Putter

"Let's just putter around George Lake," I said as we awoke, moments before sunrise. Again, I had opened my eyes and looked out the front of the tent, to see the full moon setting over George Lake, its pinkish reflection captured in the still water.

Again, I chose not to grab my camera and walk down to the beach to capture it. Sometime through the night, I had unzipped and slipped out of my sleeping bag, and the night had been cooler than the previous one. I awoke in the early hours, before dawn, shivering. I had attempted to crawl back into my sleeping bag but it was twisted and had become partially under DW, and so I pulled what little I could over me and tried to go back to sleep.

With the coming of dawn, DW and I stirred, and I finally managed to get back into my sleeping bag. With the moon setting, I was only just warming up and was loth to emerge from my cocoon.

We were both feeling stiff and sore from yesterday's 15-kilometer paddle around Georgian Bay, followed by a rigorous 4K hike around Cranberry Bog. Our original plan in Killarney Provincial Park, this day, was to hike to the top of The Crack, a 6-km trail that ascends to a lookout of the park. It is a challenging trek, one that our bodies told us they weren't ready for, today. "We'll do it tomorrow morning," we agreed.

Instead, we were just going to put our kayaks into George Lake. DW had found a dam at one end of the lake, and we could see if we were up to venturing out to it. At any time that we felt tired, we could turn around and head back to camp.

Breakfast was pancakes with fresh, plump blueberries, juice, and coffee. We were becoming very good at assembling our stove, preparing food, fetching water, and washing up when the meal was put away. We were certainly much tidier at this campsite than we tended to be at home.

Because the put-in for canoes and kayaks was only about 100 metres from our site, we drove the car with our kayaks the short distance, unpacked everything we needed, and then I drove the Niro back to our site and walked back to the put-in.

We could see only one person on the lake. The gentleman who was at the site across from our site, whose site was able to directly access George Lake, was swimming laps. As we were putting our breakfast dishes away, his two sons (presumably) were heading out for a morning run. The only ripples on the water were from his strokes and leg kicks.

We climbed into our kayaks and headed west, around a small peninsula and over to the main beach of George Lake campsite, where day-trippers would hang out. The rock outcrops were spectacular, and around every bend, we saw more beauty. We decided to circumnavigate the lake, continuing in a clockwise direction.

By the time we had reached the dam, we had already been paddling for almost two hours. The dam was part of a pretty channel that connected George Lake to the smaller Freeland Lake. A 50-metre portage was required to move kayaks and canoes between the two lakes, and we encountered a steady stream of both.

We too decided to take our kayaks over the portage to Freeland Lake, which was largely covered with lily pads and flowers but had a cleared route for paddlers. The lake runs for about one-and-a-half kilometres, where a longer portage connects with Killarney Lake, from which you could see the summit of The Crack trail.

We weren't willing to travel the 430-metre portage, but a map that DW carried pointed to a waterfall, about halfway along the portage, so we left our kayaks behind and hiked to this spot, where we nibbled on protein bars and trail mix. My Garmin watch showed that we had travelled more than 8 kilometres since we put in: so much for puttering around George Lake.

After our rest, we returned to our kayaks and headed straight back to the portage to George Lake, and then took the straightest line back to camp. As we pulled our kayaks onto the shore at our beach, we had completed about 14 kilometres of paddling.

Yup, so much for puttering.

It was lunch time and I wasn't in much of a mood of cooking at our campsite, so I talked DW into a drive to the village of Killarney, about 12 kms to the southwest, at the end of Highway 637. There isn't much to the town: a main street with several marinas, a general store, LCBO, restaurant, bakery, and inn. A narrow channel separated George Island, which dwarfs the town.

We decided to have fresh fish at Herbert Fisheries, which claims to be world famous, though it was our first time hearing of it. We grabbed fish and chips, a beer for me and vodka cooler for DW, and ate on their covered patio that looked out onto the channel and a tour boat. Lunch was okay but I couldn't figure what would make it world famous.

After lunch, we wandered to the Gateway Restaurant and Bakery, where we picked up some sweet goods and continued to watch the activity in the channel. Checking Google Maps, I found a lighthouse trail that would take us to the Killarney East Lighthouse, and we decided to hike out to it.

The lighthouse sits high above granite rocks and gives a great view of Georgian Bay. We took lots of video and photographs before deciding to make our way back to camp.

Back at camp, we were pretty pooped so DW had a nap while I worked on processing some of my photos on my smartphone.

Dinner was a simple spaghetti with a Bolognese sauce, and we built one last campfire before turning in for the night. The next day, we would pack up camp and hike The Crack trail before driving back home.

I'll finish up our trip, tomorrow.