CAR CAMPING TRIP TO KILLBEAR, KILLARNEY AND MASSEY PROVINCIAL PARKS AND PHILIP EDWARD ISLAND, SEPTEMBER 7-27, 2017

Blog in Polish/w języku polskim: http://ontario-nature-polish.blogspot.com/2018/08/wycieczka-samochodowo-kepmpngowa-parki.html
More photos from this trip: https://www.flickr.com/photos/jack_1962/albums/72157699705142605

Our trip in Ontario

After coming back 5 days ago from our camping trip in the USA and Ontario (http://ontario-nature.blogspot.com/2018/07/car-camping-trip-across-minnesota.html), we were again ready for another autumn adventure, just in Ontario—both of us drove separately and of course, we took the canoe with us. We had a reservation coming up in Killarney Park in several days and decided to spend this time in Grundy Lake Provincial Park. We left Mississauga early in the morning and our first stop was Parry Sound—we visited our favorite bookstore, “Bearly Used Books”. In the bookstore the radio was on and while Catherine was listening to the weather forecast, it mentioned Killbear Provincial Park—what an excellent idea, we had completely forgotten about this park! After a quick visit to No Frills & Heart Store, we had a traditional lunch under the railway trestle over the Seguin River and proceeded to Killbear. The park employee gave us a list of vacant campsites and we loved one of them, number 1042, it was gorgeous, overlooking the beach and rocks and allowing us to admire spectacular sunsets from our campsites. For some reasons it looked very familiar to me… As Catherine was backing up from the site’s parking, the van’s tailpipe got stuck in the gravel… and then I had the déjà vu moment: in 2014 we had spent one night at this park, camping on a nearby campsite number 1139 (just over the rocky hill from #1042)—but we had also checked out this campsite then and as Catherine had been backing up, exactly the same thing had taken place—her tailpipe had gotten stuck in the gravel!

We drove as fast as we could to the park office, paid for the campsite and soon I was setting up the tent. Usually I can easily do it by myself, but because of strong (and cool) wind, I had to ask Catherine to help me—as well as used the guy lines attached to the fly.

The view from our campsite. Amazing!

This time I brought with me a very absorbing book by Michael Weisskopf “Blood Brothers. Among the Soldiers of Ward 54”. The author, a senior correspondent for Time magazine and a Pulitzer Prize finalist, lost his hand while riding through Bagdad in the back of a U.S. s Army Humvee in 2003. He was sent for treatment to Ward 57 at Walter Reed Medical Center, the wing of the armed forces hospital reserved for amputees, where he met a lot of soldiers who had lost limbs in the war. It was a very powerful book, showing the usually unknown side of any war. Being wounded is one thing—but the recovery process, in many cases, was very long, torturous, painful and frustrating. It certainly presented that part of war we hardly ever think about. At 300 pages, it took me just a few nights to finish the whole book. It was very poignant and emotional.

We stayed at this park for 3 days (until Sunday) and every day went for a hike (a hiking path paralleled the road), saw plenty of deer, I took photographs of interesting-looking mushrooms as well as we spoke with a couple who had just purchased a new small silver camper. The Visitor Center was very nice, too—we chatted with a young employee for a while and she told us that in previous years the park had had plenty of issues with black bears: some had managed to break into locked cars (certainly without using the car keys!) and one bear alone had supposedly been responsible for over 20 such break-ins—it had to be euthanized and now we could see it on display in the Visitor’s Center. Every afternoon we admired sunsets from our campsite and later had a campfire. The campground filled up on Friday, but it was still quiet.

On Saturday we drove back to Parry Sound to do shopping at No Frills and Hart Store, as well as went again the “Bearly Used Books” bookstore, where we spent at least one hour. Catherine bough several autobiographies of Canadian comedy actors and audio disks to listen to on her drive back to the U.S.A. I spotted “The Secret Speech” by Tom Rob Smith, the author of “Child 44” and immediately bought it. Interestingly, but it was in Parry Sound where I had purchased “Child 44” in 2014 and devoured it while we were camping on Franking Island! This was the second part of the trilogy. Although probably not as good as the first one, I kept reading it every night while camping in Killarney and on Philip Edward Island. I also bought Leon Uris’ “Mila 18” and “Holocaust Journey. Travelling in Search of the Past” by Martin Gilbert—both books depicted many places which I knew or was familiar with. We talked to the bookstore’s owner for a while, who told us a lot of fascinating things about Parry Sound and her bookstore. I also spotted a few books authored by Terry Boyle (whom I had met twice, last time at “Gilly’s Restaurant” after the Franklin Island canoeing trip in 2015) and found out that he had passed away on July 11, 2016. He was just 63 years old. So sad-I loved his books about Ontario!

Parry Sound. Our traditional site, under the trestle, where we always have our lunch

We also checked out the abandoned hospital in Parry Sound (a new one had been built since) and a train station. It was closed—nowadays there were just several trains stopping there, going to Toronto and Sudbury.

Catherine just made a new friend, "The Hungry Bear"!

On Sunday, September 10, 2017, we left our splendid campsite at Killbear and drove up north on highway 400 to the Hungry Bear Restaurant, one of our de rigueur stops whenever we were in the area. It was still accessible from the highway, but there was major road construction taking place and when the two-lane road is turned into a freeway, there would be an off-ramp from the freeway leading to the restaurant and the Trading Post. I sincerely hoped that they would still remain in business for many decades!

Our campsite between Lake Carlyle and Terry Lake

Eventually we arrived at Killarney Park’s George Office. Even though we had a reservation, there was a big screw-up with the bill, they kept overcharging us and could not figure out how much we should pay (we had 2 vehicles), but at the end we left the office quite satisfied. I think that all provincial parks should simplify the reservation system so that we did not have to spend so much time lining up in the office—after all, in our case the whole reservation had already been made online months ago.

Our 'canoe parking'

It was very difficult to reserve a site in this park and of course, I had done it a few months prior. Interior camping does not allow to reserve a particular campsite—there were a number of campsites on each lake and in our case, we just booked a campsite on Carlyle & Terry Lake—once we came to the park, we could stay on any campsite that was not occupied. It was our fourth visit to this particular area and we knew which campsite we wanted (altogether, there were a total of 6 campsites). Luckily, all the campsites were vacant, so we got site #55. It was very nice, offering the view of both lakes (Carlyle and Terry) and there was a small waterfall, but whereas those camping on the opposite campsite could see (and especially hear) it, we could not. The only drawback was the very precipitous hill leading up to the campsite. We had to carefully attach the canoe to the rocks & roots and then carry all our equipment up the rugged ridge. I felt ‘at home’ and in no time the tent was up and ready for our habitation and Catherine set up a great kitchen, ready for our gourmet meals!

View from our campsite-from time to time we saw canoes

During our stay we had an excellent weather—it was sunny, not one drop of rain, warm and we did not see too many campers on the lake. Once we talked to an Irish paddler who had sprained her leg and was unable to follow her group on a hiking sally. From the outset Catherine refused to hang the food, but I insisted and after several attempts succeeded in throwing the rope over the branch. Although the food hanging area was relatively close to our tent and fire pit, it was certainly better than just leaving the barrel with food on the ground. We never saw any bears anyway, although twice we heard a very noisy thump or crash—Catherine thought it might have been a bear, but since no other noises followed, we assumed that perhaps a tree or a branch fell to the ground.

Some mornings were very foggy and I was glad Catherine woke me up; I took a lot of lovely photographs. In the evening we paddled towards Johnnie Lake, through a narrow channel, where beavers had made a dam (yet it was not very sturdy and we did not have to lift over the canoe) and we also saw a couple of beaver lodges.

Almost daily we paddled from our campsite to the parking lot (about 30 minutes) and drove to the town of Killarney, where we had fish & chips in the Herbert Fisheries Restaurant. It looked so differently now, as the small school bus (which had become almost a symbol of Killarney) had been gone and a new building had been erected. The food was good, but the décor in the new place was so-so… I think that more old, historical photographs from the area and fishing artifacts would make the place much more original—and it would not take a lot of money. In any case, each time we consumed the food outside, sitting on the dock. We also went to the LCBO store (which sold liquor and beer) and Pittfield’s (the only grocery store in town).

One evening we walked to the Killarney Mountain Lodge, which had just undergone very major & expensive renovations. We ran into Mr. Kelly McAree, General Manager, a very nice, no-nonsense man, with many years of experience in the hospitality industry. Considering that he must have constantly dealt with employees and guests, he certainly had to possess very exceptional qualities to successfully run such a place. He immediately offered to show us the whole property. He even took us to the chalet which used to be the residence of the original owner/builder and his family. The view from the Chalets was breathtaking and they offered very luxurious, yet still rustic experience.

From the hotel’s balcony we spotted a van towing a kayak. He told us it belonged to Traci Lynn Martin (http://www.justaroundthepointe.com/), a brave and extremely adventurous Missouri woman, who had embarked on an 8,600-mile Great Lakes odyssey in March, 2017, hoping to complete it in 2017. According to the “Detroit News”, she stopped her journey in late 2017 because of the rigors of wintry weather on Lake Ontario. Still, she paddled 3,582 miles from March and completed lakes Superior, Huron and Michigan. On October 15, 2017 she became the first person to circumnavigate the three lakes in one calendar year. She said she would try again in 2019. What a spirit!

The next night we went to Killarney Mountain Lodge and had a tasty dinner, sitting outside on the porch.

We also drove to the park and had a hot shower (what a luxury!). Then we did the 4 km Cranberry Bog Trail, which was very picturesque, meandering among bogs, wetlands, marshes and lakes. At one point we had to hike up and then down a very steep, rocky hill. We saw plenty of pretty looking mushrooms. I was quite sure I saw the most deadly mushroom, the Amanita Ocreata, a.k.a. the death angel, destroying angel or angel of death. Once eaten, it causes only a mild gastrointestinal and include abdominal pain, diarrhea and vomiting. They go away after 2–3 days, but all the while the damage to the internal organs us is taking place during this time, leading to a coma, liver & kidney failure, and eventually death. While hiking, we saw the La Cloche Silhouette Trail—there was a sign warning that once you started it, you had to walk for the next 78 km. Even usually courageous Catherine was not interested in following this trail…

We spotted this snapping turtle on the main road as it was trying to cross it. I made a U-turn and helped it safely get to its destination

On two occasions, when we were coming back to the Carlyle Lake access point parking from the town of Killarney, we saw two ladies, who were setting up their cameras on tripods in order to take photographs of the Northern Lights. They were quite surprised that we were going to paddle to our campsite in total darkness! While canoeing back to our campsite, we told the campers staying on campsite #56 about this phenomenon. However, I believe no aurora became visible that night—well, it is a hit or miss.

The new Herbert Fisheries Restaurant in Killarney

September 16/17, 2017 (Saturday/Sunday) was our last night at Killarney. We did want to extend our stay and each day went to the park office, inquiring if any campsites on Carlyle/Terry Lakes had become vacant, but none had, all had been solidly booked-up. On Saturday we left for the town of Killarney late afternoon—there was a lone camper on the site across from ours. When we returned to the Carlyle access point, it was about 9:45 p.m. and we headed to our campsite in total darkness. Although the route was easy and straightforward, as we were approaching the location of the campsite, we had to use my powerful 1,000 lumen flashlight to pinpoint our campsite—we had forgotten to attach a blinking light to a tree, which we usually did and it was always a great idea.

When we were disembarking from the canoe (which was tricky, as the rocks were slippery and it was dark) and unloading our bags, suddenly Catherine gave a shirking, very loud cry, as she spotted one or two water snakes, perfectly visible in the flashlights’ shining light, swimming near the canoe—and she was quite certain that at any moment they would try to jump into the canoe and attack her! I did not much care about the snakes, so I slowly lifted the canoe and pulled it up the sloping, rugged ridge and then tied it to the roots and rocks. Just seconds later I was startled by a very thunderous noise (considering it was so still and quiet around, it sounded absolutely deafening). The canoe simply slid down the ridge, ended up in the water and was slowly, but surely, floating away! It turned out that in the darkness I had not properly attached the rope to the canoe. We had to make a very quick decision. Catherine instantaneously took the initiative, unwaveringly stating,

“I’m not going into the water, no way!”

What a mess! Fortunately, Catherine is responsible for the kitchen

Fortunately, we still had the rope and a few powerful flashlights & headlights. Besides, long ago we had attached reflective stickers on the canoe, so even though it was drifting farther and farther away, we could still see it. I was a little reluctant to swim in total darkness and thought about wearing a lifejacket, but it was impossible: we always left lifejackets in the canoe, so I did not have one—but before I could even contemplate this predicament any further, I took my clothes off and got immersed in the water (forgetting about the water snakes and the legendary Killarney lake monster, if there was one). My headlight shining bright, the rope in one hand, I commenced swimming towards the canoe as Catherine kept shining the 1,000 lumen flashlight, using only 1/3 of its maximum output. I did not know how long it took me to reach the canoe, but once I did, I fastened the rope to the canoe (this time, correctly!) and swam back, pulling the canoe behind. Although the water was quite cool, it was warm outside. Within 10 minutes I was dry, dressed up and sitting near the warm campfire! I felt sorry for the camper at the campsite vis-à-vis ours… he must have thought of us as some total neophytes, with no canoe & camping skills and no outdoors etiquette!

The next several nights we were planning to spend on Philip Edward Island, which still constituted Crown Land. However, first we had to buy from the park office two vehicle stickers to park my car and her van at the Chikanishing access point. There was another major screw-up in the park office and it took us a while to finally make the proper payment.

At 4:00 p.m. we paddled on the Chikanishing creek, but once we reached its mouth, we saw it was windy and the water was relatively rough. Although we were going to set up our tent on the western tip of the island (South Point Island), we still had to paddle across the open water, some 700-800 meters. I kept trying, but each time we were on the open water, we felt the somewhat powerful waves. I still had fresh memories of our paddling the same stretch of the water, when the waves had been so big that from time to time the water had been flowing into the canoe.

We stopped near the mouth of the creek and even considered camping there, not sure if it was the park’s land or Crown Land (later I determined it was the park’s), but I did not like that spot. I pulled out my marine radio and listened to the most recent marine weather forecast—which fortunately said that the wind would subside in the late afternoon! So we waited for a while and in less than one hour ventured out again. I kept the canoe perpendicular to the waves, paddling not towards the island, but towards the open water of Georgian Bay, since the waves were coming from that direction. Eventually we made a sharp left turn, paddled very fast and entered a small narrows between South Point Island and some rocks. After exploring the area, we disembarked on the rocky shore and decided to stay in that pristine spot. On the other side was a family of 2 adults & 2 girls, with 2 golden labs, which came over to our side to say ‘hi’. They were very quiet and we hardly noticed them.

The view was spectacular—whenever I am paddling in that area, I just love the scenery! We set up the tent, but did not have the fire that night. We could admire blinking lighthouses and buoys in front of us. The family left the next day and we wandered at their former campsite and explored the island. We had stayed on a ‘campsite’ located just 50 or so meters in 2012, but this spot was much better. There were plenty of fire pits here and there, as well as broken layers of rocks, indicating that somebody had had a fire there long time ago. We chose one of the existing fire pits because it was large and there was also a primitive table.

The first morning, at about 4:00 a.m., we were awakened by some voices. We looked out the tent and saw a flotilla of canoes, moving towards the parking lot. Each canoe had a glow stick attached and it looked marvelously from our campsite! Of course, the canoers must have left very early to avoid potential winds and waves, which could have made their return journey impossible.

We were planning to stay longer, but the next morning (Tuesday) the weather was iffy—it did not rain, but the sky was cloudy and eventually it did rain a little. I was not concerned about the rain, but rather about the rocks becoming slippery and immediately we decided to pack up and paddle back. At least there was no wind, so we did not have to worry about the non-existent waves.

We went to Herbert Fisheries in Killarney for chips & fish and drove to Point Grondine Park. We had found out about this new park from a brochure, located on Native Land and run by First Nations, and called the number given in the brochure, but there was a recording directing us to their… website! Well, considering that there was no cell coverage in most of the park, it would have been quite difficult to follow their instructions! There was a map and self-serve payment station. We talked to a young guy with a big dog who was about to embark on a long hike—he had encountered problems while trying to make the payment, the machine did not want to accept his money and when we changed some bills for him, he was finally able to pay. There was a guest book and according to recent entries, some tourists, unable to make the payment, left the park. I hope that the management will eliminate those issues which discouraged many potential visitors. I think that there are only hiking trails and a water trail, which includes a 3 km portage—or the ‘portage-less’ loop around Philip Edward Island. Nevertheless, I though it was a great idea to have established the park and I sincerely hope that next year all the glitches would be resolved.

In Chutes Provincial Park, we got the same campsite we had stayed on just one month ago!

We drove to Sudbury, where Catherine went to the TD Bank regarding a money order: unfortunately, she had experienced so many problems with this bank and spent so much time on the phone that the quality of her vacations certainly suffered. And it was a clear fault of a TD Bank employee in Mississauga, who did not enter just one number on the money transfer!

There were plenty of falls and rapids in the park

We also went to Independent (a big grocery store), where we bought plenty of food items bearing the sign of quality (i.e., a pink sticker staying “50% OFF”). Then we drove to Massey, to Chutes Provincial Park—yes, the same park we had camped at just over 2 weeks ago and we even got the same campsite! The park was quite empty—very few people expected that the summer was going to start a couple of months later! Later, we spoke to a park employee, Amanda, who grew up in Massey.

We liked sitting at this scenic campsite, which was just vis-a-vis our

Catherine often went over to the other campsite, which was covered with falling leaves, to have her coffee, listen to the radio or just listen to the nearby falls and meditate. One day we met a young Thai lady with a 13 week old miniature dog (Chow/Australian Sheep Herder), she got it from a breeder and it was ADORABLE! I loved stroking it—its fur so soft! She caught a salmon in the river and wrapped it up to take home. Then her husband came and we chatted with him too. A few days later we again ran into them on the beach, talked to her husband’s father from Sudbury (he was wearing a pink ‘prison suit’’), quite an interesting chap in his 80s.

And this was another spot where we loved sitting, watching the falls and listening to sound of the water

My last book that I started reading at Chutes was “Red Heat: Conspiracy, Murder, and the Cold War in the Caribbean” by Alex von Tunzelmann, which I had picked from a second-hand book store in Toronto. I immediately found the book totally fascinating and captivating—after all, I had been going to Cuba for many years and even in my teens I had been interested in that region and its politics. The book was about the Caribbean (Cuba, Haiti, and the Dominican Republic) and its leaders (Fidel Castro, Che Guevara, Rafael Trujillo and François "Papa Doc") during the presidencies of Eisenhower, Kennedy, and Johnson. The superpowers thought they could use those countries as puppets during the cold war, but what neither bargained on was that their puppets would come to life. I could not put this book down, it was remarkable! By the way, I thought that the author was an older, distinguished looking gentleman, coming from an aristocratic German family. Nothing could be further from the truth: Alex von Tunzelmann was actually a British, Oxford-educated woman historian, born in 1977. And she wrote this exceptional book when she was just 34 years old!

On Sunday, as we were leaving the LCBO store in Massey, we saw about 10 Mennonite horse-drawn carriages on the road leading towards the park. There were plenty of Mennonites in the area—some were even selling home-made pastries at the corner of highways 17 & 553—and on the other corner there was a… how can I call it… a second-hand store with thousands of items, including furniture. The Home Hardware store had a special parking designed for the horse-drawn buggies!

We again walked part of the Twin Bridge trail. The weather, as I said before, gradually kept becoming summer-like, it was sunny and humid and the mercury in Sudbury hit a record of +35C. Several times we drove to Espanola and once Catherine went to the TD Bank there, sat with a consultant, trying to setup cross-border account—for some inexplicable reasons it was NOT possible!

Paddling on the Spanish River in Massey, ON

While in Chutes, we did a number of canoeing trips—it was a great base for paddling on lakes in the vicinity. We drove to Espanola, took Panache Lake Road and parked near the bridge. First we paddled on the Darkies Creek, which soon merged with the Spanish River. It was a lovely, quiet paddle; we did not see any other people around. The ridges along the shores were sandy. From afar we saw the Domtar Paper Mill in Espanola. We still managed to go to Hart, Independent, Canadian Tire and Dollarama for more deals.

Very picturesque road to Willisville

On Thursday we drove to Espanola, then took road number 6 (leading to Manitoulin Island) and turned left, to a small settlement of Willisville. By the way, the road was quite steep, but it was also very scenic and offered awesome views of the area. Once I reached the town, I kept driving on what I though was a regular road, but when that “road” became very narrow and rough, I realized that I was driving on the abandoned railway! So, I had to back up and finally reached Bearskin Resort.

Old train station in Willisville. By permission. Source: http://www.willisville.ca 

Willisville was settled over 100 years ago and at that time the Algoma Eastern Railway was opened from Sudbury to Little Current (on Manitoulin Island). Passenger service to Little Current ended by 1963 and the line itself beyond Espanola went into disuse and abandoned. Nowadays, much of the former right-of-way remains visible and is used in certain areas as a road or path—we spotted a few motorcyclists using it. Many Group of Seven members painted in the area.

The Willis family, from whom the town derives its name. By permission. Source: http://www.willisville.ca 

We parked at Bearskin Lodge & Outfitters and talked for a while with Darcy, who regaled us with many interesting stories from the area and told us that Franklin Carmichael’s (one of the Group of Seven’s members) cabin was on the lake nearby. The Lodge was situated on both sides of the narrows and a small ferry transported tourists to their cabins on the other side of the narrows. It cost us $5 to park the car.

Canoeing near Willisville

We paddled on Frood Lake—there were a lot of rolling, white quartz mountains. Then we paddled on the lake north Bearskin Lodge, reaching a small channel leading to Charloton Lake. There were lots of islands with nice cottages, otherwise known as “camps” up north here. The other day we paddled along the shores of Frood Lake towards the Lawson Quarry, there we saw the former right-of way of the Algoma Eastern Railway. We reached the dam—there were some small, abandoned buildings—and walked a little. I spotted a nice, albeit abandoned and dilapidated house—somebody had sprayed on the door, “Come In”, so we did. It must have been occupied not long ago, but now was deserted and covered with graffiti. I wonder why nobody had bought it—after all, there was a road leading to highway 6. Near the house I walked for a while on the former railway path and there were still some decayed railway ties deep in the ground.

Abandoned house near highway 6

We also drove to Espanola and then to Widgawa Lodge & Outfitters, where were wanted to put in the canoe, but it turned out that the lady charged $20 for parking (vs. $5 at Bearskin Lodge) and there was no accessible dock—we had to carry the canoe over a hill. Besides, I realized that we could reach exactly the same lakes from Bearskin Lodge, so we went there again.

La Cloche Provincial Park

Another day we took La Cloche Lake Road to the very end (upon the park warden’s suggestion) and reached La Cloche Lake—part of this lake was crown land, park a provincial park, part belonged to Sagamok Indian Reserve. It was very hot and sunny and it was very difficult to paddle on the open water, so we headed towards a rocky clearing with a rock table. There was a shady spot where we spent a few hours reading, drinking and then went for an invigorating swim.

Our last paddle was in Massey on the Spanish River, we put in near the old bridge (just the abutments remained). We were told that it used to be a very narrow bridge and had been abandoned decades ago, when the new bridge was built. We turned left into the Sables-Spanish River and paddled to the very end—i.e., three bridges—a train bridge, highway 17 bridge and an old, abandoned arched bridge, now used for foot traffic. As we were paddling back, we started chatting with a fisherman; he was, if my memory serves me well, from Hamilton and retired here with his wife. He loved this area. He said that his wife was volunteering in the Massey Museum—indeed, when we went there the next day, she instantly recognized us (or, to be precise, me) from her husband’s account of his meeting us the day before. We enjoyed a wonderful sunset on the river and I took a lot of photos. Once we arrived at the launch site and were loading the canoe on the car, a big truck drove up and we also saw a 24” pontoon boat on the river—both were waiting for us to drive away. The lady from the truck was Native and we spoke with her for a while—she was getting her Master’s degree at Queen’s University in Entrepreneurship. They just had a fishing tournament with big prizes! I told her that over 10 years ago my friend had won the 1^st price at such a tournament—a car—but he had not been able to even come close to repeating this feat since then. I think that luck always has A LOT to do with succeeding—especially catching a big fish!

The site of the Garnier High School. Only the pedestal remains, on which a statue of Jesus once stood in front of the school's entrance

The day before leaving the park we drove to the town of Spanish, called “the gateway to the north channel”. We drove on Garnier Road to the Spanish Municipal Marina. There was a modern building with fitness facilities as well as a trail which Catherine decided to do—I was waiting for her in the car and had to find a shaded location because it was extremely hot (September 25-unbelievable-over +30C!).

The Garnier High School for Boys, as it looked many years ago. The pedestal, with the statue of Jesus, is visible.

Very close to the marina there used to be two Residential Schools. One was for boys (The St. Peter Claver School and the Garnier High School, operated out of the boys school) and run by Jesuits. The other school, St. Joseph's School for Girls, was run by the Daughters of the Heart of Mary. The Garnier High School (also referred to as “Garnier College”) was closed by 1965 and the Garnier building was demolished in 2004. The St. Joseph's School for Girls closed in 1962 and the building sustained a fire in 1981.

The ruins of St. Joseph's School for Girls

When I had visited that very same area in 1994, I still remember the ruins of the Garnier School, along with the pedestal, albeit empty. According to old photographs of the school, the statue of Jesus, his arms outstretched, used to be there. When we were there in 2017, the school building was gone and the only remnant was that lonesome pedestal. There was also a new granite monument, on which both schools were depicted, with the following inscription:

The Granite Monument

“Dreams flash across the minds of many, gratifying, satisfying, unrelenting, but dreams pass and we find peace at last.” Mae Evelyn Smith, Buswa, a student. “This memorial is in honour of all children who attended these schools.”

An old photo of the two schools-the Garnier High School for Boys and St. Joseph's School for Girls

The building, or rather its shell, that used to house St. Joseph's School for Girls, still stood a few hundred meters from the site of the other school. The statue of St. Joseph was still there. The gate was open, so we entered the premises—I think that somebody was next to the building, the place was quite interesting and we wished we could have talked to the owner.

The residential schools had left a painful legacy and for many years those who attended the schools had often been publicly reminiscing about the years spent there.

Incidentally, since 1994 I have been attending annual Jesuit retreats at Manresa, Pickering, Ontario. Adjacent to the Retreat House is the Jesuit Infirmary (René Goupil House), where most older and infirm Jesuits come there to retire—and eventually die. Over the years I had read their obituaries and from time to time they mentioned that a given Jesuit brother or father used to teach or work at the Spanish Residential School. During my last retreat, at the end of 2017, I was told that only one Jesuit associated with the Residential School in Spanish was still alive and resided in the Jesuit Infirmary.

On our way back to the park, we stopped at Variety Store for ice cream and talked with a French couple who were tandem riding from Vancouver to Quebec City—they started in July. I always have a high regard for such adventurous individuals!

And then inevitably came September 26, 2017, our last day at the park and our last day together, period! After packing up, we went to the Massey Museum, but only spent 10 minutes there, getting low-priced books and videos. Just before noon, after 36 days travelling together, we bid farewell! Catherine drove west to Minnesota; I was on my way to Mississauga. I still stopped at Espanola as Catherine had asked me to buy her some headlights. I also went to The Giant Tiger to buy a simple t-shirt: it was very hot, +32 C, and I had run out of t-shirts, not expecting it would be so hot at that time! Next to the store there were rail tracks, leading from the Domtar Paper Mill towards the south. I believe it was the only existing and seldom used spur of the Algoma Eastern Railway.

I made a quick stop at the Hungry Bear Restaurant and went to the Trading Post and next I arrived at the intersection of highway 69 & road 522, where the Grundy Supply Post used to be located—and where we had purchased our canoe in 2010. Now it was gone, only the rusty shells of the gas dispensers remained. Fortunately, it had just relocated to the entrance of Grundy Lake Provincial Park—most likely the new highway would pass through its former location.

The former location of Grundy Lake Supply Post, at the intersection of Highway 69 & Road 522. In 2010 we bought our canoe here! Fortunately, it moved just 1 km and now is located in front of of the entrance to Grundy Lake Provincial Park

I was planning on spending the night at Six Mile Lake Provincial Park, but soon realized that I would not make it there on time. Instead, I drove to Oastler Lake Provincial Park, several kilometers south of Parry Sound. The park was almost deserted, the park offices were closed and I quickly drove to campsite number 132, where we had stayed once. Since I only had Catherine’s very small ‘emergency tent’, my inflatable matters did not even fit in, but well, it was for only one night, so I kind of made it fit! To make the tent waterproof, I covered it with a tarp. It was still very hot and humid, but the weather forecast called for a much cooler weather from then on—it was a perfect timing to end our vacation where we did.

Campsite #131 in Oastler Lake Provincial Park and my 'emergency' tent, much too small, but OK for just one night

I drove to the park’s office and made a call from the pay phone outside. Then for the first time I heard the train. OMG, it was so noisy! Without any exaggeration, I thought the train would suddenly materialize on the road and run me over, like in some horror movies! I had to postpone the call because it was impossible to hear anything. Then I drove back to the campsite and spent some time reading and sipping wine. Several times I heard the trains (there were two railway tracks very close to the park, one for eastbound, the other one for westbound trains). Whenever the train approached, first I hear the train whistle blowing, it became lauder and lauder and finally I could hear the rhythmic sounds of the train, so acute that sometimes I had a feeling that trains were crisscrossing the park, just next to my tent! I did manage to fall asleep after 1:00 a.m., yet at least once during the night I was awakened by the train. Just before 6:00 a.m. I woke up due to a shrieking train whistles—falling back asleep was pointless, as in no time I heard another train and yet another. I had stayed in this park several times before and honestly, I had no idea why those trains had not bothered me then! I quickly packed up the tent—which was a good idea as it started raining a little—and left the park just after 7:00 am. After making one quick stop at MEC in Barrie, I arrived at home before 11 a.m.

Blog in Polish/w języku polskim: http://ontario-nature-polish.blogspot.com/2018/08/wycieczka-samochodowo-kepmpngowa-parki.html
More photos from this trip: https://www.flickr.com/photos/jack_1962/albums/72157699705142605

Canoeing on Georgian Bay, South of Philip Edward Island, Ontario--August, 2012 (Part II of the Trip)

More photos from this trip: http://www.flickr.com/photos/jack_1962/sets/72157631846528711/
Blog po polsku/in Polish: http://ontario-nature-polish.blogspot.ca/2012/08/na-kanu-na-zatoce-georgian-bay-kolo.html

Ready to commence the second leg of our trip--at the Chikanishing River put-in access point

Having just completed our 6-day long canoe trip on the Key River, Georgian Bay and in French River Provincial Park (see blog http://ontario-nature.blogspot.ca/2012/08/canoeing-on-key-river-and-georgian-bay.html), we drove to the parking at the Chikanishing Creek.  The weather was not very good, it seemed like it might rain—as well as it was windy, yet it was getting a little late (04:00 pm) and we did not have time to wait it out.  There were a few kayakers (day-trippers) and later we had a chat with a nice gentleman who took a couple of photos of us.  We departed at 04:30 pm, thus starting a new leg of our excursion!    Just before our departure, it started raining.  Undeterred, we donned our rain suits and set out.

Our route from the Chikanishing River to our campsite on Jill Island

The weather was our main concern, yet while paddling on the Chikanishing Creek, we felt neither the wind nor the waves.  Once we exited the creek and began paddling on the more and more open waters of Georgian Bay, we started having second doubts as to whether or not we had made the right decision: it was windy, the waves were quite high and the sky looked as if it could keep raining for a while.  First of all, we had to get across the rather exposed channel between the mouth of the Chikanishing Creek and the western tip of Philip Edward Island (about 700 m).  After paddling for about 150 meters we realized that the waves became quite high; not only did we have to paddle very hard, but also had to keep the canoe at a 45 to 90 degree angle, more-less perpendicular to the waves.  We almost wished we had not gone out… but we did and now we were past the point of no return, we had to keep paddling on and hope for the best.  Each time the canoe rose and descended without taking any water, we sighed with relief.  Finally we reached South Point, went into a narrow channel (where we camped last year) and finally were paddling on much calmer and sheltered waters.  We kept as close to the shore as possible, but it was not that easy—often we did not know if the cozy bays turn out to be one-way ‘streets’—the water level was lower than that last year—or prevent us from proceeding due to underwater rocks or shoals.  However, for the first time we had an opportunity to explore the shoreline—usually we ended up paddling far from shore.  We were not out of woods yet—each time we had to cross an even short stretch of open water, the waves immediately became rough and turbulent; what was worse, numerous underwater rocks and sharp rocky reefs caused the waves to rapidly surface as they were constantly battering the rocks and our canoe, which had to proceed just meters from them.  We paddled north of Jaws Island—in the past we always paddled south of it in order to look at a very peculiar, triangular rock, which we had christened “The Kissing Rock”, as Catherine once kissed it! (It looked like a giant Hershey Kiss, but according to Catherine, did not taste like one).  This time, totally absorbed with keeping the canoe safe, we totally forgot the Kissing Rock.

The weather was our main concern...

Soon we arrived at the entrance of Winakaching Bay.  We thought it would be nice to camp in the sheltered bay, but even though we were surrounded by various rocky islands and very elaborate rocky shores, we did not see any suitable camping space.  We paddled on the east side of Crab Island (indeed, it did look like a crab—on the other hand, most of the islands, with their rocky peninsulas and capes resemble some fantastic, multi-legged animals).  It kept raining all the time.  Looking at my GPS and the map, I hoped to find a campsite on the other side of Crab Island, but once we reached its south end, the relentless wind and choppy waves quickly made us go back.  We were happy that we managed to keep the canoe from hitting rocks that poked out of the water everywhere.  Catherine, on the other hand, seemed somewhat oblivious to present danger.

It was raining, windy and the waves made it very difficult for us to paddle

Just across from Crab Island was Le Hayes Island and beside it, Solomon Island, where we camped last year during our trip to the Foxes (http://ontario-nature.blogspot.ca/2011/08/philip-edward-island-and-foxes.html).  We knew there were plenty of nice campsites in that area—but in order to reach Le Hayes Island, we would have to cross yet another 600 m ‘channel’, totally exposed to the winds blowing from the west.  From our vantage point, i.e., Crab Island and Severance Island, the waves did not appear to be that bad… and we decided to make the crossing.  Initially we were doing OK, but suddenly we found ourselves struggling with waves that were higher than those encountered about one hour ago after leaving the Chikanishing Creek.  Because of the direction of the waves, we were unable to paddle straight to the other shore—by doing so we would have been paddling parallel to the waves and in no time our canoe would have capsized.  So, again we had to paddle in an almost opposite direction, just to keep the canoe properly positioned towards the waves.  Instead of paddling to Le Hayes Island, we were paddling towards the open waters of Georgian Bay and close to the Heron Islands, which were incessantly whipped by the foaming waves that rolled over semi-submerged rocks around them.  We had to make a rapid 180 degree turn and ultimately paddle in the direction of Le Hayes Island.  It was not an easy task—the waves were so high that I was afraid once the canoe would be positioned parallel to the waves, even for a few seconds, it could easily be swamped or even overturned.  In fact, two years ago, while paddling around Philip Edward Island, we did such a maneuver and suddenly a big wave washed over the canoe, almost tipping it over.  Yet we had no choice—I tried to find a moment when the waves were relatively low and calm—and upon my signal, we started paddling as hard as possible.  Fortuitously, we succeeded and now were paddling eastward, towards the island.  Moreover, the canoe was now also being pushed by the waves—as the stern wave pushed it, the canoe ascended and then rapidly descended, sliding down on the wave, as if it had an invisible motor.  Later Catherine told me that each time the canoe plummeted, she thought its bow would become submerged and would take on a lot of water.  It did not, but it was a very scary ride for both of us.  We continued paddling as hard as possible and soon were canoeing alongside the shores of Le Hayes Island.  There was a small cove and Catherine wanted to stop there, but I decided to keep paddling for another 200 meters or so and finally we arrived at a small bay at the east side of Le Hayes Island.  I can honestly say that it was the worst paddling experience of my life and we were as close to capsizing as never before.

Looking for a campsite

There was a campsite on this island, accessible from the bay: last year, when we were camping on Solomon Island, a bunch of guys had camped on that very campsite and we could see them from afar.  Catherine went ashore to examine the site, but said it was too far from the shore and it would require us to carry our stuff relatively far.  Since it was raining again—and Catherine was getting cold—we were very eager to find a decent campsite.  We even considered staying on our last year’s spot on Solomon Island (it was an awesome campsite!), yet a group of girls were already camping there.  Catherine talked to them for a while and we paddled off in search of a campsite.

Finally, a double rainbow appeared in the sky

We paddled among numerous islands and rocks and finally reached a large hilly island, with a shore made of flat rock, perfect for a campsite.  According to my map, it was Jill Island, although I do not think it was an island anymore—the existing isthmus was probably very shallow and overgrown by now.  We saw plenty of small, picturesque rocky islands popping up from the water; Solomon Island and the distinctive pine that appeared in many of my photos last year loomed not far from us, as well as we could observe Blockbuster Island, Lowe Island and even some Fox Islands.  Although it stopped raining and a beautiful, double rainbow appeared in the sky, there were also black clouds here and there, with distinctive ‘descending’ rain patterns.  Very quickly I set up the tent on the barren rock, using plenty of rocks as pegs—it was windy and we had to secure it so that it would not be blown away!  Later I built a fire pit—due to the unrelenting wind, I had to make sure it was as sheltered as possible; luckily, there were plenty of flat rocks which made perfect shields.  Later we went for a short jaunt around the campsite and climbed the hill.  The view was striking, we even saw part of West Fox Island where we camped last year.  There were several fire pits, but they were in areas so exposed to the wind that it was impossible to use them.

Our awesome campsite on Jill Island! (N45 57.980 W81 21.005)

That evening we genuinely enjoyed the campfire—after all, altogether we paddled 29 km and survived very bad weather.  When it got dark, the sky became very clear and I took several night photos—the moon, in its waxing crescent phase, appeared for a short time after the sunset and then was gone, so the stars and the Milky Way were perfectly visible.  Several times we saw satellites, quickly crisscrossing the sky—one of those objects was extraordinarily bright—I suspected it was the International Space Station.  The girls on the Solomon Island campsite were shooting fireworks as well as released a bright lantern that slowly floated up in the air and finally vanished beyond the forest canopy.

View from the top of Jill Island.  Very distinctive pine tree located vis-a-vis the Solomon Island campsite we stayed on in 2011--we could see it from our campsite on Jill Island too!

Of course, we were planning to do several canoeing excursions, but as before, the weather not always cooperated.  Thus, the next day we stayed on our campsite, reading, sun tanning, swimming and exploring our island; we also took a bunch of photograph from the top of the hill.  In the evening we heard motor boats and lake cruisers, but hardly ever saw them.  One night, after the darkness fell, I heard a motorboat and soon saw its flickering lights as it was swiftly maneuvering among the islands.  Since our canoe, in spite of our attentiveness, occasionally bumped into an invisible, underwater rock, I was quite surprised by the boat’s speed.

“They must be local fishermen”, I said to Catherine, “and must know the area quite well. But even if I knew it very well, I’d be afraid to go so fast, there are so many rocks everywhere.”

In literally two or three seconds after I uttered those prophetic words, we heard a dull thump, the sound of the engine suddenly died off—and only after a few minutes the boat started to move, albeit very slowly and quietly (maybe this time it was using a small electric trolling motor).

Catherine on the top of Jill Island

A few weeks before our trip I got interested in “Geocaching”, an outdoor recreational activity in which the participants use a Global Positioning System (GPS) receiver or mobile device and other navigational techniques to hide and seek containers, called “geocaches” or “caches”, anywhere in the world.  Initially I wanted to hide a few caches around the Key River and Philip Edward Island, but when I realized that once I did it, I would have an obligation to maintain my caches, I decided against it.  However, there were two geocaches hidden ‘just around the corner’—one on Solomon Island, another one on Martins Island (one of the Fox Islands).  Catherina also got curious about this activity and we decided to go to Solomon Island and find it.

Our 2011 campsite on Solomon Island

First of all, we paddled to a small bay just across Solomon Island where a few days ago we had seen a house boat docked there.  Indeed, it was still there and it was certainly not going anywhere!  It was not a typical houseboat—somebody (probably he also owned property there) made a simple house on aluminum floats and moved it to the bay when the water level was much higher—now it was almost resting on the rocks.  We took a few photos of this inventive creation and paddled to Solomon Island.  The girls had been gone, leaving behind a Canadian flag.  So, we re-visited our old campsite and took a few photos.  We also noticed a few people camping on Le Hayes Island.

Spectacular view from the summit of Solomon Island!

According to my GPS unit, the geocache (called ‘Georgian Bay Delight’) was located in the middle of the island, on its highest point.  We slowly made our way up, carefully hiking on rocks and finally reached the summit.  WOW, what a magnificent, spectacular 360 degree view!!!  I started to take a lot of photographs and had almost forgotten about finding the geocache.  Anyway, it was supposed to be in the island’s highest location, where a few pine trees were growing (we could see them from our campsite).  Catherine and I kept looking and looking… and finally I found it!  It was a perfect location to place a geocache—even if I had not found it, the view was priceless—it was like being in some kind of fantasy land, surrounded by multitudes of pinkish rocks and islands, with wind-swept pines everywhere.  Not only did we see our campsite, but also the Foxes, Philip Edward Island, the majestic La Cloche Mountains with their characteristic white quartz resembling snow and the mountains’ most prominent peaks, the Crack and Silver Peak; the town of Killarney, Manitoulin Island and probably the shores along the mouth(s) of the French River.  Just meters from the geocache location we found a poignant monument dedicated to “Rocky, the canoe dog”.

View from the top of Solomon Island--we could even see our campsite on Jill Island!

When we circumnavigated Philip Edward Island 2 years ago, in August, 2010, in my blog about that trip (http://ontario-nature.blogspot.ca/2010/08/canoeing-around-philip-edward-island.html) I quoted passages from a book by Anna Brownell Jameson (1794-1860), a British writer, who in 1837 travelled, mainly in a canoe, from Sault Ste. Marie to Toronto, visiting such places as Manitoulin Island and the site of the town of Killarney, as well as along the shores of Georgian Bay, just south of Philip Edward Island and near the mouth of the French River.  During her extensive travels she was thrown “into scenes and regions hitherto undescribed by any traveler and into relations with the Indian tribes such as few European women of refined and civilized habits have ever risked and none have recorded”.

The result was her book titled “Winter Studies and Summer Rambles in Canada”, published after her return to England.  This book gives a very vivid picture of the area, people and customs of the time.

On the top of Solomon Island, after finding the geocache

While travelling south of Philip Edward Island towards the south, Anna Jameson also appreciated the beauty of the area:

“This day we had a most delightful run among hundreds of islands; sometimes darting through narrow rocky channels, so narrow that I could not see the water on either side of the canoe; and then emerging, we glided through vast fields of white water-lilies; it was perpetual variety, perpetual beauty, perpetual delight and enchantment, from hour to hour. The men sang their gay French songs, the other canoe joining in the chorus”.

And later, she wrote:

“We landed at sunset on a flat ledge of rock, free from bushes, which we avoided as much as possible for fear of mosquitoes and rattle-snakes; and while the men pitched the marquees and cooked supper, I walked and mused. I wish I could give you the least idea of the beauty of this evening; but while I try to put in words what was before me, the sense of its ineffable loveliness overpowers me now, even as it did then. (...) The lake lay weltering under the western sky like a bath of molten gold; the rocky islands which studded its surface were of a dense purple, except where their edges seemed fringed with fire. They assumed to the visionary eye, strange forms; some were like great horned beetles, some like turtles, some like crocodiles, and some like sleeping whales and winged fishes; the foliage upon them resembled dorsal fins, and sometimes tufts of feathers. Then, as the purple shadows came darkening from the east, the young crescent moon showed herself, flinging a paly splendor over the water. I remember standing on the shore, ‘my spirits as in a dream were all bound up’—overcome by such an intense feeling of the beautiful—such a deep adoration for the power that had created it, I must have suffocated if—

But why tell you this?”

Sketch by Anna B. Jameson "Night Encampment"  made on August 6, 1837

Even though those words were written over 170 years ago, the splendor and beauty of the area, as well as the emotions they stir have not changed!

While admiring the spectacular beauty of the surrounding area, we spotted a few black clouds with distinctive descending rain patters—yes, it was raining over Manitoulin Island and we were not sure if that dark mass would not move over here.  So we commenced our descent on the steep rocks.  At one point Catherine got scared by a large, albeit harmless garter snake, our third snake during the whole trip.  We got into the canoe and paddled to the campsite, but it did not rain that day.

View from Solomon Island towards Manitoulin Island--it was raining there!

The next day we were up early in the morning and before 10:00 am hopped into the canoe and paddled back to the car—no, it was not the end of our trip yet; we left the tent and most of our belongings on the campsite—we just wanted to visit the town of Killarney, go to the famous Herbert Fisheries Restaurant, buy fish and chips and get cold beer.  It took us under 2 hours to reach the Chikanishing parking lot—we briefly stopped at the Kissing Rock and took a few photos around it.  At the parking lot we chained the canoe to the dock and first of all, drove to Killarney Park where we had a very refreshing shower!  Later we drove to the town of Killarney where we got an excellent (and expensive) fish and chip dinner, bought two cans of cold beer and sitting at the LCBO dock, enjoyed our food and drinks while observing passing boats in Killarney Channel.  I wrote a little about the history of this town in my 2010 Philip Edward Island Blog, but let me once again mention it here.

Catherine and the Kissing Rock

Because of its natural channel between Killarney Island and the mainland and because it was located on the main canoe route to the west, this location was known and used by both Natives and white explorers as a shelter.  Such men as LaSalle, Marquette, Etienne Brule as well as many fur trades and explores passed through the channel.  That was why Killarney’s earliest name, in the Ojibwa language, was Shebahonaning, meaning “safe canoe passage”.  In 1820 Etienne Augustin de la Morandiere established a small trading post there.  His wife, Josephte Sai-sai-go-no-kwe, ‘Woman of the falling snow’, was from the Odawa (Ottawa) Nation and a close relative of the famous Chief Tecumseh.  In 1854 a post office was opened.  The town had only been accessible by water—and later by air—until 1962, when the present highway no. 637 was built.

Life in this isolated town must have often been tough and difficult, yet a lot of ships visited Killarney, picking up fish and later, bringing tourists.  In the winter it was possible to reach towns and communities on Manitoulin Island as well as traverse south to Byng Inlet.

Old fishing shed in Killarney, built at the end of the 19th century

A website about Killarney’s history created by Adele Loosemore (http://www.killarneyhistory.com/) recounts one interesting story about mail delivery to Killarney:

“Killarney was on the mail route from Penetanguishene to Sault Ste. Marie...on the 25^th of November 1872, John Egan, contractor for carrying the mail, despatched two Wikwemikong Indians with the Soo mail for Penetang. They were Beaubien and his son-in-law, Moses Ganewebi. They fell in a storm and made very slow headway. On the return trip, on the 18^th of December following, Moses arrived here from Byng Inlet with Alexandre Proulx and Pierre Pilon. He had the following story to tell:

I and my father-in-law were walking on the new ice, a few miles past Byng Inlet, intending to get ashore at a point a little further on. The wind was increasing from the northwest. We noticed that the ice was fast drifting from shore. We both ran towards the shore, but the ice had already moved several feet away and we could not get back to the land. I jumped into the water and swam ashore to a small island about an acre in size.

My father-in-law laid the mail bags on the ice, sat down on them, and waving his hands to me, bid me good-bye forever, with compliments for his friends of Shebwaonaning (Killarney) and Wikwemikong. As the ice was drifting fast, poor Beaubien was soon lost out of sight.

I remained on the island for two days and two nights without food or fire, tramping and running all this time to keep from freezing. At last some new ice formed, and with the help of two poles, I crawled on my hands and knees to the mainland and reached Byng Inlet, where I was well taken care of for a few days, and here I am.

In August, 1837, during her canoe journey from Sault Ste. Marie to Toronto, Anna B. Jameson passed through the narrow channel between George Island and the mainland, where the present day town of Killarney is located.   This is how she described this event:



"The chief Yellowhead Encampment on Lake Huron"--sketch by Anna B. Jameson depicting Killarney Channel and the encampment she described in her book

“About sunset, we came to the hut of a fur-trader, whose name I think, was Lemorondiere. It was on the shore of a beautiful channel running between the mainland and a large island. On a neighboring point, Wai,sow,win,de,bay (the Yellow-head) and his people were building their wigwams for the night. The appearance was most picturesque, particularly when the camp fires were lighted and the night came on.”

And so 175 years later we were now sitting on the shores of this channel and enjoying its beauty!  Later we went to a museum in Killarney (located vis-à-vis the Post Office and next to an old jail) and spent almost an hour there, looking at many artifacts, photos and historical records.  Later that day we visited the cemetery, located at the back of an impressive Roman Catholic Church resembling a lighthouse.  A lot of people buried there were the descendants of the founder of Killarney and had the surname “La Morandiere” (we were told that the town’s founder, Etienne Augustin de la Morandiere, was also buried there, but we could not locate his grave; later I read that he was buried in Wikwemikong on Manitoulin Island).  We found a grave of Nancy Solomon Pitfield—there was a small park named after her (which last year we used to launch our canoe), with the following inscription on a plaque attached to a boulder in the park:

Killarney Channel

Nancy Solomon Pitfield, October 21, 1885—August 11, 1965.  For nearly half a century, “Aunt” Nancy Pitfield was Killarney’s angel of mercy. Born in this community, she studied nursing in Winnipeg and Montreal, where she graduated from Hotel Dieu Hospital.  She returned to this then isolated village and married George Pitfield in 1919.  She dealt with grave illnesses and accidents without the aid of a doctor, sometimes reaching outlying patients by dogsled or snowshoes.  She expertly set dislocated hips and knees, delivered 512 babies, and once performed an emergency appendectomy, always with an encouraging word and a smile. Remembered always for her dedication and love for people.

There were many Solomons buried in the cemetery and most likely Solomon Island was named after one of them.  According to the website about the history of Killarney, http://www.killarneyhistory.com/, the forefather of all the Solomons of Killarney was Ezekiel Solomon, the first Jewish immigrant to settle in what is now the U.S. state of Michigan.  He was born around 1735 in Berlin, Germany and arrived at Mackinac Island, in the narrows between Lakes Michigan and Huron, in 1761 and quickly established himself as a fur trader.  By 1765, he and his partner were operating the Solomon-Levy Trading House at Fort Michilimackinac, then a British military post. In 1779, he joined a group of businessmen to open a general store there.  Ezekiel married Louise Dubois, also called Okimabinesikwe, a Roman Catholic, and they had six children.  As the Americans and British battled over various lands at the head of the Lakes, Ezekiel re-established his business, first at St. Joseph Island, then Drummond Island, to avoid coming under American rule.  Ezekiel died around 1808.  All of the locations at which he had operated his businesses were eventually turned over to the Americans.  In 1828, the Solomons still living at Drummond Island migrated to Penetanguishene when the British garrison transferred there.  The Killarney Solomons are all descended from William (third son of Ezekiel and Louise) and Agibicocona.

Town of Killarney

We also went to Pitfield’s, the town’s only general store and later to Killarney Mountain Lodge (originally built as a trucking magnate retreat, it saw a lot of famous guests, Jimmy Hoffa of Teamsters fame being one of them).  As I was waiting for Catherine in the restaurant lounge, I noticed a bulky (260 pages), hardcover book on history of Killarney area, “Georgian Bay Jewel: The Killarney Story” by Margaret E. Derry.  After having a browse through it, I found it so fascinating that later Catherine bought it for me as my birthday gift (and I was not disappointed—I spent hours perusing this fascinating book and admiring many captivating photographs, paintings and sketches that greatly enriched my reading experience; it can be ordered from http://www.poplarlane.net/).

We drove back to the Chikanishing Creek, loaded the canoe and in no time were paddling back to our campsite—this time the wind was rather light and we did not have to worry about anything happening to the canoe!

Paddling from our Jill Island campsite to Martin Island and back

The next day (August 22, 2012) we were planning to go to Martins Island in the evening to look for the geocache, but the wind was too strong—the trip would require paddling on a few stretches of open water.  We decided to go to bed early, get up in the morning the next day and go paddling.

View from our campsite on Jill Island in the morning

Indeed, we were up before 06:00 am.  There was no wind whatsoever and we sat on the rock for a while, having breakfast and enjoying the sunrise, the mirror-like water surface and the surrounding landscape.  Again, I remembered how Anna Brownell Jameson described having breakfast on the morning after leaving Killarney and canoeing somewhere close to the area we were staying in:

Sketch by Anna B. Jameson "Dinning". It was made on August 8, 1837, just after she left the site of Killarney Channel

“We breakfasted this morning on a little island of exceeding beauty, rising precipitately from the water. In front we had the open lake, lying blue, and bright, and serene, under the morning sky, and the eastern extremity of the Manitoolin Island; and islands all around as far as we could see. The feeling of remoteness, of the profound solitude, added to the sentiment of beauty: it was nature in her first freshness and innocence, as she came from the hand of her Maker, and before she had been sighed upon by humanity—defiled at once, and sanctified by the contact. Our little island abounded with beautiful shrubs, flowers, green mosses, and scarlet lichens. I found a tiny recess, where I made my bath and toilette very comfortably. On returning, I found breakfast laid on a piece of rock; my seat, with my pillow and cloak all nicely arranged, and a bouquet of flowers lying on it. This was a never-failing ‘galanterie’, sometimes from one, sometimes from another of my numerous cavaliers’”.

Who knows, maybe it was the island we were staying on?

Before 07:00 am we were on the water and commenced paddling towards Lowe Island, which was 10 minutes from our campsite.  On this island, as well as on another island just south-west of it, stood some dwellings.  We tried to paddle across the channel between the islands, but it was too shallow, so we went around the small island and entered the ‘narrows’ from the other direction.  There was a beaver lodge—and a beaver lazily swimming nearby.  The building on Lowe Island resembled a small resort, yet nobody was there.  Perhaps it was a private fishing/hunting club, which member can use whenever they want.

Martins Island

Next we paddled to East Fox Island and then towards Martins Island.  Last year, having spent a couple of nights on Solomon Island due to the windy weather, we finally paddled early in the morning to West Fox Island and took almost exactly the same route as we were taking today.  It is difficult to describe the beauty of those small, round islands, popping out of the water as if pushed by volcanic explosions, polished and smooth, resembling water slides.  There were a few campers at several location of Martins Island.  We got into a big bay on the east side of Martins Island; there were plenty of stones and rocks along the shore, as well as it was very slippery, so we had to be careful getting out of the canoe and pulling the canoe on land.  Once it was secured (well, we did lose it twice before, it simply floated away!), we walked up a steep but short incline where the geocache was located.  The view was awesome—we saw West Fox Island and our last year’s campsite, as well as Green Island and many other rocky islands.  The geocache, called “The Spider Tree”, was supposed to be (according to the GPS coordinates) at the location of a pine tree whose branches resembled a spider.  There were plenty of cracks and crevices around the tree, so I thought the cache was located somewhere there.  Since there were two campers nearby, we did not want to disturb them—undoubtedly they were wondering what the heck we were doing!  Anyway, we spent over one hour searching every nook, crevice, crack and cranny around the tree, but to no avail.  We checked the tree itself—as well as examined adjoining trees and crevices, but found no trace of anything resembling a geocache.  Unfortunately, I forgot to bring a printout of the geocache’s description (which actually said “white pine”), but I do not know if it would have helped me—after all, I searched the area in the 5-10 meters from the GPS coordinates.  Well, eventually we did not find it, but it was absolutely worth to make this jaunt on such a beautiful morning!  We descended the hill to the canoe and paddled around Martins Island, stopping for a moment near a good spot for a campsite (Catherine had surveyed it last year) and then leisurely paddled back to the campsite.

Relaxing on Jill Island... simply Paradise!

We decided to pack up later today and paddle to another campsite in the evening (the same one we stayed on two years ago in 2010) on Philip Edward Island, just across from the mouth of the Chikanishing Creek.  We left our charming campsite at about 05:00 and arrived at the new campsite at about 06:30 pm.  The water level was visibly lower—there were two big rocks sticking out of the water—I remember that two years ago they were underwater.  I was very disappointed when I saw the big fire pit—there was plenty of refuse, broken beer bottles and other garbage inside; it was in such a bad shape that another fire pit was built meters from the big one.  Yet even the ‘new’ one already had plenty of glass inside, which we carefully removed.  It reminded me of one of “The Simpsons” episodes (“Trash of the Titans”).  Homer became the Sanitation Commissioner and of course, soon the results of his disastrous reign were evident!  To make the story short, in a little while the city of Springfield was wallowing in the trash.  Since no one was willing to clean up the trash, the mayor simply decided to move the entire town a few miles down the road.  Prophetically, Lisa predicted that once Springfield moved to the new location, its residents would begin littering all over again.

Our last campsite on Philip Edward Island.  We camped here at the end of our trip around Philip Edward Island in August, 2010

We quickly set up the small, emergency tent, put our mattresses and sleeping bags inside, hopped into the canoe, paddled to the car and drove to the town of Killarney.  Again we had fish and chips at Herbert Fisheries as well as I reserved 2 lb. of smoked fish, to be picked up tomorrow.  I spoke to the restaurant’s owner’s brother who told me that commercial fishermen had to buy special ‘quotas’ which allowed them to catch a certain quantity of fish every year—but the restaurant’s owner had plenty of quotas, he assured me—the restaurant was not going to run out of fish!  In fact, it was the only commercial fishing operation in Killarney—difficult to believe, as fishing was the main business in this town in the past!  Normally the fishermen were catching White Fish (which was served in the restaurant), but sometimes they accidentally caught such fish as pike or even sturgeon—pikes were released as they were game fish; sturgeon fishing, even for recreational fishermen, was banned in Ontario several years ago and thus they had to be released (not that I know anyone who has ever caught a sturgeon or actively tried to catch one).  Incidentally, sturgeon fishing was very popular in Ontario in the 19^th and early 20^th century, some specimens reached many meters in length and weighted hundreds of kilograms.  According to several witnesses, not long ago there were sightings of the so-called “Mazinaw Lake Monster” in Lake Mazinaw in Bon Echo Provincial Park in Ontario.  Some biologists think that the sightings might have been genuine—Lake Mazinaw is one of the deepest lakes in southern Ontario (about 180 meters deep) and it is possible for a huge sturgeon to still live there.

Herbert Fisheries

When I was in Killarney two days ago, I saw a few huge otters, playing around the fishing boat—they a little tame (yet still wild—it was just enough for me to take a look at their teeth) and no doubt, fed on the discarded fish parts!  This time the fishing boat, docked at the back of the restaurant, was thoroughly cleaned and empty, ready to set out on Georgian Bay in the morning.

It was almost 08:00 pm and everything in Killarney was closing.  We walked down the main street and then drove a little on several side streets.  Apparently, most businesses close down for the winter and their owners leave town, either going to bigger Canadian cities, or migrating to the southern, warmer parts of the USA, as hundreds of thousands of Canadians, so called ‘snow birds’, do every year.

View from Jill Island at nigh

When we arrived at the parking lot, it was almost dark and nobody else was around.  As we were loading the canoe, using our headlights, we heard a sound of a motorboat engine and finally discerned in the darkness a motorboat slowly moving towards the dock on the Chikanishing Creek; apparently neither the boat nor its several occupants had any flashlights (???) and they seemingly had problems with getting it from the water and placing on a truck trailer.  When we finally parked the car and got into the canoe, it was 09:15 pm and completely dark.  The wind was negligible and we did not see or hear any boat lights around, only some navigational lights kept flashing at regular intervals.  Nevertheless we wore our lit headlights, just in case, and paddled towards the location of the campsite (I was glad I had a lit GPS unit—normally we leave a cheap flashing LED light on the campsite which guides us to the right location).  Eventually we reached the campsite, but not before the canoe hit one of the two rocks sticking out of the water!  In no time I started a fire and we grilled a bunch of sausages purchased the other day from Pitfield’s!  It was our last night and we really enjoyed sitting around the fire.

Old ring at our campsite on Philip Edward Island--such rings were used over 100 years ago by logging companies

Next day we were up in the late morning and since most of our stuff had already been loaded into the car, there was not that much to pack up.  We departed after noon and paddled along the other shore for a while, where the Chikanishing Trail ran.  Catherine had wanted several times to hike the trail, but never had the time to do it.  At the parking lot there were a lot of people launching their boats or taking them out.  Once we loaded the car (which is never easy—for some inexplicable reasons, we always seem to have more stuff at the end of our trip than we do at the beginning), we drove to Killarney.  I picked up my smoked fish from Hebert Fisheries, Catherine bought one portion of French fries and cold beer which we had while sitting on the dock.  On our way back we stopped at Killarney Park, had a shower and changed our clothes.  Catherine also bought me the book about Killarney, “Georgian Bay Jewel: The Killarney Story” by Margaret E. Derry and later wrote a nice dedication for my 50^th birthday.

The new map of the French River area near the Hungry Bear Restaurant

We stopped (again!) at the Hungry Bear Restaurant, where we met the Hungry Bear and Blueberry Hound.  I had just soup with bun and a cup of coffee.  We also went to the Trading Post—indeed, some of the items it had were absolutely amazing (like cups/plates/ties with Benjamin Chee Chee paintings, carvings, original T-shirts, books, videos), but in my opinion they were hugely overpriced.  The ride home was quite good—however, we saw a very old bus (which was more fit to be in a museum than driving on a main road) which was using the 90 km/h highway and crawling at a speed of maybe 20 km/h, some drivers had to do a lot of breaking in order not to hit it—and then on highway #400, just before the King Road exit, we ran into a traffic jam caused by road construction.  I remember seeing a truck towing a boat with an outboard motor, it slowly passed me on the left and I was looking at the boat for a while.  Just minutes later, as everybody was slowing down due to the traffic congestion, evidently somebody did not manage to bring his (or her?) car to the stop and rear-ended the trailer with the boat.  I had no idea if there was any serious damage, but I did see some people getting from their cars and assessing the situation… since the accident occurred just as the King Street exit lane commenced, I decided to exit and took King Street which eventually got us home.

Enjoying ice-cream at the parking lot of the Hungry Bear Restaurant and French River Trading Post

It was one of our longest excursions, comprised of two separate trips, in one of the most beautiful regions of Ontario.  We will certainly paddle on the French River and Georgian Bay again-who knows, if the weather is good, maybe even this year?

More photos from this trip:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/jack_1962/sets/72157631846528711/

Blog po polsku/in Polish: http://ontario-nature-polish.blogspot.ca/2012/08/na-kanu-na-zatoce-georgian-bay-kolo.html