2024 - Big East Lake

Haliburton Highlands, Big East Lake, Site 3

This may be our last canoe camping trip. Or maybe not. Our peers have long since advanced to RVs and cottages. But, for whatever reason, we’re still sleeping on the ground and pushing our limits, while sparing our pocket books. The magic of private, lakeside views is still strong for us.

Those exploring this site for themselves can find more pictures and experiences in our 2011 – Big East Lake album from a previous trip.

Re-creation

There have been a couple of duds amongst our canoe camping trips, because of weather, location or circumstances. So when we felt the urge to try again we decided to play it safe and go with what we know. Wolf Lake we’d already done twice, so we picked Big East, with its great view. We also knew about the portage, of course, and the heavy load we would bear. But we’d done it once so we figured we could do it again. Perhaps we are just thumbing our nose at aging, but our bodies have not protested.

This was our eleventh canoe camping trip since 2010, and a repeat of 2011. Since then Henry has gone from prime time 55 to a retiring 68. The differences are notable, primarily in diminishing balance and bladder fortitude. This may be our last trip.
This is the most recent of a series of eleven canoe camping trips
We left home at the reasonable hour of 7:00 and made good time, mostly because this was the July holiday Monday, and perhaps because of the shortcut over Lake Simcoe (thanks Google Timeline). We made it to Big East by 11:30.
Somehow we missed the access point parking lot and had to drive some distance before we could turn around. There’s only a small street number sign (5128).
There were lots of cars and some big puddles in the parking lot. For the next three hours we carried and ferried our stuff to campsite three – multiple trips up and down the portage trail and two trips across the lake.
The killer for this destination is the 250 m inclined, uneven trail from the parking lot to the lake. On this day there was also mud. Not fun, but character building.
By three all of our stuff was gathered again in this lovely place. Then the scramble continued to get cooking facilities built and our tent set up.
But we managed to get our first supper cooked and eaten by six. From there we could finally relax and settle into the surroundings.
Before the first day was done, I had to run a high line between two trees for hoisting our food up and out of reach of hypothetical mammals. This is the view, next morning, before they were lowered for the day.
The water stayed calm the whole week, sometimes even glass smooth. But there was a fair bit of stuff floating on the surface, especially on the last day.
We enjoyed our first coffee of the trip on the middle terrace, with the rising sun full in our face.
This site has the good fortune of having lily pads close by on either side.
Bright light enabled this sharp picture of a white lily.
We had our breakfast of sausage rounds at the civilized time of ten a.m. As last time, Henry did some rigging with ropes and lumber to provide working surfaces.
By late afternoon we were ready for a paddle up one side of our peninsula and down the other,
There wasn’t much to see anymore in the way of flowers, beside the usual lilies and pickerel weeds. This stand of swamp candles was unusual.
By next morning (Wednesday) the skies were no longer clear and we were faced with a forecast of afternoon rain.
By breakfast time, Henry had already strung up two ropes to fly a cover against the rain. The sun came off and on that morning, enough to get in a bit of sunning.
We had Dutch pancakes (gluten free) with bacon for breakfast. For the five day trip we used only 1.7 lbs of propane for cooking, coffee and hot water for dishes.
With all ropes at the ready, we delayed putting up the fly as long as possible. Note the bug zapper, which we made good use of, especially in our tent. During our stay we were moderately plagued by mosquitos and biting flies.
By one we were under cover and ready for rain. This fly is old but still useful.
The rain started around two. It’s lovely to watch openly from under cover, even if some of it drips through the fly.
Bathing suits are the best anti-dote to rain (when it’s warm). An umbrella comes in handy too.
It’s magic to watch the drops, their circles and larger patterns play on the water.
A couple of families of geese made their way along the shore that afternoon.
Grey skies and rippling water to calm the soul.
The fly setup worked well to keep the water from pooling, even during the heavier rain. It gave us enough head room for sitting, but not for standing.
Our access point for the canoe has a good collection of stepping stones for dry feet exits and entries.
As usual, our tent easily weathered the rain.
There were some periods of calm around four, but the rain didn’t stop for good till five.
Overcast skies make a good backdrop for silhouettes.
These pine trees reached out to each other from across the water.
Separating the light from the darkness.
The geese came around again.
Our kitchen was not covered, so it’s a good thing the rain stopped when it did.
Supper was served at twenty to seven.
The skies were getting brighter when the cooler was readied for raising.
This block and tackle set was left behind 25 years ago by our home’s previous long-term owners. Les Bird was a Great Lakes pilot. His son Bill was a local radio personality. The mechanical advantage of these 3 + 2 pulleys is 5. So the weight is reduced to one fifth.
We carried the cooler in with eight of these, filled with water and frozen solid. After two days there was still some ice, and a day later they were still cold. These 8 litres supplemented our 10 litre water box and gave us just enough for cooking and coffee.
There’s no sunset to see from this site, but we could enjoy the light that it casts on opposite shores.
The cleared skies boded well for the coming day.
The next morning (Thursday, our last full day) the early sun had to break through some clouds, but it soon shone hot on our site.
The way the sun shines into the pine forest from the side is quite delightful.
We’ve never seen an abundance of wildlife on trips like these. But I did get this picture of one probable black-capped chickadee.
Thursday was to be our day for swimming and sunning. The rock face slopes too much for easily entering the water, unless you venture into the lily pad muck. So we did use a rope to haul ourselves out and let ourselves in.
On the way out of the water through the lily pad muck, Henry picked up a leech and was fascinated by the bleeding. No lasting harm done. No benefit either.
By one o’clock the lower level starts to lose the sun, so lying around has to be in the morning.
Wendy continued reading, despite the perfect weather. She managed to get through the whole of Ken Follett’s “The Armor of Light” on her Kobo.
After visiting cathedrals last summer, Henry experimented with vertical panoramas.
For our evening canoe jaunt we headed into another arm of the lake. Not too far out we passed by a site full of young campers making lots of noise.
From our campsite we saw a couple of loons regularly fishing away from shore (too far away for picture taking). Here we passed by one more closely.
There are a couple of cottages on Big East Lake. So, once in a while we heard small engines.
Still water and sunshine can make for some evocative photos. Even without sunshine the reflections are worth reflection.
There were many more such photos besides these two.
Coming back to campsite. Wendy’s life jacket is 44 years old (honeymoon vintage). The canoe is probably older (from before Kevlar) and weighs 76 lbs. I portaged that alone and got a very good (free) workout doing so.
The water seemed a bit chilly at first, but it measured a comfortable 24 degrees Celsius.
On our final morning, an early rise for relief at six gave us this view. Sunrises and sunsets have always been favoured subjects while canoe camping.
The wide view shows blue sky coming on what was to be another hot day.
The panorama view.
Long shadows dividing the low light of the sun.
On our final (Friday) morning, a coffee toast to a beautiful place, before the work of moving out. Traffic was not so kind going home as it had been coming up.