JOURNEY #44: June 31 - August 2, 2004

Galeairy Lake: "The Perfect Weekend"

PICTURES

A little floating and reading
Luxurious facilities
An interesting feature of one Galeairy campsite
Enjoying a roaring fire
Nice fish!
Fish close up
Where the fish kept coming from
Looking out over Night Lake
Loony greeting
A creepy Night Lake resident

TRIP REPORT

We initially considerd Galeairy (pronounced "gal-ear-ee") Lake for no better reason than the access point at Whitney being one of the easiest means of entering Algonquin Park. A bit of web research yielded only a couple of trip reports, most of which mentioned Galeairy only with reference to getting to or from Rock Lake and other lakes to which it is connected. However, one report mentioned a lovely campsite in a small bay at the southwest tip of Galeairy. With just a three day weekend at our disposal, we were much more interested in finding a peaceful home base rather than engaging in a hasty trip schedule full of portages, loading, and unloading.

We arrived in the area late Friday night, and after a late snack of chili and salad at the Mad Musher we almost gave up on finding a place to stay for the night (thunderstorms appeared imminent, so setting up the tent was not our favourite option) but got lucky with the last room at the bed and breakfast closest to the east gate. Saturday morning we checked in at the East gate (efficient but not particularly pleasant service) made a quick stop at the local grocery store and then found our way to the Algonquin parking lot and boat launch access. It was packed with cars, giving us cause for worry that the lake would be filled with motor boats.

After much fussing about with gear, we set off in a slight drizzle. After about two kilometres, Julie posed an intriguing question: "Did you lock the van?" After some deep thought, Keenan could not come up with a conclusive response, so he paddled back. Julie decided to share the suffering so she paddled back too. You want to know, don't you? It's a remote key, so it remains a mystery. Neither of us wants to know.

The skies were overcast which made for wonderful paddling weather. And much to our surprise, there was not another boat of any kind on the lake. We got all the way to the north side of the Farm Bay area before we saw one, and that's only because it was docked outside what we believe to be the only cottage on the lake that is located inside the park boundary. You can see it's location on the Algonquin canoe route map (the little black square).

From this point on the lake is quite interesting. Lots of twists and turns, small bays, and islands. We passed a group of four canoeists having lunch on one of the islands. There were a lot of canoeists camping in the northwest area of the lake, presumably coming and going from the portage to Rock Lake.

As we took the turn south we were getting a bit tired and also a bit concerned. We were putting all our eggs in one basket, after all...hoping that the only campsite in the southwest corner would be available! As we continued south we kept peering west with trepidation...would we have to double back and try to find another site? Luckily, it was available.

The view of the site from the east is not that flattering, but it is indeed a wonderful spot. There are two good places to land a kayak or canoe, the fire pit is right next to the lake, and to the west there is a wonderful rock face with a smooth top. We sat up there to read, eat, relax, and fish. The small bay beneath that little cliff is just full of fish! Keenan pulled (and released) at least thirty of them in two days. They were mostly rock bass, but also some very nice largemouth bass as well.

Late Saturday afternoon as we set up camp many loons swam past and stopped to fish. We were curious to see what lay on the other side of the portage to Night Lake to the west, so we took a little paddle down there before dinner. It's a lovely marshy area. We got out and walked the short portage. Night Lake is not much bigger than the bay just to the east of our campsite, but it is nice to look at, and possibly a place that moose might frequent. If you paddle to the other end of the lake there is a long portage to Pen Lake.

We paddled back to the campsite where Julie grabbed a book and Keenan grabbed his fishing rod. We paddled down to the southernmost point of the lake, which is also another (infrequently used) portage site. Julie glided around the bay reading, and Keenan got introduced to a big population of rock bass. There's also an old set of stone steps which once lead to a structure that appears long gone. There is a little square on the map, however, so maybe if you crash through the woods you could find an old foundation or something.

Another nice thing about this campsite was there was actually enough wood lying around to build a fire. We brought a package of hot dogs along which needed to be eaten, so Julie set about building a fire, and Keenan made some deluxe Kraft dinner on the butane stove. We ate that first, and then sat around the fire (it was now dark) for the weenie roast. There were some mosquitos about, but surprisingly few considering the wildness of the area.

It was an uneventful night. The tent was on a bit of a slope, and we woke up with our feet knocking on the door, but it was cool and the air was pure. We had few ambitions for Sunday. Julie set up for some reading in the sun, and Keenan started to fish the small bay from the cliff. The biggest challenge was getting the fish back into the water after reeling them in. He had to unhook them and scurry down the rocks to get them back in the water. Happily, not one fish failed to swim away.

The highlight of the day came as Keenan was seeking a new angle to remove his lure from a tree. Julie came running up the rocks as he pointed down into a sunny spot in the shallow waters of the bay...she was rewarded for her efforts with a view of an enormous snapping turtle. It was just massive! It slowly glided over the shallows and then slipped off into the darkness. Beautiful, in a prehistoric sort of way!

In the afternoon we went for a swim. The water was quite warm. The same canoeists we had seen eating lunch on Saturday came paddling by and we chatted briefly about the weather. Later in the day two women paddled around the corner and tentatively got our attention. The woman at the stern did not appear terribly pleased. The woman in the front, holding a map, inquired "Is there a portage near here?" [Yes] "Which oneis it?" [To Night Lake]. "Where?" [Night Lake]. "Oh." [Where did you want to go]. "Echo Bay." With that, the lady in the stern gave a rather aggressive jerk of her thumb (towards the north) to her paddling partner and they were off. You don't have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out that there was a disagreement about how to interpret the map, although one has to wonder why anyone travels the interior of Algonquin Park without a compass!

Sunday night the loons were very active and they used up their entire repertoire of songs, calls, and noises. The sky was clear so the stars were visible through the mesh canopy. After the loons went to bed, the only noise was a little mouse that squeeked around looking for crumbs. Finding none, and with the garbage suspended some 15 feet above the ground, he too went to bed.

It was another good sleep and we woke early. Keenan got in a few more casts and caught a few more fish. Then the packing began. It seemed to go well, but somehow we left the air mattress behind! A gift to whoever follows. It's a queen, fits tents designed for four quite nicely. Sorry, pump not included. Oh, also one pair of women's shoes. Size 9.

The paddle back was a hot one, but in the larger areas of the lake the wind kept us cool. Again, there were few boats around. We saw only two motor boats on the move, and one was on the other side of the park border. We navigated through a group of four canoes with three paddlers each, apparently some kind excursion with "leaders" at the stern. Ironically (but not unusually) the "leaders" were the only people in the canoes without life jackets. Whatever your view on personal choice and the wearing of PFDs, when you are responsible for the safety of others it doesn't make sense that you could end up trying to save someone by putting yourself at unecessary risk of drowning.

Anyway, we arrived back at the boat launch and were greeted by two dogs that came bounding into the water. The owner was a retired fishing guide and we chatted at length about canoes, kayaks (he'd never been in one), fish, Whitney, Ottawa, Toronto, fresh water, and some guy named Frankie Kuiack that we are definitely going to learn more about (apparently he's written a book about Algonquin).

Just a fantastic trip!