Immersed in Nature

Let me be clear: I like being out in nature.

I love the lush forests, the clean lakes, the rocky lookouts. I love to hike and I seem to be my happiest when I'm paddling in my kayak—when I'm not faced with a long trek, directly into the wind, with white caps and swells on the water.

I love listening to the songs of birds and seeing woodland creatures in their natural habitat. Except bears: I'm afraid of bears.

So our full day at Rock Lake, in Algonquin Provincial Park, was almost perfect.

After a pancake breakfast with a fresh-berry maple syrup, we took our kayaks to the beach and set out. We had already done a paddle trip, the previous afternoon, where we went along a winding stream that connects Rock Lake to Whitefish Lake. We paddled more than halfway up one side of the lake before we crossed to the other shore and paddled back to Rock Lake.

That was an eight kilometer trek, round trip.

This time, we headed south on Rock Lake to Petro Bay, where sheer rock cliffs tower upward from the water and climb at least 10 metres above, where cedar and other evergreen trees look down on you. But what's really interesting about these cliffs are the old petroglyph artwork of the first nation's people. We could paddle right up to these centuries-old markings in the rock.

From there, we continued southward to a 375-metre portage, that takes travelers to Pen Lake. Between these two lakes, the Madawaska River flows along a series of waterfalls, making the portage a nice hike with plenty to see. We didn't take our kayaks along the portage but we checked out the put-in for Pen Lake and stopped at the waterfall.

On our way back toward camp, we encountered a special surprise. Along the edge of the lake, among a marshy area, we spotted a female moose (she was impossible to miss). We spent about a half hour, sitting in our kayaks, taking photos and video, and just marvelling at her beauty.

She didn't seem too bothered by us but gave me a funny look when my kayak drifted too close, and I had to paddle backwards to give her more space.

When we made it back to camp, we were disappointed by the noise that was coming from other trailers near ours. People older than us were blasting their music (and it wasn't even good music). We quickly locked up our kayaks, made lunch, replenished our water supply, and drove to Booth's Rock, a five-kilometre hiking trail that leads up to the top of a rocky cliff that gives a commanding view of Rock Lake and the surrounding area.

It's a rigorous hike for the physically fit, but I was spurred on by the masses of mosquitos and deer flies that were constantly attacking. We made it to the lookout, out of breath, sweating profusely, and half-eaten alive, but in record time (about 45 minutes, when they say to count on an hour to climb).

We returned to our campsite and it was still noisy, but I was so exhausted that I climbed into our camper, stripped down, turned on the air conditioner, and had a nap. With the doors closed and the fan going, I practically muffled out a neighbour's obnoxious music.

After dinner, DW and I got in our vehicle and took a drive along Highway 60 to find a good vantage to photograph the sunset, but we made alternate plans when we spotted a male moose off to the side of the road, in the bushes and eating leaves.

I can shoot a sunset any time. Capturing images of these fantastic beasts? This was only our second-ever opportunity.

We also spotted two more moose on separate occasions as we cruised the highway but didn't stop. We slowed to marvel but kept going. We had all the photos we needed and we were losing light.

I love being out in nature.

From kayaking to hiking, from ancient art on rock walls to wildlife, our full day in Algonquin Park was well worth the journey.

I'll share more photos, tomorrow.