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Viki Mather: A holiday away from modern life recharges the soul

Escape the mechanization, embrace simplification and get out into the wilderness for a change
240717_VM_in-the-bush
A patchwork of rocky islands line Phillip Edward Island on Georgian Bay. (Viki Mather, In the Bush)

We launched the canoe at Chikanishing Creek just as the morning rain abated. Lucky start to the day! The west wind gave a gentle nudge to the canoe as we paddled east along Collins Inlet.  

Every so often we could hear the quiet rush of water from little streams coming through the forest. It’s been a wet summer.

The gentle wind kept us on track as we lunched in the canoe. I sat in the bow, facing backwards as we dined. This gave a great view of the building clouds to the west. We drifted in the sun, but could see weather coming. 

The inlet widens at Mill Lake. The sun came and went. I would look over my shoulder now and then while paddling, especially when I heard the rumble of thunder. Keep paddling? Sure. The bits of sun urged us on. 

Four hours into the trip we had covered 20 kilometres. It would be another two kilometres to Beaverstone Bay. We knew the shoreline along this stretch had few places to get out of the canoe. Steep cliff or thick bush lines the southern shore. The north shore is private.   

Our attempt to outrun the storm was about to end. A small outcrop of bedrock gave us an opportunity to escape. We managed to unload the canoe ad set up the tarp under a short but well-branched white pine just as the first big drops fell from the sky.  

We enjoyed a second lunch while counting the seconds between the light and the rumble. The closest lightning strike was a kilometre away. Soon enough, the sun broke through the clouds and we were on our way again.

As always, we scouted some of the islands for future camping opportunities, then wandered along the eastern shore of Beaverstone Bay. We stopped only once, as we still wanted to cover a few more kilometres before finding a place to stay for a couple of days. It was at a narrow place between the shore and a long narrow island. A lovely old camp was tucked into the forest, and a family played on the dock. We learned about their 40+ year history at this spot. 

Their deep contentment of living on the land matched our deep contentment of travelling on the water. Northern Georgian Bay holds a quiet beauty.  

The eastern edge of Phillip Edward Island has very few dwellings. Sadly, the newer ones are glaringly evident. It took a while to find an island to camp on that retained pure views of wilderness.

Over the next six days, we paddled our little canoe in and out of the thousands of big and little islands on the south side of Phillip Edward Island. This is the most beautiful place in the world. There are vast views of Georgian Bay, the LaCloche mountains in the background. Glacial polished bedrock islands and shoals protect our small craft from wind and waves.

Getting away from everyday responsibilities, away from the mechanizations of modern life, getting back to the simplicity of just being with the spirit of the land … it puts life in perspective. 

Wilderness soothes the soul.   

Viki Mather has been commenting for Northern Life on the natural world and life in Greater Sudbury since the spring of 1984. Got a question or idea for Viki? Send an email to [email protected].


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