Algonquin is a friendly forest. It has rounded deep green peaks, gentle sloped rock faces bordering curved lakes, soft pine and cedar ceilings, mist rising off the warm fresh water on quiet mornings, and gentle loon calls sing you to sleep. Its friendliness encourages you to also be open and free, forming friendships with your fellow travellers through shared challenges and peaceful pauses. If you try hard enough, the mosquitos and deer flies can even be interpreted as friendly; aren’t they just saying hello in lazy circles around our heads during portages or landing quietly on our thighs to join campfire conversation?
It’s into this friendly forest that our group of 12 set off at the northernmost border of Algonquin Park for the Brent Run Epic Trip last weekend. Four canoes and the common goal of making it through 88 km of wilderness together over five days. With a range of experience levels and different skill sets (and a healthy Millennial vs. Gen Z rivalry) our group became close over the course of the trip, never hesitating to double back to help others on a portage even when our own loads had been heavy.
We paddled together under clear blue skies that first day, getting to know each other slowly until a 2.2 km uphill portage accelerated our bonding ten-fold. A long line of us trekked up that hill with 40 – 80 pounds of weight on our backs or shouldering canoes, imagining the delicious finishing point of our first campsite. We thankfully all made it and were able to settle in for a much needed swim by beautiful rapids, and enjoyed our first dinner together by the fire.
The second day was our longest day covering 25 km of portaging and paddling, floating over lakes that were so still they reflected the symmetry of the horizon line perfectly in front of us. Our canoes parted fields of lily pads with open white blossoms, and I counted storybook toadstools in the mossy paths lining our portage routes. Our 8 portages that day challenged our foot work with rocky terrain, but we eventually arrived at our second campsite high above the water. We swam, hung wet socks and shirts, and went through the roses and thorns of the day in what was starting to feel more like family mealtime.
The sun wasn’t there to greet us on our third morning, but we made the most of an early start for what would be our longest paddling day where we learned how to line canoes down shallow waters and even how to sail our four rafted canoes using a tarp. Thanks to our now impressive paddling skills, we managed to make our way to our island campsite early, giving us plenty of time to set up tents, rest, and have a swim before showers fell and thunder rolled in the distance. With more time at camp we were able to learn about knot tying together, goof around on a tree that lay like a pier extending from shore, or take some quiet time lying against reclined rocks. Our campfire that night was made even warmer by stories and poetry recitations, singing and building our cache of inside jokes together. We watched the pink sun descend in a thin strip below a heavy bank of clouds, and headed into our tents just before a torrential downpour soaked our site all night long.
he fourth day was rainy from start to finish, giving us the chance to really test how pruned our fingers and toes could get over the course of our 21 km travels. The bright side of that day was the Otter Slides, a special test of our steering skills as paddlers winding our way through kilometres of tight canals bordered by tall reeds. We watched our group’s heads bob above the reeds as we made our way through this incredible ecosystem, and kept our fingers crossed for wildlife sightings. Two of our canoes were rewarded by the sight of an enormous moose making his way across the river in front of us, then breaking through trees back into the forest. Our day was long and soggy, but nothing singing and sour candy couldn’t fix as we rallied spirits and continued on toward our final campsite on Burnt Island Lake.
Our last campfire was sweet and valiantly built with wet wood. We shared memories and our Guides Rory and Zac shared the special trail names they’d picked for each of us to commemorate our time in this friendly place. It was hard to believe most of us were strangers before; we were so used to the rituals of gathering and sharing, helping and lifting each other up (literally and figuratively) as a team. We all knew that first day that getting to the final destination would only happen if we worked together, but maybe only truly felt the impact of that unity as the trip drew to a close.
The fifth and final day was mercifully warm and sunny, drying the wet clothes we had to wear that morning within a couple hours of paddling. Our portaging that final day was a well-oiled machine operated by stronger arms and legs. The wind picked up as we made our way down Canoe Lake to our final destination, and we decided to try the sail again one last time. I think we were all delirious with happiness and shock when the sail filled perfectly with the lake’s strong breeze and carried us toward the finish line. A couple hearty rounds of “Let’s Go Fly a Kite” and baffled looks from passing paddlers carried us to the final stretch where we dropped the sail and paddled confidently toward the docks of Algonquin Outfitters.
This trip was life affirming for me, reminding me of how much the friendly forests of Ontario give back to those of us coming in for a long weekend or a massive challenge like the Brent Run. You can learn about yourself and build meaning alongside others when your phone is on airplane mode and the entertainment is left to the group. We felt safe and comfortable enough to be vulnerable together, which is definitely due to the incredible care and dedication of our Guides.
Having been winter camping with Wilderness Union in January, I know these Epic memories quickly come up in conversation. I can’t wait to reminisce with my fellow Brent Runners as the year goes on, remembering those beautiful days and the friendly forest that brought us all closer together.
