Ganaraska #9

My day on the Ganaraska trail usually started around 530-600. I loved the softness of the morning light, and the cool of the day’s beginning. An early morning start also allowed me to put in 14-16 hour hiking days. I was going to need every one of those hours to complete this day that had started so badly in the swamp. Once I finally freed myself from the water channel and found the beaver dam, I had to push myself hard to make up for time lost. Initially I was in an area of lakes and hard wood forests with gently rolling hills. This changed quickly to typical Canadian Shield with rocks and bogs and swamp, and more beaver dam crossings than any person should have to use. This would be the most grueling day I had ever hiked, and also the one that I most loved. After two days of no contact with the modern world, my mind…stilled. I don’t have the words to explain how this day affected me. I no longer had worries or concerns beyond finding water. Even when I was struggling to find the trail markers I was at peace and not worried. At one point I was on a large rock in a swamp, and unable to find my next marker despite thirty minutes of searching. I sat down, drank some water, and was enraptured with the sound of marsh birds and the play of light on the water. I was unconcerned about finding the marker and started to make plans to just set up camp here. One last search of the area located my marker on a small tree reached by crossing another beaver dam. Onward I continued, in a state of intense calmness and peace. Those little worries that seem so huge and insurmountable in the real world, are really insignificant when you are living for each moment that means survival, or not.

I started to notice many signs of bear activity such as overturned rocks and scat. Bears will overturn rocks looking for grubs underneath, and will leave a significant scat along the way. I had not made my planned site despite putting in a grueling hike and needed to start finding an alternative area to stay for the night. Unfortunately, I was left with few options. As the last of the daylight faded, I had to set up camp on a rock under the only tree in the area, and surrounded by swamp. I had no place to hang a bear bag and for the first time I had to keep my food near my sleep area. I was exhausted and quickly fell asleep, only to be woken by the snorts and grunts of an approaching bear. Now, I had had a tough day and just wanted to sleep, and I was in no mood for a bear encounter. I perhaps unwisely flung open my tent flap and smacked my light on and unleashed a barrage of verbal abuse against this poor bear. If a bear can look surprised, well he did; and he wisely chose to move along and leave the obviously unhinged lady alone. My night surprises did not end there. My tent is so small that the material is within inches of my face. It is an ultralight tent weighing just over an ounce and held up by my tent poles; basically the size of a snug little coffin. Imagine waking to small scrambling paws sliding down your tent and almost touching your face. My only explanation is that an owl may have caught a mouse and sat in the tree I was under, only to lose their prey which dropped on my head. By this time I just wanted sleep, and fell into the deepest slumber I had yet had on this hike. Tomorrow would be time enough to worry about the next stage