Monday, February 9, 2026

INDEX/CONTENTS OF ALL BLOGS IN ENGLISH (CANADA, USA, AND CUBA)










LAKE SAINT PETER PROVINCIAL PARK, ALGONQUIN PARK’S LOGGING MUSEUM AND EGAN CHUTES PROVINCIAL PARK, JULY 28-AUGUST 3, 2022 

SILENT LAKE PROVINCIAL PARK, ONTARIO, CANADA. SEPTEMBER, 2021 


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SIX MILE LAKE PROVINCIAL PARK, ONTARIO: CAMPING IN 2024 AND 2025


THIS BLOG JEST DOSTĘPNY W JĘZYKU POLSKIM/THIS BLOG IS AVAILABLE IN THE POLISH LANGUAGE


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Six Mile Lake Provincial Park may not rank among Ontario’s top destinations, and it does have its drawbacks—many visitors complain about traffic noise from Highway 400. Yet its proximity to Toronto (169 km), along with its lakes, forests, beaver ponds, beaches, and scenic trails, makes it a wonderful place to visit.

Park Road
My first visit to this park took place in July 1993, just a month after I had purchased a brand-new Toyota Corolla, with Tadeusz Pasek, a well-known Polish yoga instructor, and his son Chris. The next day, we rented a motorboat and spent the entire day—from sunrise to sunset—on Georgian Bay, fishing. I remember that we caught plenty of fish. On the adjacent campsite a gentleman of Japanese origin and his family was camping. It turned out that his name was Fujimoto and he was professor of physics. Not only that—he knew quite well Chris’ university friend as well! Isn't the world a small place? Since then I have visited the park over 20 times.

For the Canada Day long weekend in June/July 2024, I managed to reserve a beautiful, private, spacious, and picturesque campsite (44°53'53.7"N 79°45'22.7"W / 44.898250, -79.756300) for a week.

I set up my tent here
After a few days of solo camping in 2024, my friend Guy joined me. Although the park was packed over that popular weekend, we only saw a handful of occupied sites around the beaver pond. Otherwise, we barely noticed the crowds, as we spent our time in long, engaging conversations, sharing stories from our lives and camping adventures.

Back in 2009, Guy had founded and led a www.meetup.com group called “Toronto Weekend Adventurers”, which quickly grew to thousands of members and organized countless events. Although he had not been active in the group for years, he still had a wealth of fascinating stories to tell!

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If you’ve read my other blogs, you’ve probably come across more than one instance of my favorite theme: the world is a small place. These moments usually come with a story attached—and, as I mentioned Guy earlier, this seems like the perfect opportunity to share yet another one.

Guy brought a huge Bluetti Power Station as well as 400 W Solar Panels, which very quickly recharged the power station. In addition, he brought a plug-in 12 V fridge. The fridge, of course made in China, had the following label attached:

Guy’s father was a Belgian official who served in the Belgian Congo during the 1950s and 1960s. Although Guy himself was born in Belgium, he spent several formative years living in the Congo. The country became independent on June 30, 1960, with Patrice Lumumba assuming office as its first head of government.

The apartment building on the left--44 Syreny Street--even my balcony on the 6th floor is visible! The other similar buildings behind it were located on Lumumby Street (now Płocka Street). This photo was part of a documentary, made in 1969
Before continuing, allow me a short personal detour—because this is, after all, a story within a story within yet another story. As a child, from 1963 to 1969, I lived on Syreny Street in Warsaw, Poland. Not far from our home was a street named after Patrice Lumumba. As a result, I became familiar with that name at a very young age, long before I had any real understanding of who he was. Later, driven by curiosity, I looked him up and learned more about him. On more than one occasion in adult life, I managed to impress my conversation partners by correctly pronouncing his name and casually explaining who he was and why he mattered. As for Lumumba Street itself, it existed under that name from 1961 until 1993, when—following the fall of communism—it reverted to its original historical name, Płocka Street.

But back to the Congo. Only a week after independence, a violent rebellion broke out, and in many regions Europeans became direct targets. Within weeks, the Belgian military—followed by a United Nations intervention force—began evacuating the vast majority of the more than 80,000 Belgians who were still living and working in the country. Among those evacuated were Guy and his family, who eventually returned safely to Belgium, where they were welcomed by Queen Elisabeth of Bavaria (Elisabeth Gabriele Valérie Marie), the Queen Dowager.

After his Congo assignment, Guy’s father continued his diplomatic career, becoming a Belgian consular official (and for a time a consul) first in New York City and later in Toronto—where he lived along with his family, of course. Although I met both Guy and his father only in 2007, it’s quite possible that our paths had crossed many times long before that. The Belgian Consulate in Toronto was located on the 19th floor of the Royal Bank Building at 8 King Street East—a building that, when completed in 1915, was the tallest in the British Empire.

In front of 8 King Street East in Toronto, with my friend and co-worker. This photo was taken on August 03, 1985-over 40 years ago!
Nota bene, almost directly vis-à-vis that office building stood the famous King Edward Hotel, where in May 1969 John Lennon and Yoko Ono stayed in the same Royal Suite in which the Beatles had lived in 1964. During that visit, they held press conferences promoting their “bed-in for peace” campaign and met with fans and the media just a few days before their famous Montreal bed-in.

King Edward Hotel in Toronto. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:King_Edward_Hotel_2025.jpg 
Also, during her stay in Toronto in 1988 for the G7 Summit, British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher stayed at the King Edward Hotel. That day I was, for the first time, late for work, having waited in front of it for half an hour before she finally appeared and waved in our direction.

8 King Street East, Toronto-The Royal Bank Building. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Royal_Bank_Building_Toronto_1.jpg
As it happens, at the end of 1982 I landed my very first job in Canada in that same building, 8 King Street East, also on the 19th floor, in a small investment brokerage firm. From time to time, I would run into employees of the Belgian Consulate—quite possibly including Guy’s father—without having the slightest idea of how our lives would later intersect.

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In September, 2025, I invited Guy again along with two other friends, but the forecast called for days of rain, so no one came. I decided to go anyway and left home early morning. I stopped at Tim Hortons jus off Highways 400 in King City, my de rigueur stop for decades (43°53'42.1"N 79°33'28.6"W / 43.895030, -79.557930). 

I noticed a big sign: "Pumpkin is Here" (Starbucks advertising Pumpkin Cream Cold Brew and Pumpkin Spice Latter). I immediately took a photo and sent it to Catherine with the following message: "It says that you are here, but I can't find you!" Just to clarify: I often call Catherine "Pumpkin"! 

Later I stopped in another Tim Hortons in Port Severn, arriving on Tuesday, September 23, 2025.  It was cloudy, hot, and humid; the rain held off until late evening. I camped on the same campsite Guy and I had camped in 2024. Thanks to my tarp, I was able to sit outside comfortably while it poured through the night and early morning.

In September, 2025, I pitched the tent on the same spot
The gentle sound of rain on the tent was so soothing that, after waking around 8 a.m., I drifted back to sleep and finally got up at 11 a.m., just as the rain stopped. From Friday through Monday the weather turned sunny and dry, and I was very glad I hadn’t canceled the trip.
The view from my campsite was just awesome!
For the first four nights, I seemed to be the only camper in my area—pure serenity! The park filled up for the weekend, but by Sunday evening it was quiet again, most sites already vacant.
Beavers were my constant companion!
During both trips, I pitched my tent in the same spot—about 2 meters from the beaver pond and 7 meters from the beaver lodge. It’s one of the most beautiful places in the park, in my opinion. I spent hours watching the beavers, who were especially active in September 2025. At almost any time, one or more could be seen swimming, dragging branches, eating, grooming, or waddling awkwardly on land near my site. Sometimes I saw as many as four at once!
Even very hardworking beavers sometimes decide to give up their "project"!
They weren’t exactly tame, but as long as I simply observed or took photos, they ignored my presence. Watching them was endlessly entertaining. At night, as I drifted off to sleep, I’d hear their loud tail slaps echoing across the pond.
The beaver pond and (on the right) the beaver dam, without which it would become a muddy, shallow swamp
In previous years, I’d often seen a great blue heron at the beaver pond, but none appeared during these trips. A warden later told me that herons had still been sighted recently, so perhaps it was just temporary. Most migrate south by mid-September, so I probably missed them.
Chipmunks were always chasing one another and collected acorns
The only other animals I saw regularly were chipmunks, scurrying back and forth collecting acorns. Being territorial, they frequently chased one another away. Surprisingly, they were not very friendly and never approached me—unlike in many parks, where chipmunks quickly associate people with food.
View from my campsite
Black bears are rare here, and staff confirmed there had been no sightings for months. Raccoons, though often active at night, didn’t appear during either of my visits. Although rattlesnakes were in the area (I encountered one in 2022), there were none in the park due to the tens of thousands of tourists visiting the park every year.
View of my tent from a campsite on the opposite end of the beaver pond
When camping with Guy, we had a campfire each night and stayed up past midnight talking. He brought along a new Bluetti Power Station and four solar panels, which he charged under the sunny skies. In 2025, I brought a smaller Bluetti Power Station of my own—enough for my modest needs. Since the weather was cloudy, I skipped the solar panel and instead charged it at the park’s comfort station. Using the “turbo charge” mode, it reached almost full power in under an hour, while I relaxed in the car with a book or took a refreshing shower in the new facilities. I didn’t bother with campfires in 2025—I don’t particularly enjoy sitting by one alone. For breakfast I had fiber cereal along with six lemons and two oranges, which I squeezed into a large glass of fresh juice each morning. One day I drove to Port Severn’s Tim Hortons (44°53'53.7"N 79°45'22.7"W / 44.898250, -79.756306) for coffee and a muffin.
Do not laugh, but this was my daily breakfast!
On Saturday, September 27, 2025, I drove to the Canadian Martyrs’ Shrine in Midland (44°44'11.8"N 79°50'32.2"W / 44.736611, -79.842278) to attend an evening healing Mass celebrated by Fr. John O’Brien, S.J., whom I had first met in Midland on August 7, 2022 and who also directed retreats at the Manresa Jesuit Retreat Center in Pickering, Ontario, which I had attended annually since 1994. After the Mass, I stopped by Walmart to buy a fresh salad—after several days without greens, my body was craving them!
The Martyrs' Shrine in Midland, Ontario
Just a few meters from the beaver pond, beside my tent, I found a rock formation shaped like a “chair,” where I could sit fairly comfortably. I set up my phone on a tripod and used it to talk with people worldwide through an English-practice app. Because the background included the pond, trees, and beaver lodge, some of my conversation partners thought I was using a virtual background—until they saw a real beaver swim by, at which point they were in awe of Canadian nature!
My favourite spot next to my tent, where I read books, watched the beavers or chatted on cam
Along with my Chromebook, I brought several books, though I spent little time reading—I much preferred soaking in the natural surroundings. I did, however, finish Life on the Color Line: The True Story of a White Boy Who Discovered He Was Black by Gregory Howard Williams, a fascinating memoir. Williams grew up in 1950s Virginia believing he was White—his dark-skinned father passed as Italian-American—but after moving to Muncie, Indiana, he learned the truth about his heritage and began living, along with his brother, as Black. Despite poverty and hardship, he earned multiple degrees and eventually became president of the University of Cincinnati and later of the City College of New York.
The author was brutally honest, describing his life. When he moved with his father to Indiana and started living as Black, his mother left him, his brother and his father and lived far from them. One day his father said to him that he saw his mother, who lived in Washington “with that black bastard she ran off with” and “asked how you boys were doing”. When the author’s brother asked his father what he told her, his father said, “I told her you were in Muncie, learning how to be niggers!”
Gregory Howard Williams
After finishing the book, I wanted to write him a note of appreciation, only to learn that he had passed away just a month earlier, on August 12, 2025, at age 81.
Morning exercises as well as listening to an audiobook
Several times I stopped by the park store for coffee ($2.15 per cup) and enjoyed chatting with a friendly warden who shared a few stories about the park and his work.
One of the better campsites in the park, on which I used to camp numerous times with Catherine, Chris, Patrizia, Guy and Zoran
I left the park on September 29, 2025, fairly early. Traffic was light, but approaching Toronto, I decided to make life easier by taking the toll highway 407 and avoiding possible congestion on Highway 401.
One more photograph showing the view from my campsite!
Both outings were easy, peaceful, and thoroughly enjoyable. And while I love camping in more remote locations, I’d gladly return to Six Mile Lake Provincial Park anytime—even for just a few days!




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Sunday, February 1, 2026

FRENCH RIVER PROVINCIAL PARK, ONTARIO: CAMPING, CANOEING, FISHING & BLUEBERRY PICKING, JULY 16–29, 2024

 

TEN BLOG JEST DOSTĘPNY W JĘZYKU POLSKIM/THIS BLOG IS AVAILABLE IN THE POLISH LANGUAGE

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VIDEO FROM THIS TRIP IS AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS BLOG OR YOU CAN WATCH IT HERE



INTRODUCTION: RETURNING TO THE FRENCH RIVER—A SUMMER OF BLUEBERRIES, RAINS, AND MEMORIES

For decades, the French River has been a magical destination for canoeists, campers, and nature lovers. Known for its pristine waters, rugged islands, and historical significance as a fur trade route, it has inspired countless adventures, including mine. July 2024 offered another chance to reconnect with this iconic river—this time, with Chris, our canoe, and an appetite for blueberries (and, admittedly, just a tiny hope for decent fishing).

The map of the area we were camping. Our campsite is in red
We set out from Mississauga, navigating post-storm flooding (120 mm of rain in just one hour), highway detours, and unexpected downpours, only to discover once again that the French River rewards patience and curiosity. From hidden peninsulas and quiet bays to encounters with fellow campers, buzzing deer flies, and a few mysterious sounds from the rapids, the river reminded us why it has captivated adventurers for centuries. Along the way, we discovered that the world is indeed a small place, with paths crossing in the most unexpected ways—sometimes through a blog, sometimes through shared memories of a campsite decades old.

The map of the area we were camping. Our campsite is in red
Whether revisiting old haunts like Boomerang/Banana Island, meeting the friendly and remarkable Alex Strachan at the Lodge at Pine Cove, or just losing ourselves in blueberry bushes, this trip combined the joys of wilderness, nostalgia, and gentle surprises that only a river like the French can provide.

Satellite map of our campsite #313 (#322)


LEAVING VERY RAINY MISSISSAUGA, CAMPING TWO NIGHTS IN GRUNDY LAKE PROVINCIAL PARK AND SURVIVING A DOWNPOUR

We left Toronto on July 16, 2024, right after the huge rainstorm (120 mm in just a few hours) that caused widespread flooding across the GTA (Greater Toronto Area). It took us almost 2 hours to drive from Mississauga to King City, as the 410 was closed and the 401 resembled a parking lot. After over 5 hours and 316 km, we arrived at Grundy Lake Provincial Park, where we spent 2 nights on campsite #118 (45°55'44.8"N 80°33'02.3"W / 45.929111, -80.550639), waiting for the weather to improve—and I’m glad we did, as we experienced extremely heavy rains the next day.

At the Hungry Bear Restaurant

While staying in the park, we drove to the Hungry Bear Restaurant, the Trading Post, the French River Visitors’ Center, and the town of Noëlville. On our drive back to the park via Highway 400, we were hit by a wave of such intense rain that visibility dropped to just a few meters. I had no choice but to pull over and wait it out. By the time we returned to the park, there were huge puddles everywhere—but our Eureka El Capitan 3 tents did not leak.


Grundy Lake Provincial Park, Ontario-our campsite #118

The campsite itself was quite nice. There was a canoe launch just across from our spot, and I noticed a beautiful wooden canoe. Its owner was staying on the adjacent campsite, and we spent some time chatting about canoes and canoeing in general. It turned out he was also from Mississauga, so we were practically neighbors!

Grundy Lake Provincial Park, Ontario-in front of our campsite #118, after a huge downpour

CROSSING PATHS WITH CAMPER CHRISTINA


I often say that the world is a small place. It may sound like a cliché, but it’s true! In February, 2025, I went to the annual Outdoor Adventure Show in Mississauga, where I met Camper Christina, creator of the popular YouTubechannel as well as her blog, which I had been following for about 2 years.

She has completed numerous canoe and camping trips, many in the winter (and she still sleeps in a tent heated with a wood stove), and posts very detailed videos documenting her adventures. While watching her videos or reading her blog, I often spotted familiar areas where I had paddled and camped in the past—sometimes even recognizing specific campsites I had stayed on!

Campsite #118 in Grundy Lake Provincial Park, Ontario

Recently, while reading her blog, I realized our paths had crossed again: in 2015, she had camped at this very campsite (#118) in Grundy Lake Provincial Park, and she mentioned it here.

GRUNDY LAKE SUPPLY POST AND THE LODGE AT PINE COVE ON WOLSELEY BAY

On July 18, 2024, we packed up and drove to Grundy Lake Supply Post (45°54'45.2"N 80°33'34.2"W / 45.912556, -80.559500) to get gas. It used to be located at the intersection of Highways 69 & 522, and in 2010, Catherine and I bought our canoe there. Because of the construction of the new Highway 400 (which, according to the owner, “was going to pass through my kitchen”), the Supply Post relocated one kilometer east, just across from the entrance to Grundy Lake Provincial Park. Lo and behold, it was the same owner dispensing gas! He recognized me and even remembered selling us the canoe 14 years ago.

The Lodge at Pine Cover, our put-in point. We had to carry our equipment and the canoe on these stairs

After getting our camping permits from the French River Visitor Center, we paid a quick visit to Noëlville again and then drove to The Lodge at Pine Cove on Wolseley Bay (46°05'39.3"N 80°13'45.2"W / 46.094250, -80.229222). It was a very nice place, though we couldn’t access the water directly—we had to use stairs to carry the canoe and our gear. Parking was also a few hundred meters from the put-in point. After just over an hour, we were finally on the water, commencing our search for a campsite.


CHANGES IN FRENCH RIVER PROVINCIAL PARK OVER THE PAST 30 YEARS AND LOOKING FOR A CAMPSITE

During my first trip to the French River in August, 1995, it was a park, but there were no official campsites—camping was free. Several years later, a payment system was introduced along with designated and numbered campsites, which in 2024 cost about $10 per person per day (with some discounts available). Nevertheless, it was still possible to pick any vacant campsite on a first-come-first-serve basis. I liked this system—we didn’t have to worry about reservations or leaving a campsite on a strict schedule (tricky when the wind was strong).

Well, enjoy it while it lasts! 2024 was the last year that no reservation was required. Starting in 2025, campers must book a specific numbered campsite for a set period.

Of course, we wanted to camp on “Boomerang,” aka “Banana Island”, our favourite campsite, which I had described in my blogs in 2011 and 2013. By the way, a few years ago, bureaucrats decided to renumber all campsites in the park—so I list the old number first, then the new number in brackets.

While paddling to our destination, we passed another lodge

We reached the island in about 30 minutes and eagerly looked for any camping gear—but alas, it was occupied! We continued to campsite #322 (#334) (46°04'58.9"N 80°11'49.2"W / 46.083030, -80.196990) on a nearby island. It was vacant, albeit hilly. We realized we’d have to carry all our gear up the hill to set up the tents. The fire pit was full of metal cans—at least no broken glass this time! While I was willing to stay, Chris wanted to check a different campsite.

We were surrounded by beautiful scenery

Next, we paddled to campsite #323 (#335) (46°04'56.6"N 80°12'04.9"W / 46.082380, -80.201370), but even from the canoe, it didn’t look appealing. Then we moved toward a cluster of campsites not far from the Five Finger Rapids. We passed campsite #316 (#328) (46°05'18.6"N 80°10'25.1"W / 46.088500, -80.173639)—not bad, but too close to other campsites, so we continued our search.

THE WORLD IS A SMALL PLACE: AN EMAIL FROM LINDSAY

Now I’d like to share an interesting story, which again confirms that the world is a very small place. On May 1, 2024, less than 3 months before our trip, I got an email from Lindsay, who had come across my blog while trying to figure out exactly where she had camped in the past. She used to camp at sites #313 and #314 every summer with her dad, who, sadly, passed away suddenly in 2020.

She said that back then she didn’t care much about GPS coordinates, but ironically, she had become a geologist and now loved coordinates 😂! She asked if I could help her locate the exact sites, hoping to return someday in honour of her dad.

Of course, I sent her an email with the exact coordinates of the campsites and even attached a scanned French River Provincial Park map.

Campsite number 314 (323). Further down you can see our campsite number 313 (322)

Fast forward to our trip: we were approaching campsites #314 (#323) and #313 (#322)—yes, the very ones Lindsay and her dad had stayed on! Both faced a small bay and were vacant. Not wanting to paddle any further, Chris chose the second one, #313 (#322) (46°05'32.7"N 80°10'10.0"W / 46.092417, -80.169444). It turned out to be an excellent choice!

When Lindsay contacted me in May, 2024, I had no idea where we would go for our vacation. Canoeing on Wolseley Bay was just one of about seven possible destinations, and at the time, I thought we might end up car-camping, since Chris wasn’t very enthusiastic about paddling far to reach a campsite. Yet not only did we canoe on Wolseley Bay, we somehow ended up on the exact campsite she had mentioned!

SETTING UP TENTS ON CAMPSITE NUMBER 313 (322), GORGING ON BLUEBERRIES AND... HIDING ELEPHANTS?

Although there were flat spots for tents on the left and on a bare rocky hill (covered with smaller rocks, no doubt used by previous campers to secure tent ropes, since pegs were impossible), we set up our tents close to the water on the sloping rocky ground. My tent was next to an unused fire pit—the main fire pit was closer to the water.

Campsite #313 (322). Our tents were very close to the water

Several days later, Chris realized water was seeping from the rock right under his tent, so he moved it about 25 meters to the left. On the other side of the campsite, he enjoyed a stunning view of a scenic bay with rocky shores—yes, our campsite sat on a small peninsula. When I walked north for over 100 meters, I could see the bay and Hall Island, which was private and had a few buildings.

Remnants of an old structure on our campsite

Near my tent were remnants of an old structure, perhaps a shed or shelter. Unfortunately, despite our thorough search, there was no thunder-box (toilet) on the campsite. Later, I managed to walk through the dense forest to the one belonging to the adjacent campsite, #314 (#323) (46°05'29.7"N 80°10'11.9"W / 46.091583, -80.169972). Perhaps it was meant to be shared—but I can’t imagine navigating that in the dark!

Blueberries were plentiful!

We arrived at the peak of blueberry season, and the bushes were everywhere. I often spent 5 minutes in one spot picking berries. I hardly touched the breakfast I brought—I probably consumed up to 2 liters of blueberries every day! Fortunately, we didn’t have competition from black bears; we were told none had been sighted that year, likely because there were plenty of blueberries for everyone.


I was also reminded of a joke I once heard from a friend back in high school, also about blueberries.

— Why do elephants have eyes like blueberries?
— So they can hide in blueberry bushes.
— ?
— Have you ever seen an elephant in a blueberry bush?
— No? Exactly — see how well it was hiding? 😄

Indeed, I never saw an elephant—it must have been hiding quite well! The only animals we saw were chipmunks, squirrels, mice, seagulls, turtles, huge ravens, and some birds of prey. I heard a woodpecker occasionally but didn’t see it. I’m pretty sure nothing else visited at night. Once, a Whitespotted Sawyer, a wood-boring beetle, sat on my tent. I also spent time observing spiders, which proved surprisingly entertaining.

VERY DISAPPOINTING FISHING EXPERIENCE AND MODERATE BUG ACTIVITY

We were looking forward to finally catching and eating some fish. On the second day, I caught a pike, which we quickly cooked over the fire—but that was the only fish we caught (except for two small pikes, which we released). We often sat on the shore watching fishermen in motorboats, equipped with top-of-the-line gear and fish-finders—they weren’t catching anything either. Unfortunately, we were in very good company this year! Local residents and tourists confirmed that fishing had worsened on the French River, supposedly due to overfishing.

We were fishing from the canoe and from the shore, yet the results were the same: no fish!

Last year (2023), we spent 16 days camping and canoeing on the French River, south of Hartley Bay, and caught three pikes—other anglers had similar results. 15–30 years ago, I rarely spent more than one hour fishing before catching a decent-sized fish. Nowadays, fishing had become a rather fruitless activity. And to be clear, we weren’t after a trophy pike or musky—all we wanted was one or two fish for dinner. I also spent a lot of time trolling while paddling—again, in vain.

Interestingly, the 2024 fishing regulations introduced a new “Waterbody Exception” for our area: the daily catch limit for pike was decreased from 6 to 4, and size restrictions were added. Not that it affected us—we rarely exceed the daily catch limit… in one year! No wonder avid anglers travel far north or fly to remote lodges—they simply can’t fish successfully in the more accessible parts of the river anymore.

Enjoying a campfire on our campsite

During our stay, we were annoyed by pesky deer flies, hovering over our heads, but they were manageable. Around 9:30 pm, mosquitoes appeared. They were bothersome, but DEET helped a lot, and after less than an hour, their numbers decreased significantly. In 2023, on the other hand, swarms of mosquitoes made evenings miserable, and bug spray barely helped. That year, a fire ban forced us indoors by 9:00 pm. This time, the campfire every evening was a very effective mosquito deterrent. Occasional (heavy) rain didn’t bother us as much—it helped us maintain our nightly ritual!

PASSING WATERCRAFT, HOT AND SUNNY WEATHER, SIGNS OF RECENT FOREST FIRE AND OUR SEARCH FOR CELL PHONE COVERAGE

Every day, many motorboats, including pontoons, passed not far from our campsite, some full of people seemingly having the time of their lives. A few times, they docked at campsite #314 (#323), and both kids and adults spent hours frolicking in the water and diving from the rocks. We saw canoes and kayaks, but not many—and none approached us or tried to camp on the other campsite. Twice, we spotted tents on campsite #316 (#328) from our side. I suspect most canoeists headed to the Five Finger Rapids and did the 360-meter portage. Besides, we often woke up late, so many canoes likely paddled by earlier.

The weather was hot and sunny, and there wasn’t much shade at our campsite. We set up a tarp, which we only used once for rain—otherwise, it served as protection from the sun.

We noticed many dead or fallen trees on our campsite. One stump was clearly blackened and burned—I initially thought lightning had struck it. Some nearby trees also appeared scorched. Later, while paddling close to our site, a man in a pontoon boat shouted that there had been a forest fire two years ago. We learned more about it on our last day, which I’ll mention later in the blog.

A burned stump on the campsite

One day, we paddled to Crane’s Lochaven Wilderness Lodge (46°04'35.8"N 80°11'18.6"W / 46.076611, -80.188500 / 45.932889, -80.547361) just south of Boomerang/Banana Island, hoping for cell phone reception, albeit very weak. Chris paddled around the lodge for about 15 minutes, while I managed to send a few WhatsApp messages and even download the weather forecast.

Twice we saw tents on campsite #316 (#328). We could see them from our site

The next day, on July 24, 2024, we paddled to The Lodge at Pine Cove, attached the canoe to the dock, and drove to Noëlville (46°08'01.6"N 80°25'54.2"W / 46.133778, -80.431722) to restock supplies (we had hoped fishing would provide our meals) and visit the LCBO—the strike had ended the day before. Prices at the local supermarket (Foodland) were significantly higher than in Toronto: a 2-liter bottle of Coke cost $4.00, beef steaks sold for $40–70/kg, and even small prepared salads exceeded $10. (As of January 2026, a 2-liter Coke costs $2.79 in No Frills and $4.00 in Metro in Toronto, and salad kits around $7, often half-price near expiration.)

While waiting in front of The Beer Store, I chatted with a group of French-speaking farmers. Of course, they spoke English too. They said they couldn’t understand French speakers from Quebec! I always find it fascinating how Canadian French has evolved—it’s not only quite different from the French spoken in France but has also developed regional dialects. I, of course, don’t speak French; in Toronto, I hear it maybe once every two years.

VISITING ADJACENT CAMPSITE NUMBER 314 (323), THE BOOKS I READ, MAJOR WORLD NEWS, MYSTERIOUS SOUND AND SOMETHING TO LAUGH ABOUT

On the adjacent campsite, number 314 (323)

A few times, we visited the adjoining campsite #314 (#323) by canoe. It was never occupied during our stay and had plenty of blueberries. I eventually walked over from our campsite just to pick them, though I preferred our own site—I loved exploring it and watching the scenic bay on the other side. While walking, I kept an eye out for snakes, especially venomous Eastern Massasauga Rattlesnakes, which I had encountered in the past. Thankfully, I didn’t see a single snake, not even the usual water snakes.

On the adjacent campsite, number 314 (323)
As always, I brought a couple of books with me.

  • Last Night in the OR: A Transplant Surgeon’s Odyssey, a memoir by Dr. Bud Shaw, was fascinating. Dr. Shaw trained under Dr. Thomas Earl Starzl in the 1980s—the famous Dr. Starzl (1926–2017), often called “the father of modern transplantation”. Reading the book, I again regretted not pursuing medicine myself.

  • Monday Mornings by Sanjay Gupta, M.D., was fiction, but likely based on real events. It follows five surgeons, navigating life-and-death decisions and occasional mistakes that cost patients’ lives.

  • Raven Stole the Moon by Garth Stein, a supernatural thriller, tells of an ancient Native American legend in Alaska’s wilderness, a missing shaman son, and the legendary kushtake—soul-stealing predators between the living and the dead. I first read it around 1999 and wanted to revisit it for nostalgia.

The adjacent campsite, number 314 (323). At least there was a thunder box (toilet) and visible signs
Of course, we also followed the news and weather forecasts several times daily.

  • On July 19, 2024, a faulty update from CrowdStrike caused a massive global technology failure, grounding flights, crippling banks, and disrupting hospitals. Not that it affected us in semi-wilderness!

  • On July 21, 2024, President Joe Biden ended his re-election campaign, endorsing Vice-President Kamala Harris. Had he not run, Democrats might have had a shot at winning. Later, he supposedly regretted stepping down. Honestly, was he delusional? Since Trump's inauguration, Biden's name has hardly been mentioned--and when it has, usually in a negative way, even by some of his supporters.

  • On July 26, 2024, the Paris 2024 Olympic Games officially opened. Neither Chris nor I paid a single bit of attention.

  • Meanwhile, intense fighting continued in Gaza, and the Russia-Ukraine war persisted.

Typical French River scenery

One morning around 5:30 am, I heard a constant hum. I first thought it was a boat or plane, but it continued for 45 minutes. A few days later, on the opposite side of our peninsula, I heard a similar sound—like rushing water—coming from Five Fingers Rapids (~800 meters away). I concluded it was likely due to water release from one of the four French River dams, though the sudden start and stop remained puzzling. At the lodge, I recounted it, and everyone was just as puzzled.


One night, in the tent, I woke Chris and said:
“Chris, look up at the stars—what do you see?”
“I see millions and millions of stars.”
“And what can you deduce from that?”
“Well, if there are millions of stars, and even a few have planets, there might be planets like Earth out there. And if a few planets are like Earth, there might be life.”
“Chris, you idiot,” I said. “It means someone has stolen our tent!”

Of course, it’s joke which I slightly modified. In the early 2000s, it was voted in the UK as the best joke of the year.

LEAVING OUR CAMPSITE FOR THE LODGE AT PINE COVE AND CHATTING WITH ALEX STRACHAN, ITS OWNER

On June 28, 2024, we packed up and loaded everything into the canoe—which is never an easy or particularly pleasant task. It took about one hour to reach The Lodge at Pine Cove, and as Chris gradually carried our gear up the stairs, I walked to the parking lot and drove to the lodge. A young employee kindly helped us carry the canoe and load it onto the car—awesome!

At the Lodge at Pine Cove

I also started talking to a very nice gentleman, who turned out to be the owner of the Lodge, Alex Strachan. According to an article I found online, “he purchased the property in 1999 and transformed it from a rundown lodge into the renowned retreat it is today, known for its rustic elegance and deep connection to the French River. He’s often praised for his storytelling and hosting, making guests feel welcome in this tranquil setting.”

We heard woodpeckers and saw the results of their activity, but never managed to see them

We ended up having a very pleasant conversation. Alex had been an executive vice-president with Royal LePage in Toronto, so leaving a corporate career for life on the French River must have been a huge change. Yet I’m sure it was the right decision—I always admire people who make such radical changes. Many of us dream of it, few actually do.

Mr. Strachan also shared a story related to our campsite. In September 2021, a couple camping on that site hadn’t put out their campfire. Later, the wind blew embers around, and by noon some people in a boat noticed the fire. Initially, they tried buckets of water, but with no cell reception, they decided to get help—and fortunately met Mr. Strachan halfway between the campsite and the lodge. He brought his boat with a huge pump (capable of pumping 8,000 liters of water per minute) and put out the fire within a few hours. Thanks to him, we could still enjoy staying on that campsite!

By the way, we always kept a 1-gallon bottle of lake water near the fire pit, just in case. Before turning in each night, I poured it over the dying fire—better safe than sorry!

Once, a Whitespotted Sawyer, a wood-boring beetle, sat on my tent.

DRIVING TO NOËLVILLE AND THE HUNGRY BEAR RESTAURANT, CAMPING IN GRUNDY LAKE PARK, LUNCH UNDER THE TRESTLE IN PARRY SOUND AND ARRIVING HOME

Once we packed the car, we drove to Noëlville, bought a bottle of red wine, corn, and sausages, then headed to the Hungry Bear Restaurant—my de rigueur stop since 1995—for hamburgers, French fries, and coffee. Afterwards, we returned to Grundy Lake Provincial Park.

The Hungry Bear Restaurant

Although it was Sunday and plenty of campers were leaving, even more new campers were arriving. Some campgrounds had no available sites for a single night! We got campsite #317 (45°55'58.1"N 80°32'49.6"W / 45.932800, -80.547100). It was okay, though it reeked of something unpleasant—possibly human waste.




I also realized that two years ago, friends and I had camped on campsite #318, just across from ours, where a black bear ate my breakfast and visited us twice a day. I spent some time observing a squirrel performing acrobatics on a tree and feeding a very tame chipmunk—no doubt it had learned that being nice to campers paid off in plenty of food!

Grundy Lake Provincial Park, Ontario. Campsite number 317

We had a campfire, grilled corn and sausages, and stayed up until 11:00 pm, sipping Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon.

The famous trestle in Parry Sound. I've been stopping here and having lunch under this trestle for at least 15 years with Catherine, Chris and many other canoe & camping companions!

We left the park on July 29, 2024, stopping in Parry Sound at the Thrift Shop, Tim Hortons, and No Frills, then had lunch under the famous train trestle, immortalized by Tom Thomson in one of his 1914 paintings. I also spent 15 minutes at “Bearly Used Books”, one of Canada’s most amazing second-hand bookstores.

Traditional place to enjoy lunch under the trestle in Parry Sound

The drive home was problem-free, though I took the 407 toll highway to avoid traffic jams on the 401.

And just across from my lunch palce, almost under the trestle, is a Chinese Restaurant. In 2008 it used to be a coffee shop, probably called "The Blue Café." When I met Catherine for the first time, the four of use--Catherine, Jane, Guy and I--wento to that café and had coffee and deserts on the patio.

CONCLUSION: REFLECTIONS ON A SUMMER ADVENTURE

Looking back on July 2024, the trip was a mix of extremes: torrential rains, scorching sun, poor fishing, and seemingly endless blueberries: It is said that when God closes a door, He opens a window. In our case, fishing was bad (or non-existent), yet we were blessed with plenty of blueberries—perhaps the window that God opened for us!

It was a reminder that not every adventure is about trophies—sometimes it’s about the quiet moments: watching chipmunks do acrobatics, listening to a woodpecker’s rhythm, or sharing a laugh under a starry sky.

The French River continues to evolve—campsites are now numbered and reservations mandatory, fish are scarcer than in decades past, and forest fires leave their subtle marks on the landscape. Yet, despite these changes, the river remains a timeless playground, a place for connection, exploration, and reflection.

For anyone planning a trip, I can say this: expect surprises, embrace the unexpected, and savor the small delights that make wilderness camping unforgettable. As for Chris and me, we hope to return—maybe even score a campsite closer to the put-in point. And if we do, I suspect the blueberries will be waiting, nature’s very own reward for showing up.




TEN BLOG JEST RÓWNIEŻ DOSTĘPNY W JĘZYKU POLSKIM/THIS BLOG IS AVAILABLE IN THE POLISH LANGUAGE

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