Group of Seven!).  As the clouds moved in, Duncan and I called it a day and hung out in town (which consists of a few restaurants, a general store, a boat launch, a hunting lodge, and lots of spirit) doing our smelly laundry. 

Looking at Georgian Bay.

Cold Water.

Day two we took on The Crack, which was well worth the climb.  The trail leading to The Crack is part of the 78km La Cloche loop, which Dunc and I did not attempt.  It takes you through beautiful Boreal Forest, wetlands, by a couple lakes, and glacial boulder minefields to "the crack", a divide in the granite ridge, which is the steep gateway to the top, where the view is unbelievable.  Can't be described, just check out the pictures.

Cheer up, Duncan.

Looks like it's going to fall...

Getting to The Crack.

Leading up to The Crack.

Here we are...

We arrived and the sun came out!

From Killarney we headed to Sault Ste. Marie, from which we were planning to head into Lake Superior Park, but the weather wasn't looking so good so we scooted on up to Sleeping Giant, a peninsula just east of Thunder Bay.  

Lake Superior north shore.

Van/Bus stopping place.
A couple in their 60s from Shediac, NB is traveling across the country in that van, as they have been since the 70s.

I'm pretty sure they graffitied this on the rocks.

We got one day of hikes in before the clouds rolled back in.  We checked out an old graveyard dating back to when the area's claim to fame was a silver mine, a trail passing over a stream that salmon and lake trout swim up in the springtime to spawn, and a path weaving through an area that had been altered specifically to make it a prime bird habitat.  Pretty cool stuff, but when the weather gets better we're going back to take on The Giant himself (a trail leading up Thunder Mountain and around the Giant's head and feet) in the backcountry.

Silver Islet Cemetery.

Peek-A-Boo.

Duck Habitat, I think.

A Fine Fat Pheasant.

Blue skies at Sleeping Giant.

                          

Brrrrrrrrrrr

My mom's beach.
Oh so warm.

Enjoying the heat...while it lasted.

OK when did it start being so cold in September?  Seriously.  What happened to those days when I was baking in the sand on my Mom's beach and Duncan (who runs ten degrees warmer than most) was stuck in the shade?  I swear it has only been two weeks, but all of a sudden I'm sleeping in layers upon layers of clothing and still freezing my tuchas off!  I'd probably be fine under normal circumstances (normal being household), but camping in this climate requires a certain amount of good humour.  That's right…the Ontario backcountry tripping has begun (and is well underway)!  Fresh off the Eastern Pines backpacking trail in the northeast corner of Algonquin park, here I am, library internet hopping again.  But I have to go back, Eastern Pines is the second trail we've conquered so far.

Oxtongue River Rapids at our squat-site.

  

After four days of laying low in Huntsville, riding out the bout of rain that seemed like it would never end (and kind of hasn't), Duncan and I finally moved on.  Monday night we headed toward Algonquin, but decided to camp outside the park (van styles) that night and get our packing and general trip prepping done.  We found the most ideal spot imaginable along the Oxtongue River on Oxtongue Rapids Rd.  Not only was it a gorgeous backcountry road, totally secluded, but it's also a popular kayak entry point/resting place along the river, so there was a covered picnic table, a fire pit, and the cleanest outhouse I've ever seen - squatters paradise (as long as your car's undercarriage is high enough to make it there without scraping bottom)!  With not much rain we were able to get a fire going to cook some cheddar smokies (that's right, I'm eating meat these days - I can't be stopped - HELP).  Shout out to Glen and Holly - now I know why you guys always bring these delectable morsels on camping trips; they're freakin' delicious!  Meat consumption guilt ensuing, I had the most efficient packing session of my life and called it a night.  Rising bright and early (10am), we headed into the park and onto our first backcountry trail - the Highlands Backpacking Trail in the southwest of Algonquin.  The 19km loop we opted for was challenging to say the least; right off the bat we headed up a steep 200 foot incline.  Despite the up, down, up, down of the aptly named Highland Trail, the terrain was gorgeous and our camp sites (three in total) were more than satisfactory.  We only saw eight people in four days, and while the wildlife sightings weren't bountiful, we did see: a wild chicken, a group of very brave bluejays, a hare, lots of chipmunks and tree squirrels, a snapping turtle, and a few loons; their piercing cries reminding us it was about to get dark every evening at 7:30pm and then later lulling us to sleep.  We didn't have the greatest weather in the Highlands, and our nerves were thoroughly tested when we were trying to cook in on again, off again rain most evenings (which we spent camping along, no joke, Provoking Lake), but luckily we weren't rained on once while hiking - phew.  We had planned to spend five days and four nights on the trail, but after so much wetness and some chilly nights, we decided to hike on out on day four.  Unsure of how fast we would hike, we had booked way too much time for that trail anyway.  Once out of the backcountry and back on Highway 60, we decided to reward ourselves with a hearty meal at the Two Rivers Canteen - I had a clubhouse sandwich (turkey AND bacon - oh God, help me).

Momma and Baby Shroom.

Campsite #1
It cleared up on our first night just long enough for a gorgeous sunset, which was promptly followed by a downpour of rain.

Looking out the tent window to sunshine on our last day!

   

Caterpillar crawling through the bryophytes.

Campsite #3 on Provoking Lake.

Thanks for doing the dishes, Dunc!

Sunny hike out of the Highlands.

Snack time at the falls on the hike out.

From there, we headed out of the park for a brief visit to Dobson Farms in Cobden, where Nick, and now Kaley, are working for a couple months.  We spent two nights in Kaley's teepee (yah, the interns each have their own actual teepee to sleep in - so cool), and a day exploring the organic vegetable gardens, eating what we found in the ground, mooing back at the grazing, grass-fed cows, and hanging out in the barn loft.  Oh man, I want to be a farmer.  Ya, I know, farming is hard work and we didn't experience any of it while we were visiting, but the setting and apparent lifestyle were enough to convince me that I could endure the back-breaking work for the enormous rewards, which Nick put best in an email he sent to me a while back when he said, "…I love being tired at night and so hungry when I eat, things are so simple, nice and natural and the work is rewarding."  We reluctantly left two of my favourite people on CSA box harvest day (CSA being community supported agriculture, for those unfamiliar), after rising at the ungodly hour of 6am - one aspect of farming it would take me a while to get used to - and headed back west, to Algonquin again. 

Dobson Farm.

Intern hangout garage.

This time we entered the park on the east side, driving 30km down a dirt, logging road to eventually reach Achray campground and our trail head.  The Eastern Pines backpacking trail is only 15km, so we opted to do a short trip - two days and one night.  The first day of hiking was a literal walk in the park.  It was so much easier than the Highlands trail that we hiked what I thought would take four to five hours (based on how quickly we got through the Highlands) in two and a half!   Left with a whole day free to explore, we headed to the very edge of the east side of the trail, which borders a nature reserve, to High Falls and an area that the trail map described as "an area of outstandingly beautiful cascading pools and smooth rock formations".  Well, with a header like that, we had to see it, and it lived up to it's description.  High Falls wasn't so high or outstanding for the falls themselves, three or four sets of small falls were accessible to us, beautiful, but breathtaking were the rock formations - Canadian shield at it's best - thank you glaciation!  The water was beautiful, deep blue and so glassy we just had to jump in…stark naked, in true fashion; I love skinny dipping and any excuse to get naked outdoors, everyone knows it, and this was a good one!  Not breaking pattern, the Algonquin skies rained on us right after dinner, so we wrapped up the evening early and headed to bed at 8pm, played some cards, read, and got some shut eye.  However, at some point in the middle of the night I was rudely awakened by the harsh September cold.  Holy cow!  We got down to three degrees, folks!  It was unexpected, uninvited, and unappreciated.  The only redeeming factor of being awake and freezing cold was hearing the elusive Eastern wolves (they could have been coyotes, but I choose to believe they were wolves) howling.  Earlier in the night I had tried to spur it on by howling at the moon myself (sometimes it works, I'm not totally nuts), but unsuccessful, I gave up and retired.  Hearing the wolves was the only thing that could have put a smile on my face, and it did - thanks Algonquin. 

Hey frog!

Hey snake!

High Falls (part of it).

Outstandingly beautiful cascading pools.

Now the people will know we were here.

Glassy water.

Glacial boulder garden.

Beautiful old pine bark.

In the morning we got a late start (noon ish) on a day that we expected to be just as easy as the day before; how wrong we were.  While the hike was absolutely gorgeous through old pine forest - trees towering over us, steep lookouts (which we had to climb up), barely-there paths, wetlands, and a glacial boulder garden - it was rough!  More than once we questioned whether we were on the path at all and steep climbs seemed to pop out of nowhere.  The glacial boulder garden was stunning, but hard to hike and tough on the knees.  Needless to say, at the end of the hike today (10 km), Duncan and I were pooped.  We headed back into Pembroke for the night to grab some internet and supplies for the next leg of the trip to Killarney Provincial Park.  Exhausted and tired of the cold-wet combo, we've also sought refuge for the first time in a motel - the Champlain Motor Inn, which boasts on its sign "The prettiest honeymoon suite in town.  With jacuzzi!" (HA!)  The hot shower was the deciding factor - we stink!  Speaking of which, Duncan just got out of the bathroom, which means it's my turn to scrub off the stench lingering all over my body.

   

Keep your fingers crossed for sunshine in the upcoming days, and think warm thoughts for us!