When I was young, I thought modern camping conveniences were contrary to the spirit of the wilderness. On our annual trips to Algonquin Park, my friends and I lugged heavy packs on endless portages, charred our pots over an open fire and slept padless with gnarled roots and sharp bits of Canadian Shield poking us in the vertebrae.
Then I got older and creakier, and discovered camp stoves, Therm-a-Rests and the endlessly fascinating aisles of Mountain Equipment Co-op. A little convenience, I decided, was not so bad.
More than two decades after those first trips, the birth of my daughter last year made me weigh my options yet again. Was it time to start checking into luxury lodges, or could I still handle the backcountry? Or was there some sort of intermediate option that would combine the best of both worlds?
The answer, it transpired, was yes, yes and yes. I ended up taking three different trips to Algonquin Park between July and October, spanning the full range of rigour and comfort. Here’s how I fared.
Trip #1: Rain Lake Ranger Cabin
At one point, 135 rustic cabins were scattered throughout the Algonquin interior, for the use of rangers on patrol. Today, just 15 are left, and all but one of them is available for rent. Most are basic: a roof, four walls, a few bunk beds and perhaps a wood stove. Some require several hours of canoeing or portaging to reach, but five of them are car-accessible.
This latter option seemed like the perfect compromise to me and my wife – an affordable opportunity to get away from the cheek-by-jowl camping along the Highway 60 corridor that still allowed us to cart along enough gear to make life tolerable for a five-month-old baby.
Along with my parents-in-law, we booked four nights in July at Rain Lake, an access point on the park’s west side, where canoeists and hikers start and finish trips deeper into the backcountry. We stayed in a particularly luxurious cabin with two small bedrooms, a screened veranda, private dock and gas-powered lights, fridge and stove – all for $92 a night. The catch? Bookings are allowed up to five months in advance, so we made sure to book exactly five months from our intended arrival date to secure a spot.
The cabin, situated in a pleasant grove of trees, was spotless when we arrived. During our stay, a few canoeists passed through the access point each morning and afternoon, but we scarcely noticed them and were otherwise completely on our own.
We’d rented canoes in the nearby town of Kearney on our way into the park, allowing us to explore Rain Lake, a long, thin body of water that connects by portage to four other lakes. We picnicked on a small island, swam and caught a couple of smallmouth bass to supplement dinners.
Rain Lake marks one end of the Western Uplands backpacking trail, which runs along an abandoned railway bed. As a change from canoeing, we spent one day hiking the route, our progress slowed considerably by the sea of ripe blueberries bordering the path.
In other words, it was everything we’d hoped for – except for the mice. We were prepared for the pitter-patter of little feet at night, but the brazen rodents dashing from behind one piece of furniture to the next even during the day were a little off-putting. We caught a few with the traps provided, but it was clearly a Sisyphean battle, so we settled for keeping our food in tightly sealed plastic containers.
Trip #2: The Petawawa River
Canoe trips through the remote interior are what first drew me to Algonquin, and the Petawawa is the park’s most famous whitewater river. I thought such trips might be in my past as a new father, but with some clutch babysitting help from my parents and wife, I was able to join some friends for a five-day trip to McManus Lake from Lake Travers in late August.
It did not take long for the joys and challenges of backcountry travel to come rushing back. The first thing I did was haul the clunky whitewater canoe over a 660-metre portage. After that, I was already more tired than I’d been all week at Rain Lake. Then we started paddling.
That night, we camped under the trees along a sandy beach, with a panoramic view of the sun setting across the lake. The meal we cooked over the flickering flame of our little camp stove had that ineffably satisfying taste – partly thanks to the recipe my friend Tim cribbed from his wife, sure, but also thanks to the labour we’d done that day. Meals don’t taste like that anywhere else.
The thrills continued for the rest of the trip, including one spill halfway along the Petawawa’s famous Rollway rapids that resulted in the kind of full-immersion flume ride that you’d never undertake voluntarily but emerge from grinning ear to ear. By day we shared moments of silent awe as we floated between towering canyon walls, and during long nights we shared tall tales around the campfire.
And there were mice. I’d never once encountered a mouse in the backcountry in more than 20 years of Algonquin trips, but they appeared every night after dinner, licking our plates and pooping in our cups.
Trip #3: Bartlett Lodge
In October, friends from Australia came for a visit. What better way for them to imbibe the essence of Canada, we figured, than to spend a few days living in a Group of Seven painting?
Not wanting to inflict any further discomfort on a couple who had spent 24 hours on a plane, we booked a waterfront cabin at Bartlett Lodge, a historic luxury resort on Cache Lake, just off Highway 60. Billed as “the finest guest cabin in Algonquin Park,” the three-bedroom cottage we chose was one of the park’s original buildings, erected in 1898 and restored in 2001.
The resort is accessible only by water – pretty much the definition of “off the beaten track.” On arrival, you call the front desk and a motorized canoe crosses the lake to pick you up.
Our first impression was, in truth, disappointing. The cottages and main buildings are clustered tightly together, giving a vibe that’s less coureur de bois and more upscale summer camp. Still, our cabin was comfortable, with canoes and other boats waiting right outside our door, plus a walking trail in the woods behind.
One of the advantages of Cache Lake is that it’s at the heart of the most densely developed area of the park, so plenty of hiking and canoeing options are close at hand. We spent a pleasant day exploring the Track and Tower Trail, a 7.7-kilometre loop that leads to the site of an old fire tower. Lunch was a picnic high atop a bluff overlooking the lake, with ridge after forested ridge of multihued fall colours extending into the distance below us.
But if there’s one thing that would draw us back to Bartlett, it’s the food. On the “modified American plan,” you get a hearty breakfast and a truly memorable five-course dinner each day. We assured our Aussie visitors that “breakfast poutine” is as Canadian as the maple syrup with which they drenched their pancakes.
Over all, the trip felt more like a cottage rental (albeit a luxuriously catered one) than a wilderness trip. That’s fine, as long as you know what to expect. And yes, our cabin had mice. Apparently it was a record year.
IF YOU GO
Algonquin Park’s ranger cabins are available from the last Friday in April until Thanksgiving. Bookings are available starting five months before your arrival date. Cabins fill up fast, and start at $62.15 a night, plus backcountry camping permits per person. algonquinpark.on.ca
Numerous outfitters offer guided trips along the Petawawa River for paddlers of all levels, including beginners. A four-day trip with Blackfeather costs $1,095. blackfeather.com
Bartlett Lodge offers luxury tents, studio suites and cabins. We paid $205 per person per night for a mid-week stay, including breakfast and a highly memorable dinner. Cabin rates start at $187 a person per night, based on double occupancy, in low season. bartlettlodge.com
BOOKING DATES, COAST TO COAST
If you want to score that perfect campsite this summer, you have to act fast. Here is when reservation season starts for summer 2015 at provincial and national parks across the country. Note: In some provinces, it’s a gradual rollout. Listed here is the first possible date.
Nova Scotia: April 2; novascotiaparks.ca.
PEI: April 1; peiparks.com
Newfoundland: April 22; nlcamping.ca
New Brunswick: Booking now; parcsnbparks.ca
Quebec: Booking now; sepaq.com
Ontario: Booking now for up to five months in advance; ontarioparks.com
Manitoba: April 6 for tent sites; manitobaparks.com
Saskatchewan: First week of March; saskparks.net
Alberta: Feb. 17; albertaparks.ca
B.C.: March 15, for up to three months in advance; bcparks.ca
National Parks across the country: Various dates in April for most parks; reservation.pc.gc.ca