The
sticky summer city heat, sleeping in till noon, Canada’s Wonderland,
the same old people, mall shopping; the summer was becoming repetitive.
A few of my friends were planning a canoe trip in northern Ontario,
and after extensive persuasion, I decided to let my inner wilderness
child shine through, put down my shopping bags, and join them. Little
did I know what I was getting myself into.
The
first day out on the lake, we woke up at a frighteningly early hour.
The girls and I planned the meals ahead of time and so I woke up
expecting chocolate chip pancakes with canned peaches—cooked
by someone else of course. Unfortunately, after we spent a good
hour collecting fire wood and trying to light a fire with wood wet
from the early morning dew, the pancakes ended up being undercooked
and soggy. After holding back complaints, I quickly realized the
worst was yet to come. We put on our soaking wet, muddy, running
shoes, put the canoes in the water, paddled for ten kilometers,
paddle for ten more…It was a vicious routine that my princess
self was not used to and everyone had to paddle or we wouldn’t
get where we needed to be by sunset—at the next camp site.
After
hours of canoeing, the sight of the mountain ranges and sparkling
turquoise waters became familiar and tiresome. My arms began to
weaken and the feeling of only a few hours of sleep in a cramped
tent began to take its toll. I missed my feather bed, my cashmere
sweaters, my morning coffee, and started to contemplate ways to
get myself air-lifted back to civilization. We finally reached a
portage and I was relieved, thinking that I would be able to relax
in the sun, work on my summer tan, and enjoy some of the trail mix.
I quickly realized that a portage didn’t mean a rest. We had
no time to spare since it was already getting late and… starting
to rain. To my horror, I figured out that we had to carry heavy
canoes over our heads through two feet of mud for two kilometers.
The rain drenched us, our food and our equipment, and the mosquitoes
decided to come out for a visit. As we walked through the mud, I
was prayed that some strange swamp creature wouldn’t crawl
out from beneath my toes. The following portages were also tedious,
and usually involved rocky, muddy grounds, and steep slopes. Fights
broke out because some of us thought others weren’t carrying
their share. These hikes were the worst part of the day and would
frequently result in tears. But once the arguments were resolved,
and the day’s supply of tedious portages and long periods
of time canoeing were over, we arrived at our much-awaited campsite.
We unpacked, prepared dinner, and went for a midnight swim. We laid
in our sleeping bags beneath the mass of sparkling stars, telling
stories and singing songs, and despite all the hardships of the
day, I realized how much I loved what I was doing, who I was with,
and everything around me.
On
two of the seven days, we woke up facing the arduous task of climbing
one of Killarney Park’s tallest mountains. Although I was
excited, I was terrified. Having never climbed a mountain before,
only flights of stairs, it was a scary idea to swallow. We began
the climb early in the morning, to avoid the heat of the summer
sun, and to avoid climbing during the night. The mountain was rocky,
exhausting and dangerous, and I would have to break often to drink
some water and catch my breath. We stopped for lunch half way up,
and I already felt discouraged. Once I gobbled down my peanut butter
and pita sandwich, I felt every muscle in my body go limp. I realized
that maybe the wilderness was not the place for me, and I truly
did belong in the city with my favourite Japanese restaurants, my
Miss Sixty jeans, air conditioning, and clean showers. But after
some encouraging words from a good friend, I decided to give it
another go and prove that I am more than just a girl with pink manicured
fingernails. We climbed for what seemed like a century, and finally
reached our goal—the very peak of the mountain. Once I caught
my breath and took a good look at the beauty around me, I realized
what I had accomplished, and I felt like I was on top of the world.
Once my week in the wilderness was over, I felt
like I had accomplished so much. Although the camping trip was grueling
and extremely challenging, it is something I am so thankful for
being part of. The physical journey was the most difficult thing
I have ever done, and the mental journey has changed me into a better
person. I learned new skills; created a special bond with six other
girls, developed physical and mental strength, and had the best
time of my life. I still love my luxuries such as hot showers, edible
food, and flushing toilets but am now so much more appreciative
of them. To this day, I still never take my hot showers for granted.
Bright summer days of canoeing along the banks of Killarney’s
stunning lakes and hiking in the mountains, is what made my summer
unbelievable, changed me into the person I am today, and something
I will remember for a lifetime.
