2022 Sunday May 15th, Rain Lake to Jubilee Lake
Though it’s still hardly 8:30 P.M. and the sun is still a long way from disappearing, I’ve retreated into my hammock to write.
It’s my intention to write something every night, usually when I turn into my hammock, though sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night … No cellphone signal here in the bush, and I’m not going to edit any photos until I get home. I’m typing into the Notes app on my phone, and copying the text elsewhere to minimize the chance of losing what I’ve written. What you’re reading now is being finalized a couple of days after we finished these excellent shared experiences!
I’m enjoying the happy back-and-forth of the guys down on the lakeshore, sharing stories, guitar licks and understandings — the joys of being with compatible and welcoming folks outdoors where we are all comfortable. I’m guessing we’ve spent perhaps two hours reviewing the guitar licks from two-chord songs. This common ground is building those relationships that will smooth our way through these six days here in Algonquin — and beyond, I hope.
Spring is bursting out all over up here. The tree canopy is gilded by that warm yellow-green translucence of the season. Red Trilliums are very brightly backlit by the barely-filtered sun. Trout Lilies (yellow stamens) are even finishing on the dry forest floor! Carolina Spring Beauties are everywhere along one of the portages. Lots of Goldthread in flower; some Rose-twisted Stalk, and Hobblebush (with the larger outer ring of flowers around the edge of the flower head) in flower as well.
The Peepers are taking over now as the sky darkens. The robins are cheerily bidding adieu to all, though the other fellows are staying out on the point to chat.
We gathered at 7:30 this morning at Ron’s place outside Orangeville, loaded the two cars with two canoes & one kayak, and headed off in to the sunny warm day. A quick take-out lunch at the Farmer’s Daughter in Huntsville, and to the Rain Lake entry point just after noon. Loaded into the boats and off down the narrow lake with a decent tailwind, certainly enough to clear the blackflies. An easy paddle, and remarkable dry easy short carries. At the campsite on the north shore of Jubilee Lake just after 4 P.M., tents up, firewood gathered, and Ron put the veggies on the fire to grill, ‘found’ a box of fine red wine in the lake, and put the pork chops over the coals. A fine first-day dinner!
A pair of loons passed just off the campsite, pipping to each other now in the gloaming, as the robins settle into a more subtle chirping and the peepers build their insistent courting.
I’m sorry that the clouds have come in as the evening drops. We’re going to miss the total eclipse of the Moon …
Actually … the skies have remained remarkably clear. The full Moon is rising over the glassy water. Only a few Whirligig beetles stir the calmness. And one possible otter. I went out and sat with the rest as we watched for the eclipse to begin. Saw a great passage overhead by the ISS. The eclipse didn’t visibly begin to happen, so about 10:30, we all turned in.
Josh woke up about 12:30 A.M., and watched the eclipse for the better part of an hour!
I should explain about this trip. About a hundred years ago, my father and a fellow theology student hired a native guide to teach them paddling. The guide took them from Dorset into the south end of Algonquin, starting when the ice came off the lakes, and leaving when the bugs became too bad. My father and his friend returned for several years after that, learning on their own.
‘WS’ (or “Will” to his family) was born in 1905 in what was then the outer part of Toronto, just south of the Danforth. He was in the Theology Class of ‘26 at McMaster College, then part of the University of Toronto, which would put him as a young university student in the early 1920s, so it’s possible that this year is the 100th anniversary of his first paddle in the Park. (His first summer pastorate was in Westport when he was possibly only 17.)
I’m treating this anniversary as ‘true’ … though that’s perhaps because I’m not getting any younger, and I’d like to get back to the lakes he paddled on before I’m not able to hoist a canoe onto my shoulders for portaging.