Photography and Writing by Cheryl Smyth

The day after we climbed the Lookout Trail (see Look Out, We’re Climbing a Mountain), we set out early in the morning for the 4 km (2.5 mi) Tablelands Trail. Its “gentle terrain” description suited my climb-weary legs, since it would be an easy walk at the base of mountains. This is where we’d exchange the lush green vegetation of Partridgeberry Hill for orangey-brown landscape with scrubby bushes and stunted trees.

Where is Our Mars?

Parking and the trailhead sit off route 431 between the Discovery Centre and Trout River. We headed out early to avoid the tourist rush. A thinly clouded sky provided a comfortable walk. Only our footfalls and a whisper of a breeze interrupted the vast silence.

The forlorn landscape drew us, and our leashed dogs, into its otherworldly existence. I could easily imagine we travelled all the way to Mars; yet, we merely stood 4 km (2.5 mi) away from the climb of the day before. Reminding us of our earthly location, in addition to the meager offering of vegetation, was civilization in the form of the nearby highway and its accompanying hydro lines.

Peridotite is the name of the substance covering this region. It is rich in iron and magnesium, having been thrust up eons ago from the mantle of the earth. The colour results from surface oxidation.

Fight for Life

Chiseled jagged rock patterns stood out amongst the scree and detritus layering the slopes skirting the trail. The bushes and trees scattered around us looked like they have been fighting a constant battle to survive their harsh reality, with some bare branches as evidence of the battle lost. Trailing shrubs, such as the ground juniper, lie like tentacles reaching for sustenance. We came across assorted flowers, including the pitcher plant, all looking pretty against the starkness.

I was sent this information from Parks Canada: “These junipers are actually some of the oldest plants in the Tablelands, with some living to be up to 300 years old! As ice and grit have damaged its bark and disrupted the flow of water and nutrients, the shrub is indeed struggling to survive and will grow much slower.”

There’s Water in These Barren Lands

We passed over several small streams carving their way through the tough rock. At one point a narrow waterfall rushed down the hillside. Unfortunately, the hydro lines altered their route from hugging the highway to stretch across our view of the waterfall, cutting it in half-a frustrating occurrence for photographers.

Occasionally, I allowed Tessi a bit of untethered freedom, though I kept the durations brief. The bushes were small enough for her to stay in sight and I could easily see there were no loitering large creatures. She blended in quite well with the rocks because of her fur of the same colour. (From later research, I would learn that visitors are to stay on the path to protect

plant growth. Of course, the fact we were still in the park meant dogs are to be kept leashed anyway.)

A Boardwalk to Amazing

Eventually a boardwalk overtook the dirt trail. At the end, a lookout platform in Winterhouse Brook Canyon awarded us a 180 degree majestic view of mountains. I spent a bit of time taking pictures of a cascade beside the boardwalk before stopping to appreciate the scenery so impressive, leaving me feeling insignificant in its presence. Helen and Missy had already started heading back leaving Tessi and me alone in this magnificence.

We were fortunate to experience this version of Mars by ourselves, not running into anyone until our return walk. By the time we reached the parking lot, vehicles and the onslaught of people filled its capacity, which took away from the unworldly feel of the Tablelands and reminded us of our existence on Earth.

For more info:

• Tablelands
• Gross Morne National Park

(c) Cheryl Smyth, 2011

“Like” my new TC Travels page on Facebook and see more pictures of our visit to the Tablelands

Several trails snake through the landscape within a short driving distance from where we camped at Trout River in Gros Morne National Park. I was interested in one that would award outstanding scenery, yet would not be too severe on our untrained muscles. A park ranger informed me that on the Lookout Trail, there is a spectacular view of the Tableland Mountains from a section of boardwalk along the way. On the map, the route appeared to travel one way then loop to return to itself. I overlooked most of the details including the 350 m (over 1100 ft.) elevation. I only noticed that its 2-3 hour hike seemed more my style than the much longer Green Garden hike.

As is typical in parks, the dogs were to be leashed. I was agreeable to following the rule, considering we would be heading through forested sections, where unseen wildlife, including bears, exists. (If Tessi chased a bear, eventually she’d run back to me, likely with the bear following.)

A Steep Trail and a Hot Sun

The Lookout Trail starts on the backside of the Discovery Centre, heads into the forest right away and climbs up Partridgeberry Hill, which seemed like a mountain to me. I anxiously looked forward to the appearance of the boardwalk and its view. The steep trail just kept ascending. Occasionally, we rested under the leafy canopy. When we stopped in an unsheltered area, I turned around only to be startled by the lovely vision of Bonne Bay below us.

Another open area revealed a short boardwalk and the view of the orange-brown terrain of the Tableland Mountains I had been looking forward to. When a man and woman appeared behind us, we encouraged them to pass. Noticing how muscular the guy was, I realized they’d easily leave us behind.

By this time it occurred to me that we must be on our way to the summit, especially when the route continued after the boardwalk. For some reason, I thought maybe the trail looped there.

In the open, the sun radiated its heat, making me uncomfortably hot. It would be the only time on this island I would feel the warmth to that extent. A sign at the trailhead suggests taking a jacket, as the temperature is usually chillier at the top. An extra layer of clothing proved unnecessary that day.

Though I quit smoking over 20 years ago, upward climbing still stresses my lungs. Watching little Missy scale the incline herself, without Helen carrying her at all, inspired me to trudge on.

When I eventually spotted an expanse of blue sky on the elevated horizon, I was relieved. Hurray, we were almost there!

At one point, I stepped down off the trail to wet my head from a tea-coloured creek we crossed over, in an effort to cool myself off. While there, Helen handed Missy to me to see if she needed refreshment. We laughed as she splayed her legs out and laid her belly in the water.

The Meadow

When we finally reached the skyline, I was disappointed to see another section to traverse. In my sourness, I underappreciated the new scenery’s beauty-until a glimpse at my first pitcher plant, which is Newfoundland’s official flower. A few of the burgundy blooms were growing amid lush foliage on a plateau of wet meadow. The widened view of the bay fringed by mountains and blue sky served as a backdrop.

A trio of women passed us. I felt somewhat ashamed when I found out they were “taking a break” from their provincial bicycling trip to climb this “hill.” They were to return to their bikes and the road afterwards.

We followed the boardwalk, which crossed over the meadow, before reaching a short, steep scramble to a lookout platform marking the hill’s crest.

Panorama

A gorgeous 360 degree panorama opened up from the vistas revealed during our ascent. We reveled in the excellent views of Bonne Bay against the backdrop of the Long Range Mountains and Gros Morne Mountain in one direction, and the Tablelands in the other.

Helen spotted a moose and calf far below us on the grassy slope. After attempting to take pictures of the pair, which were too far away for a decent photo, I happily relaxed on the platform’s bleacher-like seats and breathed the fresh, cool, and comfortable air.

We chatted with others as they arrived and then moved on. The exception was one young couple exuding an aura of distain. They looked well organized in their properly fitted backpacks and expensive looking outdoor apparel. Silence answered our greetings. We looked like slobs compared to them; yet, we were amiable-a more important trait in my opinion.

A Quick Descent

From the platform, we spotted another trail, which I assumed must be the mysterious loop. We didn’t bother exploring it, since my empty water bottle suggested it was time to head down.

Though descending is typically easier, I just wanted to be finished. Tessi took my eagerness as a cue to switch to high gear. She practically dragged me along. I wanted to blame her for a couple of minor falls I suffered; however, they came from muddy patches I encountered too quickly.

Once back in driving mode, my leg shook whenever I moved it between gas pedal and brake. The view had been amazing though and well worth the effort. Yes, I would make the climb again without hesitation.

For more info:

• Gros Morne National Park hiking
• The pitcher plant 

(c) Cheryl Smyth, 2011

“Like” my new TC Travels page on Facebook and see more pictures of our Lookout Trail climb.

Webster Falls and Tews Falls

The meltwater joins the creek as it gushes off the edge of the escarpment and pounds on the boulders below. Mist explodes in the cool air as the rushing water then threads its way around the snow covered boulders and resumes its journey downstream.

This is what Helen, Tessi, and I discovered at the 21 m (69 ft.) Webster’s Falls when we decided to head out on a spring-like mid-January day. We had had plenty of snow, which was quickly melting and making any waterway potentially hazardous. We were careful to respect nature’s force by staying away from the danger. I kept Tessi on a leash just in case her nose would lead her to slippery spots too close to the water.

We knew we’d have to be careful at the conservation area for that reason, but we didn’t expect to be dealing with trails paved with ice. The only way to reach the falls was to slip and slide our way along. Most of the time, Tessi pulling at the other end of the leash threatened to pull me over, yet at times the tightness of the leash between us helped stabilize me.

We used the fence, where we could view the waterfall from atop the escarpment, to help keep us upright. The challenge began when the trail started to slope downwards and we ran out of fencing.

When we finally arrived at the 123 steps leading to the base of the falls, we found ice mainly lumped in the centre of most of the steps, having melted off the edges. By carefully navigating along the clear spots and grasping the rails, we slowly descended. A section of grated steps gave us some relief.

It was cooler in the gorge. I’m glad I wore a rain resistant jacket, as getting soaked was inevitable from the mist coming off the powerful falls. I set up my tripod on one of the few sections of stable ground peeking through the frozen glaze and struggled to keep my camera dry while I took pictures.

Once we returned to the top, we wandered around the summer picnic grounds; they were much clearer than the trails. After successfully negotiating all the ice, I was walking down a small muddy mound and slid on my butt. At least it hurt less than the hard surface of the walkways would have.

Tews Falls is normally a short hike, maybe about 20 minutes at a steady pace, from Webster’s Falls. The slick trail continued though, extending the hike. We also stopped a lot to admire the gorge, Dundas Peak in the distance and a wisp of the city of Dundas beyond the gorge.

We could safely view Tews Falls, as it plunges 41 m (135 ft.) into the chasm below, from behind guardrails at a couple of lookouts. The usual narrow ribbon of water was showing an impressive mighty strength. Our admiration of the falls was kept to the lookout platforms from above as there are no stairs leading to the bottom.

We could have continued to Dundas Peak (an open ledge), but because of the conditions we deemed it too dangerous. Besides, by the time we made it back to the car at Webster’s Falls, we had had enough of challenging trails.

I was grateful I had worn proper hiking boots. A walking stick may also have been helpful. With care taken, we enjoyed the mild winter day that turned beautiful scenery into extraordinary scenery.

Rock Glen Conservation Area

Since the trip to Webster’s Falls didn’t deter us from exploring the outdoors in winter, we headed to Rock Glen Conservation Area on an overcast fall afternoon to enjoy the 11 m (36 ft.) waterfall located there. We already had a generous amount of snow on this late November day. Instead of having paved ice to contend with, we had to trudge through thigh deep snow. I had to resort to parking on the road; the driveway, parking lot, and trails hadn’t been cleared. Fortunately, we could follow the footsteps visitors had forged before us. The wooden stairs leading to the base of the waterfall were a little better. We just had to be careful.

The conservation area is off the convoluted Rock Glen Road near Arkona, which is about a 45 minute drive from London, depending on the part of the city you are driving from. I was surprised to find Rock Glen Road reasonably clear as the back roads leading to it were sketchy.

Once we reached the bottom of the falls, we found there were only a few slippery spots, which were easy to avoid. Since it had been cold for awhile, the water falling was generous, but not very strong. Icicles adorned the edges and sections throughout the falling water. They were missing the sparkle that only the sun can give them; however, I still achieved interesting pictures.

There was no one around, so I let Tessi wander freely, only stopping her when I wanted to make use of her modeling skills for my camera. A sign indicates dogs are to be leashed. The cliff and sometimes strong currents can be dangerous to our unaware doggy friends. Tessi had no interest in the water; she was too busy sticking her nose in the snow where she could investigate hidden smells.

I knew from warm weather visits that trails, mostly in the form of wooden stairs, continue downstream along both sides of the Ausable River (the fall’s source). We were mostly interested in the waterfall area anyway, so we didn’t bother tromping through the snow that was likely piled along the way. We were just happy to enjoy the outdoors for a couple of hours.

As I sit here working on the final paragraph of this story, I listen to the rain patter on the windows during what is another mild winter day. I’m taken back to the world of ice, snow and raging water. I feel the surge of Webster’s Falls as it forces it’s way over the cliff and continues it’s unending journey downstream.

For more information:

• Webster’s Falls, Tews Falls and Dundas Peak-www.conservationhamilton.ca; click on Spencer Gorge/Webster’s Falls on the left hand side. You can also call 905-628-3060 or e-mail christie@conservationhamilton.ca for additional information
• www.gowaterfalling.com
• Rock Glen Conservation Area http://www.abca.on.ca/conservationlands.php?page=rockglen

(c) Cheryl Smyth, 2010

Comments:

Love your stories of Webster Falls and Glen Falls and the lovely pictures. It makes one want to get in the car to view the falls and water.

We did one winter hike in Algonquin – falls and paths laden with ice. It certainly can be dangerous but the beauty of the ice, water and snow was worth every step on the ice.

-Patty

Once the leaves escape the trees, leaving them bare, I usually find many hikes as dull as the scenery; yet, I was impressed with the Forks of the Credit Provincial Park in mid-November. Evergreens and bare trees protruding from leaf covered hills, a swift moving rock filled river, and a waterfall plunging into a gorge decorated the landscape. The company of other people and their dogs topped off an enjoyable day.

Tessi and I shared the outing with the group Dog Paddling Adventures (DPA), a company Eren and Kathryn Howell created in 2000, when they started with a few canoeing trips that included their dog, Jessie (husky mix), and allowed people to bring their own four-legged friends. Eren says on their website, “I have always appreciated watching the natural world, and the opportunity to share it with our pets brings a whole new perspective to the outdoors.” Eventually interest led the couple to offer hikes where dogs would be able to run free. Jessie not only participates in the outings, she holds the position of Chief Dog Operator.

The Toronto based couple plans and organizes the outings, which take place in the beautiful nature parks north of the city. All people and canines are welcome whether experienced or not (besides the most difficult canoe trips). Even the necessary equipment is provided. Length of excursions varies from one day, up to five days. Whereas canoeing keeps DPA busy throughout the summer, hiking takes up the spring and fall seasons. Winter provides skijoring and snowshoeing adventures with the group.

All these activities are available in the Forks of the Credit Provincial Park, where widely varied terrain consists of trails traversing the Niagara Escarpment and the rolling hills of the Oak Ridges Moraine. A generous variety of trees and vegetation grows in the forests we traipsed through. The park is large enough that we easily accomplished four hours of hiking, while leaving more exploration for another visit.

The fall day I signed us up for turned out to be overcast and fairly mild. I was comfortable in jeans and a couple of layers covered by a light windbreaker. Tessi was contented in her own fur as usual.

Eren greeted us right away in the parking lot and pointed out where everyone was gathering. Once I had my backpack and cameras organized, Tessi and I joined them. Eren went over what our day would entail. A couple of expert guides also joined us – Donna, with Murphy (lab) and Rosie (border collie); and Sarah, with her puppy companion, Logan (husky shepherd mix).

Each of us in the group took turns introducing our dogs and ourselves. Canine hikers ranged in size, age, and breed-from Sierra (American mastiff) to Tala and Cleo (mini schnauzers). Logan, at three months old, was the youngest, whereas some of them, such as Mike (lab cocker mix), are in their teens. The human parents, all varying in age, were mainly women; only a few men were present. Most of the group has participated with Dog Paddling Adventures before.

Liv, Mike’s human mom, is one of DPA’s returning customers. She once lived in Calgary, where she and her dog often enjoyed exploring the mountains. During one of their outings they came upon a young bear at Sunwapta Falls. After stunned stares all around, Liv and her leashed companion headed the other way before finding out if momma bear was wandering the area. Liv now calls the Niagara region home. She hasn’t found too many dog friendly places yet, though she says there are a lot of pretty little parks.

Sarah and I talked about various topics on and off throughout the day. She had also lived in Calgary, mentioning that coyotes are a concern in addition to bears. Now she lives in Toronto, where she enjoys taking Logan to the dog park at The Beaches, a lakeside community and well-known tourist destination in the city.

I had plenty of opportunity to chat to my fellow hikers as the day carried on. Carolyn, April’s (husky shepherd mix) mom, told me how April had been bitten the year before in a Toronto off-leash park. Carolyn had been gradually getting her used to other dogs again, purposely waiting to join a large group such as Dog Paddling Adventures. While Carolyn and I talked, I could tell April was a little anxious around some of the dogs; however, with Carolyn’s guidance she settled into a pleasant walk.

Sierra had her own issues to work through. She had gotten lost on a previous outing, but was soon found. Her mom, Debbie, thought maybe she’d stay close this time. They were together every time I noticed them. The guides, equipped with two-way radios, disperse themselves throughout the group. They can quickly check with one another if anyone or any dog is missing.

Tessi, as usual, zipped around trees, bushes and hikers (human and canine), only pausing to beg for treats and to sniff through foliage. Every so often I’d have to call her back if I lost track of her while I was conversing with others.

A few of the dogs had a romp in a pond we passed. I enjoyed watching the big-bodied Sierra frolicking in the water like a child. Debbie had mentioned she doesn’t swim; however, the water was shallow enough for some fun.

We took a brief break where a couple of trails meet. Eren headed us toward the platform overlooking Credit Falls where, for the first time that day, our group spread out. I tended to lag behind because of my picture taking.

We took a longer break at the platform. If Tessi and I had been on our own, I would have, if possible, headed to the bottom of the falls for some exploration. As if Tessi knows my interests, she started heading that way as we approached the platform. While we appreciated the view from above, Eren handed out snacks consisting of GORP*, candies, and Kool-Aid. He had recommended we bring water for ourselves.

After Eren took a group photograph, we headed on. Having a minor issue with my own camera put me way behind the group. Eren and one of guys walked in sight ahead of me. While Tessi ran back and forth between us, I tried to catch up. Interesting photo opportunities of scenic hills and patterns in the grass kept me behind though.

The trail eventually returned to the Credit River, where soon the woods opened to reveal a grassy field. I paused to take pictures of the dogs running and jumping through the long grass.

We stopped for lunch by the shallow, fast moving river where a wall of trees loomed as a backdrop. The guides set out a selection of food items, such as lunch meat, cheese, and buns on a flat part of a tree. We had our pets leashed as previously requested; no one wanted them eating our hard earned lunch. They had had a lot of goodies along the way, since we had been encouraged to help ourselves to Eren’s stash of dog treats. They were offered the leftovers after we ate.

Our afternoon tour would reveal the park’s steeper climbs. Twenty years of being smoke-free means little when I ascend steep hills. One of our fellow hikers had the right idea by pausing a few times to take pictures, giving her lungs respite from the climb.

We settled into a fairly level hike where our footsteps crunched the dead leaves carpeting the forested floor. Partway through the afternoon, a couple of the dogs were found a little too close to some animal excrement. I saw one dog’s fur was smeared with brown that smelled quite stinky. I felt sorry for the dog’s mom; yet, to be honest, I had that instinctive reaction of relief Tessi had not been the one in the situation. About 10 minutes later I caught Tessi rolling in some excrement herself. The rest of my day would be filled with her repulsing aroma. I tried rinsing her with the rest of my bottled water. I’ve always known to carry water when hiking, but never thought of its uses beyond satisfying thirst. Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough to rid her of the icky substance.

As we carried on with our nature tour, hope of a larger water source appearing kept me distracted. Nevertheless, I continued to chat with some of the others, such as Andrea and John Ackroyd while their dogs Amy Jay (border collie) and Daphne Rose (cocker spaniel), along with Tessi, dashed back and forth ahead us. The couple is from Oakville and quite often run their dogs at their local dog park.

On the last leg of our hike, we reached the pond we had encountered earlier in the day. I gave Tessi a rinse with a piece of cloth I happened to have on me.

Back at the parking lot, as I wiped Tessi off with an old towel generously given to me, I thought about how gratifying it had been to have someone else plan an outing. I could enjoy the walk while letting others worry about where we were going. I also appreciated being sent directions beforehand to assist in finding the parking area. I’ve spent too many trips getting lost on my way to parks and in parks.

Time moves on and soon snow will blanket Forks of the Credit Provincial Park and the rest of our countryside. Dog Paddling Adventures will bring out the skis and snowshoes as they abandon themselves to the winter landscape. In no time at all, green will sprout everywhere bringing the heat of summer. People and their canoes, including DPA and its customers, will be found paddling our province’s many rivers. No matter the time of year, a person and his or her canine companion can find interesting ways to enjoy the outdoor scenery.

For more info:

• www.dogpaddlingadventures.com
• http://www.ontarioparks.com/English/fork.html

*The acronym GORP stands for Good Old Raisins and Peanuts, but is informally used to name any mixture of nuts, dried fruits, seeds and such eaten as a high energy snack during outdoor activities such as hiking.

(c) Cheryl Smyth, 2009

Pictures Eren had taken during our hike can be found at:

http://www.dogpaddlingadventures.com/trippicsnov152009.html

I picked Tessi up so Helen could take a picture of us against the blue sky and the green tapestry below. As Tessi held me tightly, her nails dug into the back of my neck, one fiercely piercing my skin. I let her stay that way as I kept a smile on my face for the camera. When I looked at the picture later, Tessi’s eyes were huge. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken her up the 31 m (100 ft.) tower, though she had started the climb enthusiastically. Once we reached the bottom-I carried her as we descended the last half of the staircase-she was happy to receive plenty of attention from others passing by; the climb was forgotten.

At the Dorset Fire Tower Park, the lookout tower looms 142 m (466 ft.) above lake level, giving a memorable 803 square km (310 square mile) viewing radius of tree carpeted hills dotted with lakes. The park was one of the first places we explored during our visit to the Huntsville area of the Muskoka region of Ontario.

The Arrowhead Inn

We stopped at the Arrowhead Inn, owned by Herta and Tristan Thomm, on our arrival in Huntsville, so we could unload the car and get settled into the room we would have for two nights. We were then ready to delve into discovering what was hidden in the unending forests.

Before leaving, however, I had a chat with Herta. She and her husband are dog-friendly people, owning two themselves. Included in the response to my email sent for information was “no extra charge for the 35 lb. mix and also very welcome at our location.”

Herta told me how she and her husband generally allocate a couple of rooms for people accompanied by dogs. She said that out of 40 canine guests, maybe three prove to be a problem. Throughout the year, agility events can bring 20 or more dogs at a time to their motel. Herta has excellent cleaning equipment for the rooms, so people coming later wouldn’t know an animal had been there. For extra sensitive guests, she’ll make sure a couple of rooms get aired out for a month or so.

Canines are allowed leashed at the sides and front of the motel. There is a generous area out back where they are allowed to run free, if they have good call-back. Conveniently placed at each end of the building is a garbage pail and some poop baggies. I let Tessi have some off-leash freedom in the back before we headed out to find the Dorset Fire Tower Park.

Scary Heights and Steep Slopes

The park was easy to find and after paying the $4 charge, I drove the car up the hill to the parking area. Andrea, the woman working at the park store, stopped us to take a picture of Tessi. She loves dogs and likes having pictures of the ones visiting the park. I spent some time chatting with her before we headed to the tower. She told me she had lived in the Yukon for five years, which she loved and misses immensely. She and her pooch, Caden, used to enjoy amazing nature walks on endless trails in and outside of Whitehorse, from the lower to upper benches into the high country and sometimes to the top of the surrounding mountains.

Somehow our conversation led to a discussion of the problem of discarded broken glass, which seems common everywhere and easily found by our pet’s paws. I was surprised when Andrea told me it was even an issue in the natural region of the Yukon. I found that out when I told her Tessi has cut her paws a few times on broken glass hidden throughout the village where we live. Even at the tower, Andrea often picks up glass shards.

I talked to her again after the tower climb. She gave me an alcohol swab for the wound on my neck. I felt like such a mean mom for taking Tessi up the stairs; however, I’m used to her willingly joining me on my adventures. Andrea said that most people leave their dogs below when they climb the tower. Some of the dogs then spend the time whining while their family is gone. I’ve since found in my research that only 60% of human visitors climb the 128 steps to the top of the tower. Hurray for Tessi for reaching the top.

She was very happy once we were hiking the park’s 2.3 km (1.4 mile) trail. It reveals the area’s precious array of trees and plant life, offering various types we don’t see in the sparse Carolinian forests at home. I used to love taking close-up pictures in nature, but hadn’t done so in years. An interesting variety of ferns and fungi littered the forest floor, shooting up from twisted tree roots and old fallen trees. I was inspired to make almost constant use of my camera while we walked. Holding a leashed Tessi in one hand and taking steady pictures with the other proved a challenge, especially on some of the rougher terrain. I noticed Tessi loved the change in scenery as well; she was eager to sniff most of the plants we passed.

In compliance to the sign over the store’s door, I kept Tessi leashed. I didn’t want to chance her going after bears anyway. I would like to think we’d have seen one, as the trees were spread out. The trail gradually worked its way downhill. A section of large rocks was tricky to climb over, with the blazes being the only indication we were still on a trail. We came close to a highway before the trail turned to head back up the hill. The information on the map wasn’t lying when it said that part of the route was very steep. We struggled our way up to get back to the tower area.

Tessi, in her usual impatience, spent most of her time during our hike at the other end of the stretched leash. This actually helped keep me stable as we went over the rocks and up the steep hill. I’m not sure if I agree with the classification of the trail I had read, which said it is moderate in difficulty. We were questioning the definition of moderate often during our hike, though it was an enjoyable challenge and well worth the effort.

Peek-a-Boo Rock, a lookout we happened upon once we returned to the tower area, took us down a few easy steps to a chain link fence blocking a sudden drop. The view was another of the lakes and trees. By this time the sun was low in the sky, treating us to beautifully lit forested hills.

Oxtongue Rapids and Ragged Falls

The next day, we went in search of a couple of picnic areas with water features, which were indicated as being right beside highway 60 (the main highway between Huntsville and Algonquin Park) on our tourist’s map. As we drove, first looking for Oxtongue Rapids, we eventually saw the sign-Oxtongue Rapids Park Road-on a paved side road. When the road turned to dirt, I realized we were heading to another destination that seemed to be in an obscure place. I was reassured we were heading the right way when the road met up with a lively river. We soon saw a picnic table under a shelter and a portable toilet. If all those names weren’t etched into the shelter’s posts, I’d wonder if anyone ever went there.

A row of trees divided the river and road. Making sure Tessi stayed on the river side, I let her loose. I didn’t want her wandering into the woods on the other side. She stuck close to either me or Helen, who wandered upstream a bit. I also didn’t want Tessi to be tempted to go in the water for a drink, as I didn’t know how strong the currents were. She must have sensed the river wasn’t a good place to wade since she took a drink while standing on the bank.

After many pictures taken by Helen and me, we left the rapids to find Ragged Falls. Once back on highway 60, we continued east toward Algonquin Park. We passed another Oxtongue Rapids Park Road sign, giving me the feeling the long road would have eventually come back out to the highway if we had followed it through instead of coming back the way we came.

Ragged Falls turned out to be in a provincial park, where a trail meanders through the woods, partly skirting the bluff overlooking Oxtongue River. Our first sight of the falls was at a distance and blocked by trees. Eventually, we were treated with a better view as we got closer, though trees still tightly framed the vista. At this point, the cliff’s edge was safely fenced.

The trail led us to a compelling outcrop along the top of the falls. In this section, fencing was nonexistent. I kept Tessi leashed, as I had so far, while we climbed around the outcropping. We were very close to the water churning and rolling its way around and over rocks, before escaping to the bottom of the cliff. To be so close to the tempestuous river was thrilling.

Our hike continued to hug the river. The water ran quiet most of the way, with the occasional rapids. We walked until we saw a “hunting in progress” sign. Not knowing if it was still valid, we turned and headed back. We returned to the car with the satisfaction of enjoying another hike where we continued to see a wide diversity of foliage-and smells for Tessi.

Memorial Park Trail

After a lunch break at the motel, we stayed in Huntsville to hike one of the many recreational trails in the area offering a variety of lengths. We chose the shorter 1.2 km (less than a mile) Memorial Park Trail. It starts off following the Muskoka River on one side and an old railroad track on the other. I found the directions the tourism pamphlet gave us to be confusing. We took a couple of wrong turns before we got our bearings. We knew it led to Lion’s Lookout, which we eventually found. The walk from the lookout was on even terrain through the woods, except for a 300 m (984 ft.) steep climb (a warning was stated in the pamphlet). The pathway then opened to a playing field hemmed in on two sides by walls of jagged rock. An opening in the trees on the other side of the field got us back on the path, taking us to a secondary road. A hike down the hill led back to the starting point in time to find supper.

Who is Having the Accidents?

We decided to try Chinese takeout from the Kings Buffet restaurant. While carefully cutting my well-done sweet and sour chicken, back in the motel room, I was thinking about how Herta had mentioned to me that she wishes when a dog does have an accident that the owner would tell her.

Just then, the chicken ball went flying across the table and unto the floor, leaving a bright pink saucy trail. Luckily, I got it cleaned up before it stained. Just as I mentioned to Helen to be careful, one of her chicken balls went flying across the table and down the curtain. We were lucky to erase that pink path, too. It would have been sadly ironic to tell Herta we made a mess, not Tessi.

Happy Tails Camp and Resort

Tuesday morning, I had planned a visit with Lisa Brooks from Happy Tails Camp and Resort, located about eight km (five miles) outside of Huntsville. I had met her at Woofstock and was interested in learning more about her facilities. Though I never like to leave Tessi anywhere, if I did this would be the place. Dogs have a freedom here they probably only imagine in their dreams. The camp features a wooded lot where they can freely sniff through grass or chase squirrels. There is an area featuring a spring-fed pond for the dogs to swim in. Inside, the doggy bedrooms all lead out into a common area where they can snooze in front of a fireplace.

Tessi and I accompanied Lisa to the top of a knoll overlooking the pond. Lisa called to her canine guests, which brought them rushing outside with wagging tails and excitement. We could observe them hang out without them knowing we were watching. Lisa’s own pet, a pug named Stella, followed us, along with some of Lisa’s free roaming chickens that unintentionally enticed Tessi to constantly pull on her leash to go after them. Since Lisa’s own dogs ignore the chickens, such as Stella was, they have no fear.

I get the impression that Lisa is very proud of Babe, a 16 year old lab/collie mix, for she seems to be a fine example of what Lisa has been able to achieve with her camp. Babe came to Lisa two years ago, because the owners couldn’t take ca

re of her anymore. The dog’s quality of life has since improved exponentially. Lisa says, “She runs, drops down on her front to invite me to play her favourite game of catch-me-if-you-can…and then scoots and runs loops around me…to show me how fast she is…. ”

Lisa offers long-term pet care for those who have to be away or are indisposed for an extended time, such as a serious illness, a job out of the country, or Armed Forces duty.

Once my visit with Lisa was over, we had to head home. I was surprised that it took only five hours to reach London, where Helen lives. I had only another hour beyond London until I was home. It was nice to learn that the Muskoka region, with its mass of parks and trails, all celebrating the beautiful scenery, was not far from home.

Websites for more info:

www.arrowheadinn.ca

www.happytails.on.ca

www.dorset-tower.ca

Andrea informed me recently that the issue of the rocks on the trail at Dorset Fire Tower Park is being looked into.

(c) Cheryl Smyth, 2008

Click the Facebook icon above to see more pictures of this visit to Huntsville, plus an additional visit Tessi and I made a year later to see the fall colours.