Bonnechere Lakes Loop

I was able to reach the portage into Hilliard Lake in about a half-hour. I had packed in a manner that allowed me to single-carry -- my 125L dry bag on my back and paddles strapped to my canoe that was overhead on my shoulders. This was, of course, dependent on my out-of-shape body's ability to handle the weight with the incline; this portage was pretty much straight uphill for the entire 760m. It looked fairly innocuous from the take-out, so I decided I would give it a try and see how far I could get.  

Apparently, in my then-current condition, the answer to that question was about 400m. As the portage became steeper, I had to have a rest. I looked up at the steady ascent in front of me and decided to part with my canoe for the remainder of the first carry. Whew! 

Just before the put-in, I passed a kayaker portaging the opposite direction down to Cache Lake. I assumed he was on a day trip because he had very little gear with him. I warned him about the red canoe on the side of the trail in the middle of the forest. He gave me a knowing look and said, "Yep, this is a tough one!" I think he was just being kind after noticing the beads of sweat dripping off my face. 

I eventually put in at the east end of Hilliard Lake and began paddling west through the narrow inlet into the main part of the lake.  

As I rounded the bend and entered the first large bay on Hilliard, I could see how this lake might be a great one to camp on. It was pretty. The lake contained two large bays separated by a narrow passage and only had one site on it. I had thought about staying there at the time of booking but wanted to have one less portage to tackle the following day, so I opted to book Delano instead.

I would have loved to stay longer on Hilliard and get at some rainbow trout but the sun was getting low in the sky. I trolled as I paddled it though, and got a strike as I rounded a point. My rod was in my trolling holder and as I reached with exuberance for it after feeling the fish take it, I think I jerked it a bit too quickly; I felt the lure escape free. Grrrrr. 

The sun was hovering just over the tree line by the time I reached the portage into Delano.

I double-carried this one since it was only 350m. It was a good thing, too, because it was very wet and I had to slog through some boot-sucking muck on my way. I wouldn't have wanted the extra weight on me while doing that. 

Thankfully, the good people at Ontario Parks had constructed a little dock at the put-in, which was also very mucky. 

As I approached my site at the east end of Delano, the black flies came out to play. I soon discovered that they weren't biting yet, though. This made me very happy!

The site on Delano didn't look all that great from the water. It was situated next to a bubbling creek (blackflies!) and looked bushy. It was also not a great spot to access. The front of the site that faced the lake had logs and protruding rocks guarding it, so I had to alight my canoe next to the creek on a steep rock that immediately dropped off into the depths of Delano. Once on the site and having a look around, I was pleasantly surprised. It wasn't a bad site at all.  The views over the lake were fantastic, it had a nice firepit (despite the bushcrafty constructions  -- not a big fan of them), and a great spot in the trees to hang my hammock. On the following morning, I took a picture when I had more light. 

By the time I set up my hammock, rounded up a bit of firewood, and had a chilly but very refreshing swim to wash the grime away, night had firmly descended. I got a fantastic fire going, cooked up some steak and potatoes, and enjoyed the view of Delano Lake under a rising full moon -- all to myself. 

Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I was serenaded by a chorus of howling Algonquin wolves to the southwest, who were obviously enjoying the full moon as much as I was. After climbing into my hammock, it was the last thing I heard along with the creek bubbling behind me. Now that's a lullaby!

Click on the link below to learn more about this sub-species of wolves.

https://www.ontario.ca/page/algonquin-wolf

Day 2 - Delano Lake to Phipps Lake

I woke up to a wonderfully clear and sunny day. It was early, but hot already. Was this the second week of May?

I quickly noticed that fish were breaching the surface of the lake near my site, so I hopped in the canoe to see if I could add more protein to my breakfast. I fished for a solid 30 minutes or so, but had no luck. 

I warmed up my pre-cooked scrambled eggs and sizzled some bacon over an open fire. I enjoyed my breakfast with a coffee on the rocky porch at the front of the site. Did I mention how amazing it was to have a  view of an entire glass-like Algonquin lake all to myself? 

I sat there and contemplated the universe for quite some time. It was a beautiful moment of solitude and relaxation. Or maybe it was procrastination; I knew I had a lot of portaging ahead of me that day. 

I was finally packed up, loaded, and paddling west on Delano by 10:00 am. When I arrived at the 965m portage to South Canisbay Lake, situated next to a shallow creek, I gulped. It was straight uphill, over a ridge. I would NOT be single-tripping this one! The immediate vertical onslaught lasted for 150m in distance but rose 40m in elevation. 

On the topic of portaging, please allow me to expound somewhat here for a moment. I don't hate portages. I can't say that I actually like them, I mean, after all, they're hard work and when there are several in succession, they can exhaust and demoralize a canoe tripper in a hurry. Having said that, one reason I love canoe tripping is that it helps me stay physical in an interesting way. Not only are portages a great source of exercise, but they serve an amazing purpose -- they allow me access to beautiful, remote locations. Whenever I've had acquaintances admonish me with comments like, "Why in the world would you want to carry a canoe and heavy gear through bug-infested forests with bears!" I respond by asking them if they are members of a gym or like to jog around their neighbourhoods. If their answer is in the affirmative, I reply with something like, "Why in the world would someone waste energy running on a treadmill or in circles around the block with nowhere to go and with no apparent purpose? At least portaging is taking me somewhere beautiful, remote, and wild. At least there is a purpose and destination to MY exercise!" 

Take this particular portage for instance. In the first 150 meters alone, it would be similar to taking the stairs up to the 12th floor of a building...twice...once with a heavy backpack and again on the second trip with a canoe.  Fun stuff! I was actually reveling in it, believe it or not, at that moment. I can't say I would have the same feeling later in the afternoon after eight of the &%:)ing things though!

After getting to the top of that ridge, the portage gradually descended toward South Canisbay, but only marginally. It was wet and mucky in a number of spots and I slipped and tumbled at one point. Other than a pair of muddy trousers, no harm, no foul. And just to cap this dandy-of-a-stroll off, the put-in was located on the other side of a bog that required some deft footwork to maneuver through without sinking waist-deep into the ooze. Mercifully, I managed to avoid doing that. 

Zoned-out from the heat, I almost stepped on some pitcher plants while loading the boat without seeing them.  

I was itching for a swim and the cool temperatures of Algonquin's waters in May would be just the thing to solve the problem. I just needed to find a location that wasn't too swampy to do that.  I paddled out into Mohawk in search of a swim. 

The portage to Little Mohawk was easily recognized on the south shore and it had a nice shallow entry over a sandy and rocky bottom. That seemed as good a place as any to go for a dip. 

I brought my canoe and gear ashore, filtered some more water, and made a peanut butter and honey wrap. It felt good to have a rest.  I felt like I was the only person on earth in a gorgeous wilderness. I hadn't seen a soul all day. So taking advantage of the fantastic solitude, I stripped down to my birthday suit and waded into the lake. It felt glorious to wash off three portages worth of sweat in 30-degree heat. (Sorry, no photos of the swim, but here is one of the scene of the crime.)

The swim and rest were necessary because I had an 845m portage to get behind me.  Though it was uphill for the vast majority of the walk, the incline was mercifully gradual. This portage proved to be a little less maintained than the previous ones. I had trouble finding the trail at a couple of spots and this was the first time that I had to negotiate any deadfalls on the trip. 

Toward the Little Mohawk Lake end of the carry, there was some wolf poop in the middle of the trail. It was starting to turn white and hairy-looking, denoting that it was likely at least a day old. 

Never get too close to fresh wolf scat because it contains dangerous bacteria that can be inhaled from up to 80cm away. 

Little Mohawk Lake was little more than a pond and fairly unremarkable. It was only minutes before I was once again unloading my canoe.

The 300m portage into Plough Lake was very pretty. It was a refreshing change of landscape as it had some larger hemlock trees en route and followed to the right of a pretty creek for most of the trip. It seemed the terrain was getting rockier and less swampy. Larger conifers were also more prevalent in the forest.

This was even more apparent on the 365m portage from Plough Lake to Cradle Lake. There was one particular massive hemlock leaning to its side just to the right of the trail. It looked large enough to be old growth. 

Out onto Cradle Lake, the first thing I noticed was the incredibly clear water. The lake was larger, sporting cliff-like granite rocks on the shoreline. It felt good to be finished with the pond hopping and back into old-fashioned Algonquin-like territory.

It was starting to cloud over in a hurry, so I made my way to the campsite/portage at the southeast corner of the lake. The site was actually on a strip of land between Cradle Lake and Bonnechere Lake. I was REALLY hoping it would be vacant because I was exhausted. The humidity levels were off the charts at that point and I felt like I had done nothing but portage all day long. By crossing the strip of land at the site into Bonnechere Lake, I would be saving myself about 45 minutes of paddling. Worse still, the wind was picking up and it was certainly feeling like a storm was a-brewing. 

Unfortunately, the site was occupied. Fortunately, it was by a solo paddler who had done the same route I just completed but a day earlier. Knowing how tiring the route was, he generously let me portage through his site into Bonnecherre Lake. I took my canoe over first while chatting with the guy. When I returned with my second load, I noticed my canoe was about 10 feet from shore and drifting away. Between the fatigue I was feeling and not really paying attention because I was talking, I hadn't fully pulled my canoe up on shore. That was mistake number one. 

The second was that my instant reaction was to drop my bag and dive into the lake after the canoe. That in itself wasn't a problem. The issue was that after I had brought my canoe back ashore, I realized that my phone and Zoleo satellite device were in my pocket and had gone swimming with me. I checked both and each seemed to still work, for the time being.  The guy at the site must have thought I was a bit nuts. 

The south end of Bonnechere Lake was beautiful as it emptied into the river system through the Bonnechere Lakes.  I was at the height of land on this loop and it would be downhill for the most part from there on in. 

Just as I was soaking in all the beauty,  a wall of clouds started moving in and large thunderclaps erupted behind me from the west.

I had checked my Zoleo earlier in the day and there was a chance of thunderstorms, but it was supposed to happen a little later in the evening. I quickly paddled for the 175m portage into Phipps Lake. 

By the time I arrived there, the rain started. The portage descended next to a lovely little chute as Bonnechere Lake emptied into the weedy swampland at the west end of Phipps. On my way back to the canoe for my second trip, I took out my phone to snap a photo of the falls -- no dice! My camera on my phone wasn't working. I looked at the lens on the back of the phone and saw water in it. Grrrr! My dive into the lake to retrieve my canoe had come back to haunt me. No photos of the most scenic part of the trip thus far! 

Once onto Phipps, I followed the twisting channel to get through the weeds out onto the lake proper. I could see how this would be an issue at low water levels. By the time I made it out of the weeds, the thunder was going off more loudly and at more regular intervals. I beast paddled to the first site on Phipps which was thankfully vacant at the western end of the large island that dominated the centre of the lake. 

I set up my hammock and bug shelter in record time and even managed to gather some firewood before it got too wet, all while thunder and lightning were crashing and flashing around me. The wind kicked up a bit and it rained for a short while and then the storm kind of disappeared.  I was grateful and a little disappointed all at once. Storms in the backcountry are a little scary but also exciting! This storm had a lot more bark than bite.

It's a shame I can't display the beauty of Phipps Lake and my island site in photos. I had the entire lake to myself once again and it was incredible. Though I ended up having a decent fire that night under a full moon desperately trying to poke through the cloud cover, it sporadically sprinkled here and there. It cleared up enough for me to get out after dinner and do some fishing and I caught a couple of lovely lake trout. (no photo to prove it, the camera still wasn't working!) I let them go as I already had a full belly from the wonderful rehydrated curry and naan that I had eaten for dinner. 

It rained much harder in the night around 3 am but I was snug as a bug in a rug in my hammock. Though the rain kept me up for a bit, I soon drifted off again to that lovely pitter-patter lullaby on the tarp.

Day 3 - Phipps Lake to Cache Lake 

I woke up to glorious sunshine! I tested my camera again in the hopes it dried somewhat over the night and it worked!...sort of. I snapped a photo of the site and this is what it looked like. 

That photo was actually taken in bright light. The water in the camera lens was giving the effect of trying to see through contact lenses first thing in the morning after passing out the previous night and forgetting to take them out (that may or may not be from experience).  Allow me to apologize here for the condition of the photos on the remainder of this trip report!  Here is a (blurry) shot of Phipps Lake from the rocky front porch of my site.

I packed up and was on the water shortly after 9 am. I fished the length of Phipps but did not have the same success that I had enjoyed the previous evening. 

The 60m portage at the east end of Phipps felt like a lift-over after the previous day's shenanigans. It ended next to a very pretty little waterfall, even nicer than the one coming out of Bonnechere. Here is a photo of it enshrouded in mysterious ambiance. 

Who knew that I could create a homemade effects filter on my camera out in the backcountry! 

Kirkwood Lake was another gem and I passed a pair in a canoe travelling in the opposite direction at the far end near the eastern campsite. From there the lake narrowed to a pretty little creek before the 715m portage into Pardee Lake. 

This portage was a downhill trek that dropped 100 feet in elevation. After the previous day of endless ascension and double-tripping each portage, I thought I would tackle this bugger in one go.  I did well for the first 500m or so and passed another party of trippers going the other way (was I doing this loop in the wrong direction?).  I eventually dropped the canoe toward the end because all the rain the previous night had made the trail slick and sticky and I didn't feel like taking a tumble with the extra weight. 

Pardee Lake was another pretty one. I passed the site on the southern shore which didn't look like I'd write home to Mom about. I didn't get close enough to assess the one on the northern side. 

The portage to Harness Lake started at a lovely little beach on Pardee, crossed an adorable little footbridge over a falls, and descended through a pretty forest to the lake. 

Out on Harness Lake, the biggest of the day thus far, I noticed a headwind was beginning to come up. I paddled up through the center of it and saw that the nice site on the eastern side of the island was occupied. It was weird seeing other campers because other than the guy at the site on Cradle Lake, I had been alone for the majority of the last two days. 

Even more interesting was the site on the eastern shore that was also on the Highland Backpacking Trail. There was a massive tree that had toppled and the gnarled roots of that behemoth were upturned and facing the lake. It was quite the dominant feature on the site. I snapped a photo, but the blurriness in the camera lens seemed to worsen as the day wore on. The shot did not turn out. 

The 1035m portage into Head Lake was unremarkable for the most part. The most difficult swampy bits had nice boardwalks built over them. You have to love portaging in Algonquin! 

The portage ended to the left of a bubbling creek that slid over some rapids into a meandering wetland at the south end of Head Lake. There, I had to run a few swifts and lift over a beaver dam before getting into the lake.