A Journey to Georgina Island
Last month, I embarked on my final hike of the 2008 spring/summer season. Although I hiked just 195 kilometers this year, less than half of what I accomplished in 2007, I still found the exercise a challenging and amusing way to spend time. On my final walk, Nathan and I traveled to Georgina Island, which was perhaps the most remote and barren location we’ve trekked through.
I drive to Virginia, a community located along the southern shore of Lake Simcoe. (Unfortunately I sleep in late, meaning that Highway 404 is fairly crowded and slow). The small village, located a few kilometers east of Sibbald Point Provincial Park, features a few hundred residential homes and a couple of small plazas. After parking, Nathan and I walk to the modest dock located at Black River Rd & Delta St. Looking out onto Lake Simcoe, we see Georgina Island in the distance. It looks small, level and full of lush vegetation – a great place for a hike. After a short wait, we take the ferry across the lake and arrive on the southern edge of the island.
Georgina Island is home to a small band of Chippewas, a group of First Nations People. Bear Road (“Mkwa Miikan”) encircles the island and runs along or near the Simcoe shoreline. The south side of the island features the majority of the Chippewas’ community resources, including a school, fire department and community centre. Still, the nearest grocery store (in Sutton) is a ferry ride plus a 6 km drive away. There are also a large number of non-Native cottages along the southern half of the island. Nathan and I planned on hiking along Bear Road (15 km), which would allow us to see the entire island.
After walking north along Bear Road, Nathan and I turn down a dirt path and find the Nanabush Trails. The Chippewas manage a series of hiking paths which extend for several kilometers into the island’s vast, ancient forest. The muddy terrain is uneven and hilly; the forest features large deciduous trees, marshy ravines, and many small animals. The trail features several small wooden bridges and a number of signs describing Chippewa beliefs and customs; although it’s reassuring to know that the Natives have walked through this land before, the forest is still remote and appears to be largely unexplored. The combination of thick vegetation, flowing streams and aggressive insects prevent us from venturing beyond the marked path. Nathan and I hike through the entire four-segment trail in under an hour.
As we march farther north along Bead Road, the population density decreases gradually. The northeast corner of the island is empty; no cottages were built on this remote edge of the island. Out here, the road is cracked and narrow, and the tall, thick trees encroach upon the pavement. After a few hundred meters, Bear Road ends. We face a decision: either we turn around and head back towards the dock, or continue along a dirt path heading into the forest. Wanting to explore as much of the remote island as possible, we chose the latter route.
Nathan and I spent the next hour hiking through Georgina Island’s vast, untamed forest. We march along a narrow dirt path that leads us away from the shoreline, making it difficult for us to track our progress. The dirt trail features numerous large mud puddles, each filled with dozens of small frogs who swim away as we approach. Dense vegetation, ranging from large deciduous trees to exotic plants, intrudes along the edge of the path. Occasionally the trees disappear and flat, arid plains emerge; although the tall, thick grass provides a change in scenery, it leaves us exposed to the hot sun. The island’s interior terrain is fairly homogeneous; the only distinct sections are a small a pond and a deep stone quarry. The core of Georgina Island is very remote: aside from an occasional beer can lying along the ground, there are no signs of civilization.
Eventually, the narrow dirt trail emerges from the forest and becomes a paved street (the northwestern end of Bear Road). The area is quite desolate; the lush forest surrounds both sides of the road and there are still many small animals crawling near the pavement. Nathan and I continue south, back towards civilization. Within a few minutes we pass by the island’s northernmost cottages; within an hour we’re back at the dock. Exhausted from the long hike through rugged terrain, we take the ferry back to Virginia as the sky turns black. Labels: Hiking
A Journey to Barrie
Several weeks ago I went on a long hike, primarily along the western arm of Lake Simcoe. I traveled through the quiet, rural Innisfil region before arriving in Barrie. The walk was tiring; at 37 kilometers, it was my longest trek of the 2008 hiking season. It also marked the third time I traveled beyond the confines of the Greater Toronto Area. This trip was enjoyable and will remain memorable due to a bizarre, potentially dangerous situation that occurred near the beginning.
I take the Go bus to Churchill, a small community located 11 km from of Barrie’s southern periphery. The village features empty stores and a few dozen modest homes, primarily located along Yonge Street (a rural highway). A man in his mid-twenties also exits the bus; we start talking. He says that he’s supposed to meet some strangers at Yonge & 4th Line (“downtown” Churchill), en route to skydiving lessons, but he’s stranded because they aren’t answering their phones. I’m not sure if he’s telling the truth – the concept of meeting strangers in the middle of nowhere, to go tempt death, is far beyond my risk tolerance level, though I know some people are daredevils.
The stranger asks a few Churchill residents if they know the location of the skydiving facility; none of them do. However, he gets a call from his girlfriend, who tells him the skydiving centre is located a few kilometers down the road, towards the west. The stranger tries to persuade me to walk with him; I refuse. He immediately flags down a van driving west on 4th Line and jumps in; he urges me to come “in case the driver tries to kill me, man”. I thank him for the offer but walk away, towards the east, away from Churchill. Fortunately, he doesn’t follow.
Perhaps the stranger was trying to rob or abduct me; he could have fabricated a story about skydiving and arranged to have a friend’s van pull over when he started “hitchhiking”. Then again, maybe he was just a wildly risk-seeking individual. I’m happy I walked away; I can live with the mystery.
The next hour is pleasant but uneventful – I hike east along 4th Line, down an empty country road bisecting farmland. Eventually, a road sign indicates that I’ve entered LeFroy; I suppose it refers to the dozen homes located along the southwest corner of 4th Line & 20th Sideroad. I wonder why this block is deemed to be a community, when it could be clustered with Bell Ewart, a much larger and more interesting village located a few hundred meters down the road.
After a few minutes I arrive in Bell Ewart, one of several small communities within the town of Innisfil. It’s a nice, small village centralized along the southwestern shore of Lake Simcoe. I like Bell Ewart; it features several picturesque, well-maintained public beaches and it combines small town charm with an eclectic but bold personality (at least by small town standards). The exurb features the standard amenities of a rural southern Ontario town, including a nondescript community centre and general store. However, there are a number of interesting buildings, including the modestly-named “Almost Lakefront Café”, located a few hundred meters west of the beach, a church with a massive, apparently permanent Bell Ewart graffiti design spraypainted on the front, and what appears to be a punk rock / skateboard shop. It's not exactly Dundas Square, but Bell Ewart has a lot of creativity and attitude for a rural community.
I walk north through Alcona, the largest commercial centre in Innisfil, and west to Stroud, a small community a few kilometers south of Barrie. Alcona appears to be a tourist village designed to emphasize its lakeshore while Stroud appears to be a commuter town. These communities feature a few large commercial plazas including TD Bank, Tim Hortons, and other major franchises. Although they are pleasant, they lack the uniqueness and character of Bell Ewart. I spend a few minutes resting at Innisfil Beach Park but I’m looking forward to hiking through a more interesting place.
I walk north on Yonge Street, a rural highway, towards Barrie. There’s a lot to like about the city. Barrie offers all the amenities of a typical, comfortable suburb (i.e. Richmond Hill, Newmarket) and, due to its moderate size (130,000 residents) and tremendous population growth (24% in the past five years), it appears to have a promising future. The city is roughly equidistant between Toronto, a world-class metropolis, and Gravenhurst, the southern edge of Ontario’s Muskoka Lakes region. Barrie offers impressive flexibility—it is within an hour’s drive of world-class educational, economic and cultural centres to the south, and comfortable, relaxing rural getaways to the north. Barrie's well-managed, well-maintained downtown core, centralized along Kempenfelt Bay (the western arm of Lake Simcoe), is a real highlight.
Within an hour, I arrive in downtown Barrie. Although the southern half of the city is fairly dull (featuring an endless lineup of plazas), I’m immediately impressed by the size and condition of the city’s waterfront; it puts Toronto’s Lake Ontario waterfront to shame for three reasosn. First, the shoreline is continuous throughout the city’s entire downtown core and beyond, providing residents with a quick and scenic commute from one side of the city to the other (though of course land is more valuable in Toronto reducing incentives to have an open, public waterfront). Second, the coastline is in excellent condition. There is virtually no littering; the walking and bicycle paths are well-maintained; and plants along the coast are beautifully landscaped. Third, the waterfront offers many attractions, including the impressive Spirit Catcher monument, a large fountain, a festival in Centennial Park, and a public marina. The area offers more than just a nice view of Lake Simcoe – it features landmarks, activities, and acts as the economic backbone of Barrie. Indeed, I’m able to walk city’s centre (the “the five corners”, where Dunlop, Bayfield and Clapperton Streets intersect), in less than five minutes.
Afterward, I walk through part of the city’s historic downtown section but I don’t get very far; by this point I’m exhausted and miss the chance to see a few landmarks (i.e. city hall, MacLaren art centre). I plan on heading home around 19:00; unfortunately I miss the Go bus by ten minutes and must wait ninety minutes for the next ride. To pass the time, I walk back to the waterfront, take a seat, and rest. I reflect on the journey – I didn’t get robbed, and the hike was enjoyable. That’s a good day.Labels: Hiking
I drive to Virginia, a community located along the southern shore of Lake Simcoe. (Unfortunately I sleep in late, meaning that Highway 404 is fairly crowded and slow). The small village, located a few kilometers east of Sibbald Point Provincial Park, features a few hundred residential homes and a couple of small plazas. After parking, Nathan and I walk to the modest dock located at Black River Rd & Delta St. Looking out onto Lake Simcoe, we see Georgina Island in the distance. It looks small, level and full of lush vegetation – a great place for a hike. After a short wait, we take the ferry across the lake and arrive on the southern edge of the island. 
Georgina Island is home to a small band of Chippewas, a group of First Nations People. Bear Road (“Mkwa Miikan”) encircles the island and runs along or near the Simcoe shoreline. The south side of the island features the majority of the Chippewas’ community resources, including a school, fire department and community centre. Still, the nearest grocery store (in Sutton) is a ferry ride plus a 6 km drive away. There are also a large number of non-Native cottages along the southern half of the island. Nathan and I planned on hiking along Bear Road (15 km), which would allow us to see the entire island.
After walking north along Bear Road, Nathan and I turn down a dirt path and find the Nanabush Trails. The Chippewas manage a series of hiking paths which extend for several kilometers into the island’s vast, ancient forest. The muddy terrain is uneven and hilly; the forest features large deciduous trees, marshy ravines, and many small animals. The trail features several small wooden bridges and a number of signs describing Chippewa beliefs and customs; although it’s reassuring to know that the Natives have walked through this land before, the forest is still remote and appears to be largely unexplored. The combination of thick vegetation, flowing streams and aggressive insects prevent us from venturing beyond the marked path. Nathan and I hike through the entire four-segment trail in under an hour.
As we march farther north along Bead Road, the population density decreases gradually. The northeast corner of the island is empty; no cottages were built on this remote edge of the island. Out here, the road is cracked and narrow, and the tall, thick trees encroach upon the pavement. After a few hundred meters, Bear Road ends. We face a decision: either we turn around and head back towards the dock, or continue along a dirt path heading into the forest. Wanting to explore as much of the remote island as possible, we chose the latter route. 
Nathan and I spent the next hour hiking through Georgina Island’s vast, untamed forest. We march along a narrow dirt path that leads us away from the shoreline, making it difficult for us to track our progress. The dirt trail features numerous large mud puddles, each filled with dozens of small frogs who swim away as we approach. Dense vegetation, ranging from large deciduous trees to exotic plants, intrudes along the edge of the path. Occasionally the trees disappear and flat, arid plains emerge; although the tall, thick grass provides a change in scenery, it leaves us exposed to the hot sun. The island’s interior terrain is fairly homogeneous; the only distinct sections are a small a pond and a deep stone quarry. The core of Georgina Island is very remote: aside from an occasional beer can lying along the ground, there are no signs of civilization. 
Eventually, the narrow dirt trail emerges from the forest and becomes a paved street (the northwestern end of Bear Road). The area is quite desolate; the lush forest surrounds both sides of the road and there are still many small animals crawling near the pavement. Nathan and I continue south, back towards civilization. Within a few minutes we pass by the island’s northernmost cottages; within an hour we’re back at the dock. Exhausted from the long hike through rugged terrain, we take the ferry back to Virginia as the sky turns black. 
