Old Woman Bay

You've gotta love pareidolia.

It's how we see the man in the moon or Pluto—the Disney dog—on Pluto—the dwarf planet. And just a 40-minute drive, north of the Lake Superior Provincial Park campground, heading on the Trans-Canada Highway, is a bay that is named after what some see as a woman's head—mostly, her face—either reclining or looking upward toward the vast sky, above.

It's called Old Woman Bay.

The landscape was formed by ancient geological faulting and differential erosion, followed by glacial activity and wave action, and is part of the Canadian Shield, with the oldest regional rocks dating as far back as 2.7 billion years ago. Tectonic and volcanic activity added fault lines that are roughly 1.1 billion years old.

The 200-metre cliffs feature deep clefts and parallel geological faults, with differential erosion carving out the distinct profile that resembles a woman's face. But only from a particular angle—as best as we could see it, from the beach and paddling straight toward it.

Pareidolia, baby. You've gotta love it.

As we put our kayaks in at the beach, which has a steep, sandy slope down to the water, we noticed that the wind was quite noticeable, blowing directly into the bay. But once at the water's edge, we felt a bit protected from a sandbar that formed a narrow barrier from the proper bay. Sunbathers were relaxing on the sandbar, having crossed the shallow, pebble-lined channel.

There's a narrow mouth at the northern end of the sandbar, allowing crafts to leave the protected channel, though with the wind there were little waves that made for a turbulent exit. And once beyond the sandbar, you were in deep, cold water.

We initially decided that we would paddle in a straight line for the 'old woman' and see how her face would change as we approached, and we'd then cross the bay and paddle northward. We had been told by park staff that it didn't matter if you paddled south or north, as the rock cliffs on the south are beautiful and islands on the north brought their own beauty, too.

But paddling along the southern side of the bay, we were met with both waves from the wind and reflecting waves—those that bounced off the rock cliffs and were sent back out into the bay. We were bounced around from both sides, even though we kept our distance from the walls of granite.

As we reached the 'old woman,' we saw that beyond the bay, white caps stirred up bigger waves. We already calculated that we were hitting waves of a metre or so, and we didn't want to be in open water, so we decided that a crossing to the northern point wasn't worth the risk.

Instead, we'd leave the bay and continue south, staying close to shore. Even though there was only sheer cliff meeting us, should anyone capsize.

Just as we were about to leave the shade and shelter of the bay, I went over a large roller that put me square onto a massive boulder that lay hidden under the water's surface. Without the sunlight reaching below the water—we were in total shade—I didn't see the boulder until it was too late.

I was actually reaching to turn off my camera, which was rolling at the time, when I struck the rock. I immediately placed my hand back on my paddle and tried to back up but my kayak wouldn't budge.

I called out to DW and our Paddlefolk friend, letting them know I was stuck. I was a bit worried that, should another roller expose the boulder and cause the weight of my V-shaped hull to tip me, I would end up in the cold water.

But as I paddled and explained my situation, another swell lifted me up and I was able to back away from the rock. I adjusted my course to take me further away from the cliffs and out into the sunlight.

Out of the shelter of the inner-south cliffs of Old Woman Bay, the wind was much stronger, causing large swells but again, nothing we couldn't handle. The cliffs were lit up and we could see how the years of wind and waves had carved shapes and cracks in the shoreline.

We paddled a little further and felt the wind intensifying, so we decided to turn around and make our way back to the beach. By now, there were white caps in the bay so we figured our paddling for the day would be over.

And besides, it was lunchtime and we were hungry.

With our kayaks securely attached to our cars, we decided to head north, to Wawa, for lunch. It was only 20 minutes away and for me, it took us further along Lake Superior than I had ever been before.

Wawa is small, with a population of about 2,700, and is a slight deviation off the Trans-Canada Highway. As we made our way to the town, DW did an online search for restaurants, keeping in touch with our friend for consensus.

We settled on the Old Station Restaurant, based on reviews. But when we entered the restaurant and found it empty, we were slightly hesitant: why would a restaurant have no customers if it was rated so highly?

Of course, by the time we had reached the Old Station, it was after 2:00 and past the lunchtime period. The restaurant features a blend of traditional and Indian food. DW and I had a Naan-wich, which was a hot chicken sandwich with cheese and sauce in a naan flatbread.

DW also ordered poutine, which we shared, and our friend had butter chicken.

The Naan-wiches were tasty but filling, and we didn't really need the poutine. The fries were excellent—double-fried—but instead of curds, the restaurant uses shredded mozzarella. The gravy was fine.

Wawa is popular for Young's General Store, which is part curiosity shop. I found a great kayak t-shirt, though I found $30 for a t-shirt to be a bit overpriced (I bought it anyway). I also walked out with some fudge, which DW and I shared.

But what puts Wawa on the map is its roadside attraction, a giant Canada goose. Built in 1960, its sole purpose is to divert travellers from Highway 17 and perhaps stop for a meal, and maybe check out shops.

In other words, exactly what we did.

Once fed and re-energized, we returned to Old Woman Bay, but this time it was to climb the trail on the opposite side of the Trans-Canada, the Nokomis Trail. We parked our vehicles in the Old Woman Bay parking lot (our park passes gave us free parking) and walked across the highway, which is typically easy to do as traffic isn't that dense.

The trail is a bit of a challenge, with some rocky climbs and steep sections. I would find myself stopping occasionally to get my heart rate down to an acceptable level.

Nokomis is a loop trail that supposedly takes two hours to complete but we just wanted to take it to the lookout points. Taking the left path on the trail gets you up to three lookout points, where you can view Old Woman Bay from above, and you can reach the highest lookout point in half an hour.

We got our views and decided to turn around, making the trip just over an hour with the stops.

On our way down, our friend, who was a bit ahead of us, spotted a lynx in the woods, just off the path. We must have been downwind from it, though I wondered why our footsteps wouldn't have alerted it of our presence.

As soon as our friend spotted it, she called out. DW and I heard movement in the bushes but we saw nothing. Even my 360-degree camera, which had been running at the time, captured nothing.

I got cocky and started calling out: "Here, kitty-kitty!"

Back at camp, I grilled some bacon-wrapped steaks, which we had with salad, and watched the sun set over Agawa Bay. Later that evening, we watched the Perseid meteor shower. I set up my Insta360 camera for a star-lapse video, and went to bed with a 5:00 alarm to remind me to turn off the camera before sunrise.

We still had several days ahead of us, with more hiking and paddling.

Stay tuned.