Trip Reports, Campsites & More
Year in Review (2023)
The Moosie Awards (Part One)
Welcome to the 8th annual Golden Moose Awards. Of course, Golden Moose Awards is just what’s on the application to join the Ancient Society of Made Up Awards Shows. You and I and Ryan Gosling (probably) know these awards as The Moosies. Or maybe you don’t! Maybe you’re new to All of Algonquin, and this is your first time reading our year end (*cough* “year end” yet somehow not coming out until March *cough*) awards post. If so, welcome! The Moosies are my roundup of the past tripping year where I hand out awards in such meaningful categories as Best Swimming, Thunderiest Thunderbox and Worst Portage (also halfway useful categories like Best Campsite and Best Trip).
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Whether you’re a long time reader or someone who has just stumbled into this slightly waterlogged corner of the internet for the first time, I think you’re in for a treat. This year’s Moosies include some award winners that I would put up against all the other winners in their respective categories since this started. It would be like putting Titanic up against Forrest Gump up against No Country for Old Men up against Saving Priva… wait, they gave the Oscar to Shakespeare in Love over Saving Private Ryan? Man, the 90s were weird. Regardless, there are no Shakespeare in Loves in this year’s awards. All our winners this year are pure Avatar (wait, that lost too!?)
As always, this will be split into two posts. Part One will cover the smaller awards like Best Waterfall and Best Portage (which is an oxymoron). Part Two will cover the big ones like Best Campsite, Best Route and Best Lake. I’m not going to lie, if you’ve been reading along this year it probably doesn’t look like there’s going to be much drama in the Best Route category. I have repeatedly called one of this year’s trips an all-timer, easily in my lifetime top five. That said, the category is Best Route, not Best Trip. So maybe there’s some wriggle room there. Because, while I know what the best trip of the year was, I’m not convinced it’s the best route.
I guess there’s only one way to find out! Let’s get started.
Best Waterfall
Let’s start this one off with a bang. Or I guess a roar. This was a good year for waterfalls for me. My trips this year included some of the biggest waterfalls in the Park, and some others that maybe weren’t so big but were still well worth the visit. That said, while I would highly recommend visits to both Pen Falls and the falls in between Phipps and Kirwood Lake (those smaller falls I just mentioned) this is really a two horse category this year.
First up, we’ve got the pair of falls along the Petawawa just before it feeds into Cedar. Is it cheating to put two separate falls together? Maybe. But the nice thing about a made up award in a made up awards post run entirely by me is that I get to decide what’s cheating and what isn’t. And, yes, two falls for the price of one is cheating. So let’s just focus on my favourite of the two, the last falls before Cedar. On the new Algonquin map from Maps by Jeff, these falls are called “Hollywood Falls”, and I am 100% on board with that name. Honestly, they feel kind of epic (and it’s nice to see a high set of falls in the Park that isn’t just named “High Falls”). While they’re not named High Falls, these are definitely tall falls, among the tallest in the Park. I was there in early September and the crush of water rushing over the rocks and spilling down towards Cedar was still impressive. There’s a short path down to the top of the falls from a nearby portage (turns out you’d have a tough time paddling up these ones), and some rocks that were clearly put there by the Algonquin Falls Appreciation Society to make for the perfect place to watch the water flow past. We were there on a gorgeous fall day, with blue skies overheard and the sun twinkling off the water. In other words, it was pretty much a perfect waterfall experience.
So, we’ve got our winner, right?
Well, no. Because there’s another set of high falls, this time named (sigh) High Falls, that are going to take home this year’s statue (despite the absolute lack of creativity from their naming committee).
This year’s winner comes to us from the Nipissing River, in the heart of the Park. These falls are in the middle of a P1290 just west of the Remona Lake junction, and kind of come out of nowhere. One minute you’re walking along a fairly reasonable (if muddy AF) trail, the next the ground to your right disappears and you’re putting one foot in front of the other along a narrow path with a sheer drop beside you and a tumult of white water crashing down nearby.
I don’t think High Falls on the Nipissing (which is maybe the official name?) is quite as tall as Hollywood Falls, but they looked to be wider. The water spills over a series of ledges before narrowing once again into a sort of chute and flowing onwards. There are two stages to the falls, a tighter top (like the Nip is wearing a belt) and a much wider middle. The middle in particular is pretty cool. We were there in the spring and there was enough flow to create a strong curtain across the the entire wall of rock. The water bounced off of various ledges and boulders; flows splitting and recombining and splitting again and looking like the world’s wettest and most confusing game of Plinko.
And that’s it. This year’s Best Waterfall. If you decide to head out that way, the view of the falls from the portage is spectacular. (just maybe put the canoe down before appreciating it. That path along the wall really is narrow, and the drop to the river below would be leg breaking, if not worse).
(BTW, if you’re seeing a massive white space between that last paragraph and this one, sorry about that. You should have been looking at a video of High Falls, and who knows, maybe you were! When I look at it in the draft area in looks like it’s embedded properly. When I look at it in the preview that’s supposed to show what people see when they actually look at the post, it’s not there. Let me know which one it is for you).
Best Swimming
I swam a bunch this year. Which seems like a pointless thing to write now that I think about it. Of course I swam a bunch. I was on canoe trip. Do people go on canoe trips and not swim? Why would you do that? I guess if you were worried about lake sharks you might stay on land, but that’s silly. There haven’t been any lake sharks since the last of them learned how to walk and moved into the forests. So, yes, I swam a bunch this year. More importantly, as least as far as this category is concerned, I swam in some pretty awesome spots, which isn’t always as guaranteed to happen as the act of swimming itself.
Of those awesome spots, there are two incredibly strong candidates in this year’s category that stand out above the rest. Coincidentally enough, I visited both spots on the same trip. In fact, I visited both spots on the same day of trip, within a couple of hours of each other. The first was on Radiant Lake, on a campsite we stopped at for lunch. The second spot was a couple of lakes north of Radiant, on Clamshell Lake, where we found a gem of a site and an even shinier gem of a swimming area. Let’s start with Radiant.
The swimming spot on Radiant was off a campsite on Radiant’s west shore, right where the Petawawa drains into the lake. This was an awesome site, all exposed rock and great views (and including the most comfortable fireside bench I’ve ever found in the backcountry). The best thing about this site was the rocky shoreline, which provided plenty of places to slip (or jump) into the water. The lake bottom drops away from the shoreline fairly quickly in places, meaning that we were able to dive off of a low ledge and jump off of some higher ones (this is the part where I remind you to always thoroughly check the depth for yourself before jumping from any cliff or ledge in the Park. Lake water can hide surprises, and it’s much better to find those surprises on a duck dive than it is to find them with a headfirst one). We spent the better part of an hour swimming around this site, before drying off on the sun drenched rocks. It was awesome.
Also awesome for swimming? That campsite on Clamshell I mentioned off the top. There’s only one site on Clamshell, and it sits on top of a rocky outcrop in the lake’s northeast corner. There’s a small set of falls that tumbles down into Clamshell just up from the site, but those are just the remnant of a much larger set of falls that used to empty here a long time ago. Those ancient falls were so big, the force of the water flowing over them was so strong, that the bottom of Clamshell Lake is 210 feet below the waterline in front of Clamshell’s campsite (which explains why I couldn’t find my water shoe when it slipped off during my swim). So, deep water is cool, but what makes the swimming at Clamshell so great? Well, like Radiant, the site is fronted by a rocky shelf that is tailor made for jumping. It is also, it turns out, tailor made for rope swinging, as there’s a tall … we’ll call it a pine … right beside the water to which someone with more climbing ability than me has attached a rope swing.
And that rope swing is fun.
In fact, that rope swing is the difference maker. To be honest, a part of me wants to give this award to the Radiant spot, but I think that’s more of a whole campsite preference than a swimming preference. If I was picking between the two sites to spend a couple of days, it would probably be Radiant. But if I was picking between the two sites for an afternoon of swimming? Well, it’s pretty hard to beat a rope swing. I haven’t had as much fun swimming in the Park as I had on Clamshell Lake in a long time. Maybe ever. And that, right there, is why the rope swing ledge on Clamshell Lake is this year’s Best Swimming winner!
Thunderiest Thunderbox
Look, this is cheating, but this year’s winner of the Thunderiest Thunderbox award isn’t even a Thunderbox. It’s a ThunderHouse. The Birchcliffe Cabin ThunderHouse to be precise. What’s a ThunderHouse? It’s Thunderbox with a door and a roof. And I can’t tell you how much that roof is appreciated when it’s early May, there’s snow swirling across Birchcliffe Lake and last night’s chili won’t wait. For a ThunderHouse, it didn’t even smell that bad! In fact, it was generally a much less disgusting structure than some of the other ThunderHouses I’ve run across in the Park. It’s solidly built, and clearly receives some kind of regular maintenance. It’s not the roomiest of outhouses, but the green plastic roof provides a bit of light so it doesn’t feel like a cave when the door is closed. All in all, I’ll take the Birchcliffe ThunderHouse over every other privy I saw this summer, which means we’ve got this year’s winner. Let’s move on. I think we’ve spent enough time talking about outhouses.
Best Portage
I’ve had a hard time figuring out how to judge this category. What makes a portage the best? I mean, portages kind of suck, no matter what. So by that logic wouldn’t the best portage be the one that’s over the fastest? Like, shouldn’t the default winner for this category be the Joe Lake portage every year? That thing is short, flat and somehow feels like it’s downhill both ways. Or maybe the best portage should be the one that’s the got the most memorable scenery? In that case wouldn’t we be talking about the P380 between Pen Lake and Rock Lake this year? That’s an easy enough carry that takes you past the picturesque Pen Falls. I was there at the height of fall colours this year, and it was absolutely spectacular.
Or maybe it’s the one that leaves you feeling the most accomplished when it’s over? Last year’s winner in this category, the p5350 Dickson to Bonfield carry, certainly ticked that box. That said, the one that left me feeling most accomplished this year was the P1010 Little Osler to Little Nadine with the fun little name of “Heart Attack Hill”. Unfortunately, the main feeling of accomplishment I got from this one was not having had that promised heart attack and I feel like the bar has to be higher than not dying to give something a Moosie.
So which one of these is the best way to pick a winner? Honestly, I don’t know. Probably a mix of all three. (Last year’s winner fits that bill as well. Turns out you can cram a ton of great scenery into five kilometers of forest, and despite it being a two hour carry, it felt like a fast two hour carry). But I do know that every time I’ve thought about this category this year that P380 between Pen and Rock has inevitably worked its way to the top of the list.
Which means we’ve got our winner.
I really liked this carry. It’s not very long, but it throws a bit of elevation at you (which is to be expected of a portage that goes around a waterfall) and you finish it feeling like you’ve actually done a bit of work. It’s a nicely set up trail, with boardwalks where they’re useful and lots of little offshoot paths to take you down to the river if you want to check out the scenery. The put in/take out at both ends is easy to navigate (there’s a dock at the Pen Lake end) and there’s plenty of room to get your gear in order on both sides, which is nice because this is a busy portage so you’re probably going to be sharing the staging areas with other trips. All in all it’s a decent portage, and in a year where I did a bunch of portages that are challenging enough that they’ve been given names like “Devil’s Staircase”, “Unicorn Hill” and “Heart Attack Hill” it’s kind of nice to look back at a carry that was just … nice.
Worst Portage
While I kind of struggled with this year’s Best Portage category. I did not struggle with this category. Not at all (I saved all the struggling for the actual portage). Welcome to the P800 on the Petawawa River between Radiant and Cedar.
Man, that thing sucks.
Look. On the surface, this portage doesn’t seem like it should be this year’s winner. To start with, it’s not that long. In fact, it’s nearly three KM shorter than the longest carry I did this summer. It’s a regular maintenance carry that’s easy to follow and well travelled. It takes you between two pretty stretches of the Petawawa, and the scenery along the way is fine. So what’s wrong with it? Everything. Everything is wrong with it.
Coming from the Radiant direction you immediately start with a steep-ish uphill section. It’s not the longest stretch, but the last 20 feet or so of the uphill feels like someone took a warped wall from American Ninja Warrior, threw some loose gravel on it and told you to get over it with a canoe on your shoulders. The carry does level out, somewhat, but only because the rocks, root and muck want some flatter ground to go to work on your ankles. The rest of the portage is a narrow trail, with lots of ups and downs combined with uncertain footing and all the tripping hazards you could ask for. Towards the upstream end, the path gets kind of mucky as well, in case you weren’t finding the rocky, root-y, narrow path frustrating enough. I dunno. For a relatively short portage, I found this thing exhausting, both physically and mentally. But, it’s done now. And so is this category.
Best Ranger Cabin
I stayed in two of the Park’s Ranger Cabins this year, the Birchcliffe Lake Cabin and the Highview Cabin on the Nipissing River. (In case you’re not familiar with the Park’s Ranger Cabins, there are a handful of decommissioned ranger cabins scattered throughout the Park that are available to rent for a night (or more)). These were bucket list spots for me. I’d been looking at both of these cabins for a long time, and was really happy I could get a night in each as part of my ice out trip.
Both Highview and Birchcliffe are cool cabins from different eras in the Park’s history. The Highview Cabin was built in the 1920s on the remains of an old logging camp and served as a stopping point for Rangers making their rounds through the Park. The Birchcliffe Cabin was built in the 1960s as a base for the Ranger manning the not-so-nearby Osler fire tower. The Highview cabin is a one room log cabin while the Birchcliffe Cabin is a three room structure that is, frankly, 1000% less drafty than Highview. Highview is built in the middle of a portage along the Nipissing River and has some cool history nearby in the form of overgrown foundations from that logging camp. Birchcliffe Cabin is built on a hill on Birchcliffe’s south shore and has a great view of the lake. Both are fantastic places to spend the night, and well worth the stop.
But if I could only stay in one of those cabins again? If I had to choose? It would be the Birchcliffe Cabin, every time.
First of all, I was staying in these cabins in mid May when the nighttime temperatures were getting into the negatives. All I wanted from these cabins was a wood stove and some insulation. They both provided the wood stove, but the Birchcliffe Cabin did a much better job of holding the heat (I think we got it up to 23 inside while it was snowing outside). Also, the Birchcliffe Cabin has two separate bedrooms, which means that your trip partner gets a one night reprieve from listening to you shift and snore on your increasingly disappointing Therm-a-Rest (that sounds like you’re sleeping on extra crinkly aluminum foil every time you shift). Outside, I really liked Birchcliffe Lake. It’s a beautiful (and remote!) spot and you feel like you’ve accomplished something when you arrive. I didn’t get a chance to test the swimming at Birchcliffe (it was snowing when we were there, which is not an ideal time for a dip), but I’m confident it’s better than the swimming at Highview. While the Nip in front of Highview sure looks pretty in the setting sun, nothing about that shallow stretch of river screams “Swim Here!”. Finally, Birchcliffe Cabin is just better set up inside. The table is better, there’s a decent counter, and, crucially, the interior doesn’t smell like a grow op, which is not something I can say for Highview. So, congrats Birchcliffe Cabin! You’re this year’s best Ranger Cabin (and it wasn’t close).
Best Sunrise/Sunset
Best … Sunrise? Who are we kidding. I haven’t seen a sunrise in God knows how long, and I don’t plan on seeing one anytime soon. Fortunately, the sun sets at a much more reasonable time than it rises, and I happened to see that side of the solar coin more than a few times this year.
My trip with my daughter through Bonnechere Lake and Lake Louisa was particularly good for sunsets. Night one found us sitting on top of a tall rock wall in Bonnechere’s south basin, watching the sun drop to the horizon and reading our books. The company was fantastic and the sunset, while brief, was quite pretty. There was a 10 minute window where the sun dropped below the clouds but before it hit the tree line where the sun looked like a massive orange comet crashing (in slow motion) to Earth. Night two on Lake Louisa gave us a few less clouds and a few more colours, and was just as memorable.
But, as great as those sunsets were, neither of them are this year’s winner. Why? Because it’s kind of hard to compete with this:
This sunset was over Philip Lake on my Labour Day trip. We stayed on an awesome campsite on Philip’s south shore that night. One of the best features of the site (along with the awesome beach and nice fire pit set up) was a great little point that was perfectly situated to sit and watch the sun put on a show on its way to bed. And the sun that night was happy to oblige.
This sunset was particularly awesome because for a while there it looked like it wasn’t going to happen. Initially it looked like the sky was perfectly set up for it. There was a thin layer of gauzy cloud across the horizon, the kind that you just know is going to look incredible once those rays start bouncing off of them from below. We sat on the rocks watching the sun make its way below the clouds, waiting for the colours to show up. And they didn’t. For the longest time, they just didn’t. The sun dipped closer and closer to the tree line and … nothing. Sure, it lit the clouds a bit, but there wasn’t a hint of colour to be seen. It was like I was watching Dorothy and Toto before the twister. Just when I had decided that we weren’t going to get much of a sunset, that first bit of orange showed up. And then, well I’ll let September me describe it because he did a pretty decent job the first time:
“As the sun dipped towards the trees it started illuminating the wisps of cloud stretched across the sky from below. First the edges of the clouds were lined silver, then they were painted orange and red, and then it seemed like the entire sky was on fire. It was gorgeous.”
You’re right September Drew, it was gorgeous. And it’s also this year’s Best Sunset.
That’s it for Part One of this year’s Moosies. We’ll be back in a few days with Part Two and categories like Best Campsite, Best Lake and Best Route. Until then, if you missed the first of my Year in Review Posts, Lessons Learned, there’s some sage advice related to not subjecting your 40 year old body to 40 years worth of portages on the first trip of the season. Also, something about portals to demon dimensions and the benefits of actually looking at a map. It’s a good read! Go check it out!