Like stepping into an oil painting of wild forests over ancient stone, the elemental grandeur of Killarney Provincial Park, the muse of A.Y. Jackson, enchants us. Our Canadian Shield, an armour of Precambrian rock, is bejewelled with luminous white quartzite mountains, deep sapphire lakes, and smooth pink granite shorelines.
The Chikanishing Trail leads us to the water. Here, we lie on soft sculpted rock with curves and comfort like a Posturepedic mattress. Gentle waves of glass wash diamond ripples up to our toes and beckon us like Sirens to swim. From the pink bedrock that fans out to the water, we then hike through the woods to climb The Crack, a massive fissure full of rocks that we scramble over to the top. At the peak of La Cloche Mountains, the rock is white, the trees around us are green and red, the water below is blue, and from our perch in the sky we can see for miles and miles.
Nearby is the Killarney Mountain Lodge, an all-season wilderness resort of rustic luxury, log cabins, a full-service marina, and a dining room that reflects its Northern Ontario surroundings. We’ve come here before--paddled in the morning mist, fished for massive pike, snacked on s'mores at a bonfire by the shore, and stargazed at night. The allure of this Northern Ontario retreat holds deep emotional appeal.
One quiet afternoon, waves clapping our boat, I ask our Ojibwe guide why he doesn’t need a fishing licence as I do. Looking far across the water, he gently replies, “Because these are my fish.” His eyes and his years tell me I need no follow up question. My son has reeled-in our dinner, and we say, “miigwech.”
From the main lodge, we swim in the pool, play billiards, rent bikes and plan hikes. Dining is a feast for the senses. While there are vegetarian options, what catches our interest are the northern proteins like Venison Wellington with a blueberry demi, lip-smacking braised Bison short ribs, Elk Rack with cranberry rosemary demi, and Grilled steak with an espresso crust. Pickerel papillote arrives perfectly steamed and accented with charred fennel and sun-dried tomatoes in a parchment wrap, and is accompanied by lemon and olive butter to melt into this tender fish. Each dish is flavour forward and offers a true taste of place within warmth and charm of service that makes us want to linger longer.
The night sky scintillates like it’s been brushed with pixie dust. We sit by the dock and wish upon shooting stars. Our cottage, quiet and cozy, provides simple but refined comfort. In the silence of the night, far away from the cacophony of the city, we sink into sleep.
As the sun rises and dances across the water we sidle up for a stack of Blueberry pancakes with a side of duck sausage. Our breakfast of champions fuels us for another day of exploration through Ontario’s backcountry.
A short drive out of Killarney Provincial Park leads us to Point Grondine Park, 18,000 acres of old growth pine in Wiikwemkoong Unceded Territory.
As we paddle through passages, we feel a lucidity emerge from within us as every distraction disappears, and all we hear is the rhythm and swish of swirling eddies from our paddling amidst the silence of the woods. The waterways are neural pathways through unspoiled wilderness; they’re alive and interconnected, and speak to something ancient and instinctive to be remembered as much as to be discovered, like a calling from the landscape itself.
As part of the ancestral home of the Odawa, Point Grondine Park was historically used for harvesting berries, wild rice and game. Today it does not appear on any official Ontario Provincial Parks list because it is an Indigenous Protected area—one of the only parks in Canada that lies entirely on First Nation Reserve land.
While offering all the dramatic scenery of the Georgian Bay coastline, it is still a hidden gem below the radar of competitive tourism. In the stillness and in the silence, we hike and paddle to explore its wild waters, endless sky, and the spirit of the wind through the pines.