Taking the Lead

March:  Taking the Lead

Occasionally the author is privileged to take these two amazing dogs for a walk.  On this occasion he had serious competition for the role of hike leader! 

Passionate?  There’s no question about that!

Morris Island

Sat. 25 March:  Morris Island

Chute des Chats in 1838

Note: click on pictures for full size view.

Chute des Chats – what fun that is to say!

Our fascinating walk near Arnprior today prompted me to read up on the Ottawa River.  Just downstream from where our hike started, was once a magnificent waterfall.  Here the river dropped thirty five feet in a series of chutes.  In English it was called Cat Falls, but it sounds much better in French.  

Then in the late 1920’s a great hydro dam was built (completed in 1932) stretching right across the river, and destroying the falls.  Upstream from the dam, a lake was created, called Lac des Chats.   The land was flooded, forming several small islands, which are today part of Morris Island Conservation Area.   

Apparently, in the nineteenth century, paddle steamers would make their way up river from Ottawa filled with sightseers wanting to see the falls.  An eight kilometre-long horse-drawn railway took them through the dense forests to the section of river upstream of the falls.

The Ottawa River runs for 1,271 kilometres in a great loop from the Laurentian Highlands all the way down to the St. Lawrence River at Montreal, forming a long section of the Quebec-Ontario border.  It’s hard to believe that this magnificent river ranks only thirteenth in Canada for length.   Over the first part of the 20^th century, the river was tamed by a series of hydro dams, the Chats Falls Dam being one such project. 

For over two hundred years the voyageurs would use the Ottawa River to carry furs down to Montreal, facing eighteen portages along the way – one of the toughest being here at Chute des Chats.  Many years earlier, in 1613, Samuel de Champlain canoed past here.  I also learned that, after the last ice age, the Great Lakes used to discharge via the Ottawa River before the land rose and the water then found a different route, down the St. Lawrence River.

Enough of ancient history!  But that’s a good example of how there’s always more to a good hike than simply walking along a trail.

A causeway runs straight as an arrow along the southern edge of the park.  Various loops and side trails wander through the forest to good viewpoints of Lac des Chats, the Quebec shoreline, and the hills beyond.  Our team of thirteen hikers was not alone.  We met a couple of cross-country skiers enjoying the spring-like conditions, as well as passing a handful of other walkers.  As far as I recall, we saw no wildlife and few birds, but they had plenty of notice of our approach!

It was a perfect sunny morning, with the fresh snow tumbling off the branches as we passed through the trees.  And since we had driven over eighty kilometres from Perth to get here, we had a very good reason to stop on our way home to enjoy a meal at the friendly Centennial Café in Pakenham village – recommended to all passers-by.

And that was one luxury not available to Champlain or the voyageurs!

The same location today:  Chats Falls Dam (1932)

On the causeway...

...on a perfect morning

Heading into the woods

Chats Falls Dam and the Quebec shore

One of several great viewpoints

Probably the day's  best viewpoint...

...with a close-up view of Quebec and Gatineau Hills

OCRR/CN rail bridge crossing into Quebec:  rails fairly recently pulled up

Nobel-prize winning words on a view-point bench

Highly recommended for friendly service

Morris Island Conservation Area:  our 6.6km route today

The Best Hike in Eastern Ontario

Sun. 19 March:  The Best Hike in Eastern Ontario

Calabogie Peaks Resort:
ideal starting point for Eastern Ontario's best hike

Note: click on pictures for full size view.

Now there’s a claim!  But it’s one I’m prepared to defend.   

What a day it was.  Even the weather was perfect.  On this last day of winter, the skies were clear, and the temperatures were soon rising above freezing.  Yet the snow conditions on Calabogie Peaks ski hills were just about perfect.  The only puzzle was the lack of skiers.  This was the final day of the school spring break, yet there were only a handful of people out on the immaculately groomed slopes.

Our journey started with a stiff climb up to the summit of the ski mountain, a vertical rise of just over 760 feet, which we accomplished in almost exactly an hour.  This height gain may not sound much to residents of the Rocky Mountains or of Switzerland.  But for Ontario, no other ski hills can match Calabogie for vertical drop.

Behind the ski hill, with its panoramic views of Calabogie Lake below, lie a series of other wooded hills and hidden valleys and lakes and rivers, stretching north and west towards the great Algonquin wilderness and far beyond.  There were several superb viewpoints along our trail, giving us a glimpse into this lonely land.

There were fifteen strong hikers today, and we made steady progress on our snowshoes, up and down the switchback trails.   Our average speed of less than two kilometres an hour sounds snail-paced, but the terrain was tricky the whole way, and there were few flat sections of trail.  There were in fact some very steep sections, the final one being memorable.  We each chose our method of descending the slippery snow-covered slopes, careful to avoid trees on the way down. 

But we made it back safely to home base.  And as we sat in a circle in the sun-bathed hotel lounge, clutching our cold drinks, we all shared a common sense of accomplishment.  

Our hike leaders had done a masterful job in shepherding us around the 9.6 kilometre obstacle course.  Now we could safely agree that this was indeed the finest hike in Eastern Ontario – and perhaps beyond.

Lone skier enjoys perfect conditions

Pre-hike briefing from our leaders

Starting out on our journey

Climbing the ski hill

Enjoying our good workout on the ascent to the summit

The easy way up

Calabogie Lake below,
and the distant line of snow-covered Gatineau Hills in Quebec

On Skywalk Loop

At the top of our first steep descent,
to Manitou Mountain trail

A juicy blood orange for lunch

Highlands stretching to Algonquin and beyond

Delightful descent of Wendigo Way

A stream is reappearing, under a canopy of hemlocks

The last weary climb to Juniper Ridge

Juniper Ridge Lookout.....

...and Calabogie Lake below

Returning to the Calabogie Peaks Hotel

Our route today

Some statistics

The Blue Connector

5 March:  The Blue Connector

Upside down blue sign indicates start of a blue side trail

Note: click on pictures for full size view.

We could have skated through long sections of today’s seventeen kilometre frozen landscape.

The reader will recall that this author started a project last year to travel all the Rideau Trail side trails (marked by a blue arrow), and then to share my experience with other hikers.

Christ Church in Burritts Rapids

Today, two of us walked all the way from the old church at Burritts Rapids to the western end of the “Blue Connector” side trail, and in so doing, claiming not only the Blue Connector, but also the hunting season diversion route north from Burritts Rapids to Paden Road.   To complete this long trek required some logistical planning, to pick the best places to start and finish.  For this is a surprisingly remote trail, needing a plan for access from the nearest road.  The plan worked perfectly.

After a fast 2.8 km walk up the road from Burritts Rapids, we followed the Rideau Trail northwards from Paden Road into the Marlborough Forest.  A short way into the forest, we noticed some unexpected blue arrows heading off to the left.  These were, I suppose, intended to be a bypass for a wet trail, but the arrows led through thick bush, and would be invisible in summer.  After about 100 metres we gladly returned to the main path.  This was one blue trail we shall not recommend to anyone.

At a wide clearing in the woods, we turned west onto the “Blue Connector” trail, which followed a straight forest road, marked grandly on the map as “Heaphy Road”.  It was a fascinating stroll beside large frozen swamps and along tree-lined avenues.  We crossed Brassils Creek on a bridge, a few kilometres upstream from the magical Stoney Steps. 

One large sign made up of four smaller ones!

Into the forest

Heaphy Road:  the "Blue Connector"

Brassils Creek

Snow art - several degrees below freezing today

The road was a sea of ice, and a recent sprinkling of snow allowed us to observe the tracks of countless critters which had been running across the trail over the past day.  Later we saw five white-tailed deer leaping across the path, but all the tiny creatures stayed well hidden.

Critter City

Crossing Dwyer Hill Road

Crossing the one main road (Dwyer Hill Road) – a lonely highway through the forest – we plunged back into the trees.  Our direction was generally southwest, with many turns along the way.  In the middle of nowhere, it seemed, we came upon an old log farmhouse with a flag flying from a mast.  Although nobody appeared to be at home, there were tire tracks in the snow – and an access “road” which would have needed a four-wheel-drive vehicle.  This remote home seemed to be very old, and one might imagine an early settler greeting us from their front door.

An icy avenue

The old farmstead

Our trail now plunged into the forest on a narrow, twisting trail (thank heavens for the blue arrows!), finally emerging onto Gilroy Road, a back-country lane marking the boundary of Ottawa region and our own Lanark County.

A narrow, twisting section - thank heavens the signs were good

An alert white tailed deer ahead

The final stretch of the Blue Connector trail led straight as an arrow along a tree-lined lane, which in summer would be a shady avenue.  Today it was a skating rink, and we were grateful once again to the inventor of the MICROspikes (and other similar devices), as we strolled effortlessly down the ice.

Back onto the main Rideau Trail
for the final section of our 17.1 km journey

One final stretch of an enchanted forest pathway and we had arrived at our car, positioned at the north end of Old Quarry Road.  Here the Rideau Trail turns south to Merrickville.

In an early Rideau Trail Association newsletter from 1974 (#14), there is a fascinating article written by Margaret Moxley called “Through the Long Bush”.  It tells the story of the early settlers to this area, and the first road that was built to allow their travel further inland to Perth and beyond.  This was known as “The Long Bush”, and we were following this old route for a while today.  The silence of the frozen countryside, the old farm fences beside our trail, and that log home in the wilderness made us appreciate what those settlers faced – and how much they achieved – just to survive. 

Plenty of warning signs along the route:
 this one was the most dramatic.

By contrast, our journey ended with a trip to the highly recommended pub beside the Rideau Canal at Lock 17!

Our route