Easy Nav
- Trip Info
- Background
- Day 1 – Lake Opeongo to Redrock Lake
- Day 2 – Redrock Lake to Happy Isle Lake
- Day 3 – Rest Day on Happy Isle Lake
- Day 4 – Happy Isle Lake to Merchant Lake
- Day 5 – Merchant Lake to Happy Isle Lake
- Day 6 – Happy Isle Lake to Lake Opeongo, North Arm
- Day 7 – Rest Day on Lake Opeongo, North Arm
- Day 8 – Paddling Lake Opeongo
- The Aftermath
- Campsites
Trip Info
Date: September 10th – 17th, 2024
Route: Lake Opeongo > Redrock Lake > Happy Isle Lake x2 > Merchant Lake > Happy Isle Lake > Lake Opeongo, North Arm x2
Total Number of Portages: 5
Avg. Number of Portages Per Travel Day: 1
Total Length of Portages: 18,300m
Avg. Length of Portages Per Travel Day: 3,660m
Total Travel Time: 15hrs
Avg. Travel Time Per Travel Day: 3hrs
Total Distance Covered: 40km
Avg. Distance Covered Per Travel Day: 8km
*The numbers above are based on double-carrying portages, since this is how I travelled. If you plan on single-carrying portages, you’ll want to divide the Portage Length numbers by 3, and subtract the estimated time saved from the Travel Time numbers.
Background
It was mid-September and things were very busy with work. I had just gotten back from my trip “Recreating My First Solo Canoe Trip, 10 Years Later”, and I was struggling to catch up on everything that I missed while I was gone. But the weather forecast in Algonquin Park was calling for 10 straight days of sunshine in the high 20’s.
I think you know where this is going…
I decided to book an 8 day canoe trip. Mid-September is my favourite time to be in the park. The bugs are almost gone, there’s less people around, and I get to witness the fall colours begin to change. I wasn’t going to miss this.
I always shudder when I look at a map and consider a trip starting from Lake Opeongo. It either begins with a massive paddle to cross the lake—or a water taxi, which can be expensive since I travel solo—and basically every trip option requires really long portages, which can be extra annoying since I double-carry. I decided to compromise with myself. I would tackle some of the long portages, but otherwise I would make it a leisurely trip. Lake Opeongo to Redrock Lake, Happy Isle Lake, Merchant Lake, and back to Opeongo’s North Arm. I would have three long portages throughout the trip, 1.9km, 1.3km, and 2.2km in respective order. Otherwise, the travel days wouldn’t be too long, and I would have a few rest days too.
It was time to finally explore north of Lake Opeongo.
Day 1 — Lake Opeongo to Redrock Lake
I reserved my permits the day before I left, which was the deadline to book the water taxi through Opeongo Outfitters. I knew that Algonquin Outfitters had walk-in service available, but Opeongo Outfitters was the simpler option (no paperwork), plus they have the beautiful wooden boats. My $100 water taxi was reserved for 9:00 AM.
I arrived a few minutes early and Jimmy, one of the owners, was already there waiting for me. He said I could take my time getting my gear ready and loaded into the boat. He kept to himself and didn’t chat too much throughout the entire taxi experience. We set off at 9:15 AM.
It was around 10 degrees Celsius, which was fine while at the dock, but not-so-fine while zipping through Lake Opeongo with the frigid wind smashing against my face. Did I think about this and consider bundling up beforehand? Absolutely. Did I care to actually put on my jacket, toque, or gloves? I did not. Did I regret that decision? Most definitely. Am I weird for asking myself rhetorical questions in a trip report? You betcha.
At least the water was calm so the boat wasn’t bouncing up and down. Elo seemed to have a blast during the ride. When we arrived, the boat couldn’t pull in to the portage landing, and I wasn’t keen on getting my feet wet before double-carrying a 1.9km portage. So, we put my canoe in the water and then I loaded all of my gear and paddled the remaining two feet to shore.
The portage wasn’t as bad as I expected. I didn’t need to stop for any breaks. It had a few small rolling hills, along with a few steeper hills near the end. But overall, the elevation change wasn’t too challenging. I was traveling in the right direction and going downhill for the steeper hills, so that was nice. There was a little bit of rough terrain throughout the portage, but for the most part, it was easy footing. There were 5+ boardwalks to cross, with all except one or two being in good shape. I saw a few moose tracks and some wolf poop in the middle of the trail too. The entire double-carry took 1.5 hours; we finished at 11:15 AM.
The portage was tiring and my body was sore, but I still had a surprising amount of energy considering I slept less than 5 hrs overnight. I quickly checked out the campsite near the portage. I knew I wasn’t going to camp there, but I wanted to document it for my website. I continued into the middle of the lake to see if the campsite on the north shore was available. From my research beforehand, it was the site to aim for. I was pretty sure I had the only permit for the evening, so it was mine for the taking.
I immediately loved the campsite upon going on shore. It was a very large, exposed site, with a handful of tent spots to choose from, along with six flat benches beside the fire pit. No, that’s not a typo… literally six flat benches! You might be wondering why I care about six flat benches when I use a camping chair. That’s a valid question. It’s true I don’t need much seating for myself, but it makes it extra convenient to store some of my gear. Anyways, yeah, the campsite was awesome. It had amazing views too. Plus, an endless supply of firewood behind the campsite. The thunder box was as full as I had ever seen a thunder box, so that was my one main complaint.
I went for an afternoon paddle to tour the lake under the hot sun and moderate breeze. I let the tailwind push me to the east end of the lake so I could check out the isolated campsite over there. Then I battled the headwind to the west end of the lake and checked out the four remaining campsites I hadn’t seen yet. For some reason, I was expecting Redrock Lake to be full of crappy campsites, but I was pleasantly surprised with a few of them. The lake itself didn’t impress me much when I entered from the portage, but after spending a few hours touring the lake in its entirety, it definitely grew on me.
I probably shouldn’t have boasted about having so much energy earlier, because after double-carrying the 1.9km portage, setting up camp, and then touring the entire lake and every campsite, I was finally toast. I got back to camp shortly before 4:00 PM. I processed some firewood, spent time hanging with Elo, and then made myself a Beef Chili meal from Flat Out Feasts. It was delicious.
The lake was completely empty. I was all alone. Camping solo is an amazing experience in itself, but there’s something special about being the only person on an entire lake. I did see one other group paddle by earlier in the day, which confused me. They came from the east and went past my campsite behind the large island. There are no portages in that direction so no matter where they were heading, it was a detour. I knew for certain they weren’t camping on the lake, so I was curious where they were going. I pondered the situation for a few minutes and then realized I didn’t actually care that much, so I went back to playing with Elo instead. Playing with Elo is always more exciting than whatever random thought enters my head.
The sky was still cloudless and the wind started to die down in the evening, so I went for my evening paddle at 7:00 PM. I had already documented all of the campsites on the lake so I had no particular agenda. I paddled north beyond my campsite to watch the sunset and check for wildlife. I saw what I thought was a weasel at the front of my campsite before leaving, but otherwise I didn’t have any luck with wildlife for the evening. The sunset was gorgeous and more than made up for the lack of wildlife. The moon was in the southwest while the sun was setting in the northwest. No matter where I looked, I had a beautiful landscape within my view.
I had a ridiculous amount of firewood processed, so when I returned from my paddle, I quickly got a fire going while there was still some light left in the sky. I sat beside a warm fire for a few hours, until 10:00 PM, while my Canon was on astrophotography-timelapse-duty nearby. Elo was tethered to one of the 6 benches beside the fire pit. We had a very long day and she was clearly tired. She laid down quietly beside me the entire evening.
Day 2 — Redrock Lake to Happy Isle Lake
They say you get wiser as you get older. On the morning of Day 2, I was technically older than the morning of Day 1. So, I learned from my mistake of not bundling up during the water taxi ride, and put in the effort to wear my toque and gloves. I felt so wise. Even though I wasn’t going on a water taxi, it was still a cold morning with single-digit temperatures.
My morning on Redrock Lake was one for the books. The sunrise was absolutely spectacular, with the entire sky glowing a strong orange as the pink clouds whisked across its path. The mist on the water was sweeping across the lake in the foreground of the sunrise. The vantage point from the campsite itself happened to provide a beautiful framing of the event. And the hills from the large island directly across from my campsite, in the opposite direction of the sunrise, looked magnificent as the sun shined bright onto them. It’s not often I get to witness a sunrise as beautiful as this one.
I only had one 1.3km portage into Happy Isle Lake, so I took my time packing up camp. With the drastic temperature change overnight, everything was soaking wet with morning dew. Midway through packing I went back into the tent to lie down for a few minutes. For a moment I forgot that morning dew means the ground is wet, and Elo’s paws are a magnet for dirty wet ground. The tent instantaneously became filthy the moment Elo jumped inside. So much for me getting wiser! Thankfully, part of my tent setup is a flat bedsheet that covers the entire floor of the tent. I dumped all of the dirt from the sleeping bags onto the bedsheet, and then brought the bedsheet outside of the tent to shake it off. The tent floor was spotless once again.
Earlier I mentioned that the morning on Redrock Lake was one for the books. But it wasn’t only because of the sunrise. My paddle towards the 1.3km portage was equally as stunning. I took the route behind the large island and the water was dead calm, creating glass-like reflections. Every corner I turned provided another breathtaking view of the shoreline reflecting onto the lake. The varying peninsulas and islands created a level of depth to the lake, making the landscape and its reflections all the more dramatic. I came to love the shape of Redrock Lake; it provided vast views while still being small enough to travel through quickly.
The portage from Redrock Lake into Happy Isle Lake felt like the younger brother of the portage I did the previous day. It had similar terrain, a similar frequency of boardwalks, and a similar number of rolling hills. There were a few key differences though. First, a lot more sunshine made its way into the trail of this portage. This made it feel more welcoming while also highlighting the bright green and yellow colours on the trees. Second, there’s one boardwalk that’s elevated probably 10 feet off the ground. It’s more like a bridge than it is a boardwalk. I was slightly nervous each of the three times I crossed it with Elo tethered to me, especially during my canoe + barrel carry. Thankfully, we made it across in one piece. Another difference was that the portage from Lake Opeongo into Redrock Lake had a steep hill towards the end of the portage; there was no elevation change as steep on this portage from Redrock Lake into Happy Isle Lake. And finally, the portage landing at Happy Isle Lake was a massive pebble beach… a very warm welcome after finishing the trail!
I paddled directly to the northeastern island campsite on Happy Isle Lake to check it out. It was a beautiful, large campsite with tons of open space, a big fire pit, and an extremely shallow beach landing. It looked like it would get periodic sun throughout the day but I wasn’t sure how the sunset or sunrise views would be. Still, I was more than happy to call this place home for my two nights. I needed to do some housekeeping first though. A recent group left this campsite in a mess. A big green yoga mat on the bench, a portable shower underneath the same bench, lots of garbage in the fire pit, and some dog poop off to the side (at least I hope it was from a dog). There were some large branches and massive logs scattered throughout the site that I neatly moved to one spot so it was less of an eyesore. One of the logs must have weighed 100lbs, but I had a few days until my next long portage so I put my back to work and dragged it across the site. Finally, the campsite started to look like a regular, non-abused site.
The portage only took me 1 hour to double-carry, so I was at my island campsite on Happy Isle Lake quite early, at 10:45 AM. I did plan on visiting some other campsites throughout the day, but I was in no particular rush to get back on the water. I took my time setting up camp and relaxing with Elo.
While I was doing my food hang, a group of two canoes passed by and I heard one of the canoes say they were going to stop at the island to rearrange their gear. Really? They had the entire lake to find somewhere to pull over, including the long beachfront that spanned most of the eastern shoreline, along with every other vacant campsite. Not to mention, the two other vacant campsites right beside me on the same island. But for some reason they wanted to paddle straight towards me and pull over at the shoreline directly in front of my campsite? As they landed at the rocky shoreline, here’s how the conversation went:
Me: “Hey, this campsite is occupied.”
Nameless Man: “We aren’t coming on land, we just need to rearrange our gear in the boat.”
Me: “Ok but just so you know it’s bad etiquette to do this at someone’s campsite. There are two other empty campsites on this same island less than a minute away.”
Nameless Man: “We’ll only be two minutes. Would you rather our boat flips while we’re paddling?”
Me: “Well that’s just a ridiculous thing to say, but ok, I’m just trying to educate you for next time, what you’re doing is considered bad etiquette.”
Nameless Man: “We’re not looking to argue, we’ll be gone in two minutes.”
If a group needed assistance, of course I would never refuse them, but these people chose to land directly at my campsite instead of literally anywhere else on the lake. The two neighbouring campsites on this island would have taken no more than 30 seconds to reach. The wind wasn’t strong either, in case you were wondering about the conditions on the water. Some people just lack common sense and don’t have respect for other people’s privacy in the backcountry.
At 4:00 PM I went for a paddle to check out the two pebble-beach campsites on the northeast shoreline, beside the portage from Redrock Lake. Both of the campsites were occupied with people but I went on shore anyways. I’m KIDDING, relax guys! After documenting both of the (vacant!) campsites, I went to the nearby portage to collect some firewood. There was driftwood directly on the beach, but I also went inland to collect some additional firewood. The wood inland was wet, but I grabbed a ridiculous amount and brought it back to my campsite to dry. I already had enough dry wood for the current evening, so I was hoping the wet wood from the portage would dry out for my second night at the campsite.
When I got on the water I noticed very dark blue skies in the distance. The type of skies that could be nothing, or could be something real bad. Just to be safe, I paddled hard to get back to my campsite. It took around 30 minutes to get the firewood from my canoe and onto shore, and then break it down and tuck it underneath the benches to stay dry. I immediately made myself dinner and fed Elo before any potential rain started. I had the Cheesy Chicken Casserole from Flat Out Feasts. It was the last of their meals I had yet to try, and it ended up being my favourite one. Elo had one cup of kibble. It’s what she always eats. Therefore, by default, I guess she got her favourite meal too?
Then the rain began. It started as a very gentle drizzle and I didn’t need to take any shelter. The drizzle progressively got stronger, but hiding underneath a tree was enough shelter to stay dry. It kept getting stronger until it finally forced me and Elo into the tent. It only lasted about 20 minutes and wasn’t too heavy of a downpour. It was the type of rainfall where everything would be dry again an hour later.
I left the campsite for an evening paddle at 7:30 PM. The sky was fully overcast but I’m pretty sure the sun had already crossed the shoreline. I zipped my way across the lake to document the single campsite on the southwest shore, opposite of the island. I made it with just enough light remaining, then zipped my way back to my own campsite to get a fire started.
I knew there would be no stars with all of the overcast, so I decided to sit by the fire for a few hours and then call it a night. I felt a tiny drizzle immediately after I put out the fire, but I was confident (and hopeful) that there wouldn’t be any more rain for the evening. The weather forecast that I pulled did predict the short rainfall from earlier, but it wasn’t calling for anything afterwards. I took my chances and left the door of my rainfly open when I got into my tent at 10:30 PM.
Day 3 — Rest Day on Happy Isle Lake
Unfortunately, the forecast was not accurate. I woke up in the middle of the night somewhat delusional, but with the sound of rainfall jolting me out of my sleeping bag to close the door of the rainfly. The rain continued on-and-off throughout the night, sometimes being a gentle drizzle, sometimes being a downpour. The frequent starting and stopping and varying levels of noise kept waking me up. I had a terrible sleep.
Thankfully, it was a rest day so I didn’t need to pack up camp and move anywhere. I enjoyed a slow morning with Elo while we were treated to a beautiful sunrise. The entire sky didn’t light up with colours like the previous day on Redrock Lake, but the sun itself looked more magnificent. After enjoying the sunrise, we went back into the tent for a quick snooze.
I set out for a day trip shortly after 8:30 AM, to tour the northern region of Happy Isle Lake. I stopped at each of the five campsites, sometimes moving quickly (the less desirable sites) and sometimes taking my time (the nicer sites). There was a beach at the shoreline in the bay between Campsite #4 and Campsite #5, and I debated stopping to check it out, but ultimately decided against it. Note to future self, there’s a beach there.
I took an extended break at Campsite #2 to enjoy the views from the peninsula. I had a feeling that there would be cell service at this campsite, so I turned off airplane mode on my phone. I was correct, there was one spotty bar near the fire pit. I pulled a quick weather forecast, since the forecast from my InReach had clearly failed me, and then I turned airplane mode back on. This forecast called for 7 more days of straight sunshine, with most days in the high 20’s with a “feels like” in the low 30’s, and very little wind. This was helpful because it meant I would pay attention to the wind direction and try to grab campsites that had exposure to the small amount of wind, along with decent shade from the hot sun.
The cloudy morning turned into a hot sunny day during my paddle back to my campsite. I made a quick pit-stop to look at the memorial plaque on the opposite side of my island, mounted on the rock-cliff in front of Campsite #12. When I got back to my site, I laid out all of my firewood under the sunshine for it to dry. It was stacked underneath the benches overnight, which helped prevent it from getting completely soaked during the rainfall, but it was still wet and could benefit from a sun tan. Then I went for a much needed nap with Elo.
The peninsula campsite north of my island got occupied by a group of three people in one canoe. They left their canoe at the rocky shoreline for a few hours. Their canoe was gently banging against the rocks from the small waves crashing into it. I was surprised that I was able to hear the gentle thudding sound every few seconds from my campsite. I was more surprised that it didn’t bother them. And I was even more surprised that I didn’t see an empty canoe floating past my island at some point. It would have been funny, sad, concerning, and expected, all at the same time.
I was able to hear the strong wind in the distance and see the fast-moving water in all directions from my campsite, but my campsite itself was completely sheltered. I felt the occasional wind-tickle if there was a strong gust, but otherwise, it was very calm and still. I actually would have preferred having a gentle breeze at the campsite, but thankfully there was lots of shade, so the hot sun wasn’t beating down on me.
I had a lazy afternoon sitting at the campsite with Elo. I dug a small hole at the base of a tree and uncovered a coin of some sort. It was buried about 4-5 inches deep under compact dirt, which made me wonder just how long it had been there. The coin was completely black and rusted looking. I had a new afternoon mission. I brought the coin to the shoreline, grabbed a tiny rock, and started scraping away. I was attempting to do a restoration of the coin, primitive style. It felt much smaller and lighter than any Canadian coin I had ever seen. I was really hoping it would be something insanely old, like from the 1800’s. After lots of work, I discovered the words “1 Cent, 1989, Canada”. It wasn’t as old as I was hoping, but it was still unique, and with a cool enough story for it to be my lucky coin.
After dinner I went for a paddle to explore the southeast region of Happy Isle Lake. The first stop I made was at the campsite near the portage into Lake Opeongo. It was what I expected for a campsite nearby the portage. It looked and felt like an emergency site, but not nearly as bad as some other emergency sites I’ve come across in the park. The campsite just barely catches the sunset in its view from the waterline, so I watched the sun cross the shoreline and then headed to my next stop, the southernmost campsite on the lake, in the narrows.
I immediately fell in love with this campsite. As I approached, I had a feeling I was about to be wow’ed. The first impression is the pebble beach shoreline that faces north. Off to a good start. Directly across from the campsite, maybe 20 metres, is a little bay that looks like a prime spot to see wildlife. I could imagine waking up and seeing a moose or bear standing there waiting to say good morning. The canoe landing for the site is a sandy beach peninsula, which is unique for Happy Isle Lake. The highlight was the view to the south; I couldn’t keep my eyes off of that breathtaking view into the narrow bay. The campsite itself was rather small, but it had all of the essentials. The small site didn’t bother me because that beach landing, its private location on the lake, and the views south immediately made me obsessed with this site. The moon was visible in the south narrows as well, adding to the already ridiculously pretty view. The loons were calling, the birds were singing, and the fish were flapping all over the place. It was so peaceful and serene in this secluded section of Happy Isle Lake, away from the main canoe route. This felt like wildlife territory. It felt like complete solitude from the rest of the lake. It felt special.
I was considering paddling deeper into the bay to look for wildlife, or heading back to the main body of the lake to watch the sunset colours. I dropped both of those ideas and decided to sit and enjoy the campsite with the few minutes of sunlight I had remaining. I still had 20ish minutes of paddling to get back to my campsite, and the sun had long crossed the shoreline, so time was ticking. I sat at the campsite, had a snack, and soaked in those views with Elo by my side. It was very lovely.
Elo gets so excited when we document campsites. She’s so eager to leave the canoe when we arrive at the site, and she can barely contain herself waiting to jump back into the canoe as we move to our next destination. I’ve taught her to wait for the command before she jumps into the canoe, but I can feel the tension on the leash as she can barely hold herself back. At the first millisecond of hearing me say the words “Ok, let’s go” she darts into the canoe like a bullet.
It was getting dark during the paddle back, but I didn’t mind. It just meant the moon was glowing even brighter and was looking prettier than ever. Elo was resting her head on the thwart directly in front of me. Her face was looking in my direction with her chin propped up on the thwart. She was watching me paddle while her eyes slowly closed, as she drifted in and out of sleep. It really warmed my heart seeing Elo get so excited while we visit campsites, and then become so comfortable by my side in the canoe. This was all during an evening with a perfect temperature and a gentle breeze against my face. It’s moments like this that I truly cherish, appreciate, and savour.
We got back to camp at 8:00 PM and I immediately needed my headlamp. I had my pre-fire ready so I lit the birch and got it going. The rest of the evening was a repeat of the previous night. I sat by the fire for a few hours with whiskey, roasted marshmallows, and some other snacks, while quietly listening to some music from my phone. The stars were out, but so was the moon (setting shortly after midnight) so astrophotography was off the table. After the fire, I went to bed at around 10:30 PM.
Day 4 — Happy Isle Lake to Merchant Lake
There was no rain overnight but I still had a similarly bad sleep again. Whenever I’m on a trip I sleep perfectly until like 2:00 AM and then my body says “that’s it, you’ve had enough” and I spend the rest of the morning tossing and turning until I see light outside of the tent. Thankfully, I wasn’t traveling far today, only one lake north into Merchant Lake. The portage was a short one too, at only 340m.
I enjoyed another spectacular sunrise from my island campsite while slowly packing up camp. I left camp at around 8:30 AM to a calm, windless morning. The shorelines were reflecting perfectly onto the water making the paddle through Happy Isle Lake especially pretty. There isn’t anything better than early morning paddling on perfectly reflective water. Sprinkle in some fall colours on the trees and that’s one heck of a way to start the day.
The portage entrance is officially marked with the yellow sign, and unofficially marked with the single red maple tree overhanging from the shoreline. It looked even more beautiful from inland looking outwards. There was a motorboat stashed at the landing, though I have no clue if it’s abandoned or actively used.
The portage was pretty easy, both in length and in terrain. There was one small, rocky, muddy section, but otherwise nothing that posed any challenges. The landing at the Merchant Lake end had a tiny fire pit off to the side, presumably from an emergency camp. Water access is blocked by a massive boulder, along with some smaller rocks. It’s possible to keep your feet dry but it’s a lot easier to just step into the water.
I set off onto Merchant Lake at 10:00 AM. I saw a few canoes on the water, not moving too fast. It looked like they were fishing. I realized it was the three canoes from the other day (the two men that landed directly at my campsite). I had a feeling during that encounter that they were heading into Merchant Lake to fish for a few nights. I’m not sure what gave me that suspicion, but I seemed to be correct.
Since all of their canoes were on the water it was hard to tell which campsite they had occupied. I paddled to the two southeastern campsites first, which were both vacant. They each had a few things I liked, along with a few things that I disliked. But neither of them felt right. Sometimes you need to go with your gut and my gut wasn’t feeling it. I was nearby one of the three canoes (thankfully not the one that landed at my campsite!) so I asked where they were setup. They said the western shore, which meant the northern beach campsite was free. I headed straight there.
I wasn’t sure if the beach site would be appropriate considering it was 30 degrees with no clouds and no wind. The beach would be awesome, but it would need to be complemented with some shade as well. I didn’t want to be sitting on the beach, baking in the sun, recreating the Will Ferrell Anchorman meme “milk was a bad choice” but with “beach” instead of “milk”.
The water was still reflecting perfectly, making the paddle across Merchant Lake very pretty. There were a few loons directly beside my boat calling loudly to each other (or maybe to me?) which was the cherry on top.
The beach campsite was very small and was surrounded by low forest with marshy areas, so I can see why most people wouldn’t like it. It was also quite buggy and insecty, relative to what’s normal in mid-September. There was tons of wildlife as well, from birds to chipmunks, and even a grouse. It was such a small site, and there was so much wildlife, I felt like a visitor during my stay. It didn’t feel like home. At any point in time it felt like a large animal was going to walk through the forest and ask what I was doing in their kitchen. The fire pit was also very basic. The beach is the primary attraction of this campsite. Oh, and one bar of cell service if you count that as a positive (I used it to check the weather again, then back on airplane mode).
For me and Elo, it was a cozy, welcoming campsite that provided more than enough for us. My concern about the shade was valid though. There was very little room to take cover from the sun, but I committed to moving my chair around to chase the shade as the sun moved across the sky. Even in the shade, the warm air felt thick and heavy.
I collected some firewood, pitched my tent, and spent way too long doing a food hang. There were a few spots that I liked for the hang, but they were all within a few meters from my tent so I wanted to make sure it was a textbook-perfect hang. Once camp was setup, the game of chasing shade begun. Even when there was shade, it was a thin layer of shade since the tree coverage was minimal. It wasn’t the same as being protected by heavy tree coverage. It was better than nothing, but I was one step closer to recreating that Anchorman meme.
I needed to fill water so I decided to kill two birds with one stone and paddle over to the nearby portage. If there was firewood easily accessible, I would grab some to add to my already massive stash. Plus, the older version of Jeff’s Map showed a campsite at the portage landing, so I wanted to see if it still existed. I walked the trail for two minutes and scanned the shoreline, but the campsite was nowhere to be found. Firewood was nowhere to be found either. The sun was only getting hotter as I spent more time on this mini day trip, which meant I was only getting closer to that Anchorman meme. I promptly headed back to camp.
I spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing and chasing more shade. Instead of chasing shade throughout the campsite, Elo found a shortcut and used the shadows from the fire pit benches to tuck herself under. The perks of being a dog. By 5:00 PM the sun had almost crossed the wide campsite opening, meaning it would start to get blocked by the trees. Did I officially survive past the point of the Anchorman meme? New meme unlocked: No Ragrets.
I made dinner and then set out for a long evening paddle. I knew that one campsite was occupied but I wanted to check out the remaining vacant sites. Based on my planning, it would take around 2 hours with all of the paddling. I crossed to the western shore and checked out the northernmost site. The next site down was occupied by the group, so I continued paddling towards the next campsite. I was getting really tight on time, but I decided to visit the final southernmost campsite on the western shore.
I finished at 7:15 PM, which meant I had roughly 30 to 45 minutes until I wouldn’t be able to navigate easily on the water. I paddled hard and cut through the middle of the lake with my campsite in view in the far-off distance. When I was in the middle of Merchant Lake it randomly got super shallow. I could see the sandy bottom clearly and I was worried that a lurking rock would appear out of nowhere and Titanic my boat. Thankfully, that didn’t happen.
I got a fire going and took my barrel down as soon as I got back to camp. One of the perks of a small campsite is that everything is close together, so chores get done quickly. My body was telling me that maybe I shouldn’t have just done 2 hours of strenuous paddle. Whatever, no ragrets.
Elo had her nose in the air and was sniffing as if she caught a scent of something. She was walking around extra curious for some reason. I’m long past my paranoid days in the backcountry, but this got me slightly on edge. It was also around that time that I remembered it was Friday the 13th. Great. Elo settled down eventually, and so did I. Some quiet music from my phone bedside the fire helped, I think for both of us. A few sips of whiskey probably didn’t hurt either. I kept a very clean camp and hung my barrel early, so I was ready to get into my tent at a moment’s notice. That moment came at 10:00 PM after first spending some time sitting on the beach, enjoying the large, bright moon directly in view.
Day 5 — Merchant Lake to Happy Isle Lake
Don’t you hate when your neighbours have crazy loud sex while you’re trying to sleep? I’m not talking about the group of six men that were camped on the west shore… at least, I hope not. Rather, it was the local Algonquin moose! There was a strong case of “Merchant and Chill” happening early in the morning. At 6:45 AM the initial grunting felt like it vibrated the entire lake, and I wouldn’t be surprised if people on the neighbouring Happy Isle Lake heard it too. Heck, even the people on Lake Opeongo probably heard it, it was so loud! It was probably the loudest sound I’ve ever heard an animal make. I wished that I was filming something at the time so that my video would have gotten interrupted by a moose audio-bomb.
The moose action must have been right at the shoreline. I wondered if it was at the other group’s campsite, or just nearby. The sound definitely came from that direction and was close to that cluster of campsites. It must have scared the crap out of them. The grunts continued sporadically for the next hour while I packed up camp, though slightly quieter as if the moose went inland.
As became routine, I packed up camp while watching the sunrise and appreciating the perfectly reflective shorelines on the still water. The sunrise at this campsite appeared from the far point at the east beach, right where the shoreline begins to curve south. I saw the group of men paddling in the distance, towards the portage back into Happy Isle Lake, meaning they had left their campsite. That was the moment I was waiting for. Their campsite was the only one remaining on Merchant Lake that I hadn’t visited yet.
I paddled slowly to enjoy the now-empty Merchant Lake and its beautiful appearance. The character of the lake comes from the tiny islands scattered throughout. Without those islands, I think the lake would be pretty forgettable. I took my time documenting the campsite and enjoying the views that it had to offer. I sat with Elo at the shoreline for a few minutes to soak it all in. The big puffy clouds were reflecting onto the calm waters, providing an exquisite backdrop while we relaxed at the shoreline. Plus, I was secretly hoping to spot a moose somewhere. It was about an hour since I last heard them make noise, but you never know!
I mentioned previously that there was a short muddy, rocky section on the portage separating Happy Isle Lake and Merchant Lake. Well, that section had it in for me. I almost slipped and wiped out during my first carry with the canoe, and then the same thing happened again during my second carry. I managed to stay upright, but it was a close call.
When I paddled through Happy Isle Lake into Merchant Lake the previous day, I saw groups occupying the two nice peninsula campsites on Happy Isle Lake. Now, I saw the same two groups occupying the same two peninsula campsites as I paddled out of Merchant Lake and back through Happy Isle Lake. I made it to the same island campsite I previously stayed at, and it was vacant. I went on shore and noticed everything looked exactly the same as I left it, including my leftover pile of firewood. No one had camped there during my one night of absence. It was like a glitch in the canoe trip. The entire lake was the exact same as I left it.
I left my campsite at 8:30 AM and I arrived to the island shortly after 11:00 AM. I was moving slowly all morning, yet it was still super early by the time I arrived at camp. I took my time setting up camp, collecting firewood, and enjoying the sunshine. It was another 30-degree day but at least there was a gentle breeze and some light cloud coverage, making the heat much more tolerable.
One of the peninsula groups left their campsite, while the other peninsula group passed by my island to go fishing. A few new groups entered the lake too. One of the beach campsites across from my island got occupied. The single campsite on the west shore across from my island got occupied. There was a group at the other end of my island as well.
The other island occupants claimed both of the side-by-side campsites. They left one of their canoes at the landing of one of the sites, along with a few towels spread out at the shoreline. Maybe they actually had two permits. Or maybe they just didn’t want next-door neighbours and were breaking the rules to ‘claim’ two campsites. Either way, it was a busy evening in the mid-section of Happy Isle Lake.
There was an open section beside my campsite that I believed was an old campsite, sometime long ago. It had a small opening at the shoreline for a canoe landing, and what looked like the last remaining remnants of an old fire pit. The small opening at the shoreline created a gap in the trees with a spectacular view south down Happy Isle Lake, towards the 2.2km portage. The sun was lighting up that shoreline all afternoon, so I brought my chair, camera, and Nalgene, and got comfortable for a few hours.
I did my favourite thing… nothing. I complemented my nothingness with a dirt floor nap beside Elo. Then back to sitting in my chair doing nothing. I sat for maybe three hours and stared out onto the water. When the views are as beautiful as they were, there’s no limit to how long they could hold my attention.
The wind completely died down and it became a windless afternoon. Once again, the shoreline was reflecting perfectly onto the water. Paired with the big fluffy clouds in the sky, it made for a magnificent display. I also thought it was kind of funny that I was indirectly staring at the 2.2km portage all afternoon, like it was some sort of mental preparation before I needed to tackle it the following day.
While I was making dinner, an insane swarm of bugs appeared out of nowhere. I had my face glued to my phone typing out campsite reports, and after a little while I looked up, and bam! I was completely surrounded. Seriously, you need to watch the video for this trip (shameless YouTube plug) to fully grasp just how many bugs there were. With it being golden hour, everything was quiet and still. The bugs looked magical floating in the air. It kind of looked like a fairy tale. I was half expecting my body to rise off my chair and start floating away.
After dinner I went for an agenda-less evening paddle. I had already visited every campsite on Happy Isle Lake during my first two nights on the lake. I circled the island towards the western sites. I saw the sun setting in the distance, the moon rising in the opposite direction, and a few loons swimming nearby. I found my chill spot. I just needed to ignore the occasional noise from the nearby occupied campsites. In all fairness, they were chatting at a respectable level, sound just travels super easily over water.
The sunset was very lovely and I enjoyed watching the moon glow brighter as the sunlight got dimmer. I wasn’t paddling much so the loons became comfortable with my presence and began popping up very close to my canoe. It gave me a great photoshoot.
I came back to my campsite and got a fire going while the prettiest pink colours of the sunset were on display through the small openings of the campsite’s shoreline. I had plenty of wood and I planned on putting it to good use while I ate as many calories as I could. I needed to prepare for the 2.2km portage on Day 6, both in terms of giving myself energy, while also reducing the weight of the barrel. I put out the fire at 10:30 PM and went to bed under the bright light of the near-full moon hanging in the sky.
Day 6 — Happy Isle Lake to Lake Opeongo, North Arm
I had my longest portage ahead of me, and I think my body knew that, because it gave me my best sleep of the trip. The island campsite really felt like home after three nights. Once again, I woke up to a beautiful sunrise outside of my tent door. I packed up camp and got on the water at 8:15 AM. For basically the first time all trip, there was a slight ripple in the water preventing the shoreline from showing its mirror reflection.
The 2.2km portage was long but not too challenging. The landing at Happy Isle Lake is a huge beach and the landing on Lake Opeongo is a small beach and a big dock. Both were very welcoming entrances / exits to the portage. The portage had a few inclines and declines, but nothing too steep. The first incline coming from Happy Isle Lake is a long gradual one, near the beginning of the portage. There’s a canoe resting stop at the top of the hill. It’s early in the portage, but if you need it, it’s there.
The halfway mark of the portage is the open area with a creek that apparently can flood in high water. When I crossed the boardwalk, it was hard to imagine it flooding, but if water levels were maybe 1 to 2 feet higher, I guess it would be possible. There was a small canoe resting stop a few minutes before the creek, and another one directly after the creek. The one after the creek was a large lean-to that could accommodate several canoes at once. The second half of the portage was more flat overall and had a slow gradual decline. There were tons of boardwalks throughout the trail but most of them seemed unnecessary. Maybe I just got lucky with it being particularly dry conditions. The entire thing, with double-carrying and short breaks at either end, took around 1.5 hours.
An Algonquin Outfitters water taxi was dropping off a soloist that flew in from Alberta for a weeklong loop north of Lake Opeongo. I spent some time chatting with the AO staff as well as the soloist. I asked about the nearby campsites on Lake Opeongo and the AO staff told me that some of them were occupied, but he was about to go pick up a group from one of the peninsula sites. That meant the campsite would be mine, if I wanted it.
There was only a gentle breeze (thank you Opeongo gods) under the 30-degree sun as I set off for my paddle. I made it to the vacant campsite and thought it was perfect. A big beach landing sits in front of a large fire pit area with lots of flat seating. The view faces east, meaning the sun would light up the islands in front of the campsite throughout the afternoon as it made its way across the sky to the west. It also meant that the campsite would have lots of afternoon shade, which was exactly what I wanted considering how hot it was outside. It was also protected from the wind, letting through only a gentle breeze into the campsite. Plus, I’d get a great sunrise view from my tent, which I pitched in a little nook at the tip of the peninsula with a window through the trees looking out onto the water.
The forest behind the campsite was open and spacious. It was severely lacking trees to accommodate a food hang, though I did manage to make it work. The campsite was cleaner than I had expected, considering it was a popular site on a popular lake, though I did still need to clean up some small garbage scattered throughout the site. All things considered, I was more than happy to call this place home.
I arrived to the campsite at 11:00 AM and was fully set up shortly after. Almost all of the work for the trip was now done. No more portages. No more setting up camp. I had some small chores like collecting firewood and I still planned on spending lots of time paddling on the water, but the only real ‘work’ left was the final long paddle down Lake Opeongo.
To end the trip, I was planning to paddle the entire length of Lake Opeongo back to my car. However, the lake is infamous for its windy conditions, and creates a big risk for solo paddlers. I had a permit booked for Lake Opeongo’s North Arm for two nights, but I was going to pull a weather forecast in the evening, and based on the wind conditions, I would decide if it made sense to stay for both nights or just one. Whenever the wind was going to be in my favour is when I would attempt the paddle. Lake Opeongo is not a lake I wanted to mess with.
As I sat down in my chair facing the expanse of Lake Opeongo, staring out onto the massive open body of water with islands scattering the landscape, it hit me. A sense of accomplishment and happiness that’s difficult to describe. A feeling that I’m not sure I’ve ever had on such a busy lake with motorboats zipping by. I felt really good. Really happy.
I went for a paddle to fill my water and to check out some of the nearby campsites. It was too gorgeous of a day not to be on the water. I stopped at the two campsites just west of mine, and then the peninsula campsite near the Happy Isle Lake portage. They were all vacant. A family with a few dogs and loud children stopped at one of the campsites for lunch just as I was leaving. The “loud children” isn’t a complaint by the way, they were having fun, and children having fun in Algonquin Park is a good thing!
I was scouting the shorelines while I was checking out the campsites, but I didn’t see any exciting wildlife. I headed back to my campsite and spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing and enjoying the best thing about the campsite… the massive view onto the massive lake. Some of the nearby campsites that I visited were nicer, but none of them had the same incredible view that my campsite offered.
At around 6:00 PM I went for another paddle, basically retracing my steps (strokes?) from earlier. I went past the campsites and towards the Happy Isle Portage to collect some firewood. The amount of firewood that I collected was laughable, in a good way. Seeing the ridiculous amount of wood entirely covering and sticking out from the back of my boat was hilarious. I was more than set for the next two nights. I paddled into the bay beside the portage, hoping that a moose would telepathically recognize that I was sitting and waiting patiently, and decide to come and say hello. Too bad that’s not how wildlife sightings work.
As I rounded the corner of one of the peninsula campsites, I saw the low hanging full moon directly in view and just barely above the shoreline. I think I might have said out loud “Holy shit”. The sun had just crossed the shoreline in the west and the moon had just started rising in the east. There’s this moon illusion—appropriately named the Moon Illusion—which is when the moon looks bigger while it hangs low in the sky near the horizon. In reality, the moon is always the same size, but the Moon Illusion was strong that evening. It was the perfect combination of being a near-full moon and rising at the perfect time before it was too dark outside, meaning I was able to see the entire landscape and shorelines clearly, as the deceivingly oversized moon was glowing above it.
My paddle back to camp took twice as long as it should have, because I kept stopping to stare at the moon. As the light continued to fade, the glow of the moon only grew stronger. When I arrived back to camp and was unloading the copious amounts of firewood, the moon was directly in sight from the wide opening at the front of the campsite. It was shimmering across the lake and providing tons of light.
I worked up a literal sweat breaking down some of the firewood, sawing and batoning until I had a large pile ready for the evening. I worked up another literal sweat sitting in front of the hot fire for the next few hours. It was still in the 20’s outside so a hot fire wasn’t at all necessary, but it did give me something to do in the evening. The moon continued to rise directly in my view the entire time. Can you tell I was completely obsessed with the moonrise that evening?
At 10:30 PM I finally decided to douse the fire and go to bed. The forecast for the next day was going to be in the high 20’s, with practically no wind or cloud coverage. The forecast for the following day was going to be the exact same, except with a small amount of cloud coverage in the morning. If I was going to embark on a 3 to 4 hour paddle to cross Lake Opeongo, I preferred to have some cloud coverage to help with the heat. It looked like things worked out and I was going to stay for both nights, as originally planned.
Day 7 — Rest Day on Lake Opeongo, North Arm
I chose my tent spot because it had an open window in the shoreline facing east, and my choice was validated when I woke up at 6:30 AM to an absolutely beautiful hue of colours directly in front of me. I had a slow morning hanging with Elo while watching the sun appear above Hershey Island in front of my campsite.
I got on the water at 7:30 AM and headed towards Hailstorm Creek. All of the nearby campsites were empty, the water was calm, and motor boats hadn’t begun gracing the water with their presence yet. I looked off into the distance towards the bays between the northern shore campsites, but I didn’t see any wildlife. So, into Hailstorm Creek I went.
I enjoyed the pockets of shade while I could, before the sun rose higher into the sky. Hailstorm Creek was very pretty with lots of varied scenery throughout. I didn’t see any large wildlife, only birds and a few busy beavers. There was a distant shoreline that kept popping into view, and about midway through the creek I arrived to a large open area that provided a wide panoramic view onto that shoreline. It was also where I found easy shore access. I went on shore to take a pee and stretch my legs. The shore access was at the bottom of a steep hill so I climbed up and got an incredible view onto the ‘large open area’ that I mentioned. It was a great vantage point to scan a vast area of Hailstorm Creek.
After my short break on the hill, I decided to turn around and head back. I had been paddling slow while exploring and appreciating the creek, so I had already been on the water for a couple hours. It was 9:30 AM, the sun was getting hotter, and I still needed to paddle out of the creek before Elo started getting restless in the canoe.
I made it out of the creek in much faster time, and stopped at the first campsite on the western shore. I wasn’t too fond of it, so I got back into my canoe and stopped at the next campsite on the western shore. I wasn’t too fond of that one either, so I paddled back to my own campsite. I took advantage of the hot sunny weather and paddled shirtless for the final stretch of my morning journey.
After around 4 hours on the water, I spent the rest of the day relaxing at my campsite. I really loved the phases of light offered at the campsite. In the early morning, it had full exposure to the sun. In the late morning and early afternoon, there were sections of shade and sections with sun exposure. In the late afternoon, it became fully covered with shade. But fear not! I found a side trail that I didn’t notice previously, which led to a secluded private beach facing southwest. It offered the same views as the neighbouring campsites, with a soft sandy beach area large enough for a small group to enjoy. Finding this spot was the cherry on top for this campsite. It really had everything.
To boast some more about this campsite, it also provided the perfect level of comfort for the given forecast. It was an almost 30-degree day and the wind had picked up in the afternoon, but the main area of the campsite was shaded and protected from both the sun and the wind. I watched the strong winds push the water eastward in the distance, but the first 50m or so in front of my campsite was calm. The campsite itself had a moderate breeze, and combined with the shade, it made for a very comfortable setting. And when I did want some more warmth, I would just go to my newfound private west-facing beach.
Lake Opeongo was much quieter compared to the previous day. There were fewer motor boats passing by, and no loud families paddling in front of my campsite. All of the island campsites within my view became vacant, along with all of the nearby campsites to my west. Another soloist came through in the late afternoon and took one of the nearby sites to the west, but other than him, it seemed like every campsite within a 1-2 kilometre radius was empty.
I went for one more paddle in the evening. I passed my new soloist friend James who was enjoying the sunset-viewing rocky shoreline at his campsite. We chatted for a bit and then I headed back to the portage area to look for moose. I heard some rustling in the bushes, but I knew it was realistically chipmunks or something else small. No luck with moose.
My paddle back to my campsite was accompanied by loons following close to my canoe. The sunset colours were behind me and the full moon began rising in front of me. Take everything I said about the moonrise from Night 6, and make it better. Did I say the moon was providing tons of light? Tonight was even brighter. Did I say it was shimmering across the lake? Tonight it was shimmering even stronger. Did I say over and over how beautiful and stunning it was? You guessed it, tonight was even more beautiful and stunning.
I quickly set up my camera when I got back to camp and was able to capture some amazing footage of Elo and I watching the moonrise. I really can’t overstate how incredible my campsite was for the viewing. The opening at the shoreline is so massive and the moon was rising directly in view. I know, I’m repeating myself again from Night 6. I watched the moon rise higher into the sky, staying perfectly in my view the entire time, while I sat by my final fire of the trip. It was a nice treat to end the trip. At 10:00 PM, I finally decided to go to bed.
Day 8 — Paddling Lake Opeongo
I woke up to yet another beautiful sunrise to end the trip. I got out of the tent a bit earlier than usual, so that I could pack up camp and get on the water as early as possible. Crossing Lake Opeongo should take around 3 hours, but I knew it would take me longer with the extra weight of Elo in my boat, plus any breaks I needed to take with her. The perk of the earlier wakeup was getting to watch the entire sunrise from my wide-open campsite, while packing up camp.
I took plenty of photos and videos during the sunrise, so I moved slower than planned. I left my campsite shortly after 7:30 AM. There was zero wind on the lake. No water taxis. No occupied campsites. The vast expanse of Lake Opeongo’s North Arm was all mine.
Now, I might lose some readers because of this next paragraph… but, I put on my earphones at the start of the paddle. I was going to be on the water for several hours, and I decided it was ok to listen to one album and then put the earphones away. I put on my all-time favourite album, In Rainbows. When the song Nude came on, it brought a tear to my eye. I was in the middle of the lake, surrounded by the ripples in the water, the puffy motionless clouds in the sky, the bright sun glowing in front of me, the silhouetted shorelines in the foreground with the hazy shorelines in the background, and scattered islands all over. It was such a magnificent landscape to pair with the music. Go listen to the song Nude (better yet, listen to all of In Rainbows) and you’ll understand!
The section that leads from the North Arm to the South Arm, going through all of the tiny islands, was some of the prettiest paddling I’ve ever done. It was everything I mentioned in the previous paragraph, but with scattered islands surrounding me in all directions. It was beautiful.
The northernmost campsite of the bunch looked like my ideal type of campsite, and seemed like the best option in the area, but it was occupied so I didn’t take any photos. I took “from the water” photos of the next two campsites heading south. The campsite on Fish Island I couldn’t see due to the angle, and also the bright sun coming from that direction. Finally, I took a “from the water” photo of the southernmost campsite that sits in front of the tiny island that had a million birds on it.
I didn’t have time to stop on shore and document all of the island campsites properly, but “from the water” photos would at least give me a general preview of the campsites and their respective shoreline. Despite what the actual campsites looked like, I’d probably be happy camping on any of them, simply just to be in that general region so I could paddle around that gorgeous area every morning and evening.
I crossed the open lake and continued to the southern point with two side-by-side campsites. Both campsites sit among big rocky shorelines, with a huge massive rock cliff between the two sites.
There was still zero wind on the lake. I saw ripples in the water, but I had no idea where they were coming from because I couldn’t feel a damn thing. The forecast called for 2km/hr wind, with gusts up to 4km/hr. That’s virtually nothing. The air movement from my mouth when I talk is probably stronger than 4km/hr! The lack of wind only amplified the heat from the sun. It was some of the hottest 9:00 AM paddling I’ve ever done.
A gentle breeze finally appeared as I rounded the corner, entering the South Arm and approaching the appropriately named “windy point” campsite. It looked like a beautiful campsite with a narrow peninsula exposed to the wind. It offered wide panoramic views, with the fire pit tucked away inland but still visible from the water. It was occupied so I didn’t take any photos, but I exchanged a quick hello with the campers as I paddled by.
I stopped at the campsite two over from the “windy point” site. It was an absolutely beautiful campsite sitting on a large rocky peninsula with perfect views in all directions. It was one of the more aesthetic campsites I’ve come across, but the entire campsite, including the fire pit and tent spots, were completely exposed. It was the perfect place to stop for a break, but I’m not so sure if it would be a good overnight destination, especially on the infamously windy Lake Opeongo.
My soloist friend James passed by while I was taking a break at that campsite. We spoke for a few minutes and then he continued onwards while Elo and I enjoyed a few more minutes sitting in the shade. It had taken me two hours to get to this campsite, which was pretty good timing considering all of the photos I took along the way. The break lasted for 40 minutes, which included time spent documenting the campsite, along with a visit to the thunder box.
The final stretch of paddling through the South Arm was uneventful. I saw some motor boats, some canoes on the water, and paddled by mostly vacant campsites. The sun was getting hotter and I was getting more tired, but everything was tolerable. Elo was lying down on the floor of the canoe for almost the entire journey from our campsite back to the access point. She was living the good life. I arrived back to the access point at 11:30 AM, exactly 4 hours after leaving my campsite. I exchanged a few final words with James, loaded my car, and headed home.
During the drive, I couldn’t stop thinking about the moonrise from the final two nights of the trip. When I got back to the city and walked Elo that evening, I saw the full moon rising in the distance, and it gave me immediate nostalgia for memories that literally just happened. I was already excited and looking forward to my next canoe trip.
The Aftermath
On some of my longer trips, I have so many general thoughts that I find it’s easier to summarize them in bullet points. So here we go:
– The lakes north of Lake Opeongo feel remote given the long portages required to get there, and also considering they weren’t very busy during my trip. But there was an audible sporadic humming from the motorboats on Lake Opeongo. A constant reminder of what wasn’t too far away.
– The water on Happy Isle Lake was exceptionally clear, and Merchant Lake was pretty similar too.
– Forecast wrap-up: the overnight temperatures were very warm for mid-September. Only my first night dropped to single digits but every other ‘nighttime low’ was in the low to mid teens. It was around 20 degrees outside every evening while I sat beside the fire. The temperatures during the days were almost always high 20’s with very little wind or cloud coverage. It only rained one time and it was mostly overnight anyways. For 8 days in mid-September, that’s a damn lucky forecast.
– One of the highlights of the trip was being completely alone for the first two nights, on Redrock Lake and then Happy Isle Lake. Camping solo is a special experience, but being completely alone on a lake is even more memorable and unique. Another highlight was the moonrise during the last two evenings. Words and pictures can’t describe just how beautiful it was, especially with the wide-open east-facing view from my campsite on Lake Opeongo. One more highlight was the reflective shorelines. There was very little wind the entire trip and the constant shoreline reflections were beyond stunning.
– There was sporadic cell service everywhere. At the northernmost peninsula campsite on Happy Isle Lake, at the portage entrance at Merchant Lake, at my Merchant Lake campsite, and at a few spots on Lake Opeongo (less surprising). And that was only when I decided to check, so I could pull a weather forecast. If I wasn’t using airplane mode throughout the trip, I’m sure I would have found even more spots.
– Camping during peak fall colours is obviously incredible, but I also really enjoy earlier trips where I get to witness the start of the colour change. It’s a nice feeling getting to watch the seasons begin to change before my very eyes, over the course of a week.
– I didn’t see any large wildlife but I sure heard it. The “Merchant and Chill” moose grunt probably gave tinnitus to every living thing within a 5-mile radius. There were very vocal owls every single night too, regardless of the lake I was on. They weren’t as loud as the moose, but they sure had some pep in their hoots.
– This trip really made me start to appreciate east-facing campsites. I almost always go for an evening paddle anyways, so regardless, I’d be able to watch the sunset from the water. With east-facing sites, I get to enjoy the early morning light hitting the campsite, and the afternoon light shining on the opposing shoreline in front of the campsite (which is better than having the sun in your eyes and the shoreline becoming silhouetted).
– And finally, a reminder to myself and anyone reading this that ‘rest days’ and ‘short days’ doesn’t mean that the trip has to be easy. Looking at this route on paper would make it seem quite easy since I didn’t travel too far, and the travel days weren’t very long. But with double-carrying portages, it was a fair amount of walking. And with all of the extra paddling and documenting campsites, it added a ton of extra steps and time on the water. I had a few days with almost 20k steps, and I averaged 5-7hrs of paddling each day. I really didn’t have too much free time at all. But all of that was by choice. And I loved every minute of it. My only regret of the trip was not bringing more food and booking a longer itinerary.
