Published in Just for Canadian Dentists, January/February 2014

It’s late in the afternoon and the sun has already dropped behind the western hills, now swathed in deep shadows, that stand sentinel over Algonquin Park’s southeast boundary. A light snow falls and there is a thick layer on the ground, fluffy as a feather quilt.

The silence is absolute but for the crunch our snowshoes make on the snow as we step onto the trailhead of an undulating path just inside the park.

Come July, visitors to Algonquin flood Highway 60, the park’s main artery. They will swim and they will canoe, they will hike on one of 14 trails and pitch a tent in one of eight campgrounds. Some will line up in a cavalcade two kilometres long in hopes of hearing the howls of lonely wolves. Come July, Algonquin is a tourists’ must-do.

But this isn’t July.  Today we have the forest to ourselves. We stop occasionally, watching the scenery and trying to identify the animal tracks that bisect the trail. Further on, dusk taking hold of the woods by the throat, we stop again. Now we hear the rapids of Mink Creek rushing west and we gaze at the roiling black water careering through rocks encrusted with a lacy filigree of ice crystals.

My wife smiles at me. I hesitate before I smile back.

Part of me feels as if I have scored a ringside seat to nature at her best. Part of me pines for a palm tree and a piña colada.

“It’s so beautiful,” says Sharon.

“It’s so cold,” I say.

Our goal today is hardly a five-star resort, but after the 2.3 kilometre hike to get there, it feels like it. And it certainly feels like we’ve gotten away from it all.

But I still haven’t warmed up to winter, despite the serenity and the absence of all things distracting: no cell, no phone, no internet, no television.

Then again, having achieved the Algonquin Eco-lodge mere metres outside the Park boundary, having defrosted by the fire, and now staring heavenward from a lakeshore hot tub at an indigo velvet sky decorated with a light show of stars, I’m prepared to revisit my opinion.

“Maybe winter’s not so bad,” I say, and sink up to my neck in the steaming water.

Next day the relationship thaws further when we go dogsledding with Highland Wilderness Tours.

This is a rollicking raucous adventure. The dogs howl and yip, as excited and noisy as kids in the playground on the last day of school. The forest whizzes by as I negotiate the trail’s twists and turns, adrenaline coursing through my body as I guide my team, muscles they never mentioned in physiology lectures throbbing with the effort.

Back in the hot tub that night I reconsider: winter never seemed more amiable.

On our last day in the park the friendship blossoms, so much so that by late afternoon I have waxed downright convivial.

The sun has again begun to fall behind the hills. New snow blankets the shores of Tea Lake in the park’s far western reaches. The snow continues: an alabaster veil of precipitation that transforms the scene before us into a pointillist masterpiece.

We are finishing today’s park exploration by “bushwhacking” on snowshoes – no trail for us, just pristine unblemished snow.

Halfway across the lake we stop to gauge our progress and I reflect on the day’s events thus far.

First thing this morning we stopped at the Visitors’ Centre, marveling at a vista of a gorgeous sprawling valley from our vantage point inside the Centre’s glass-walled atrium as chief park naturalist Rick Stronk described the allure of an Algonquin winter.

“Completely different place then,” said Stronk.  “No black flies, for one thing. And there’s a better chance for wolf and moose sightings this time of year. Then there’s ‘Winter in the Wild’.”

This special event held on a February long weekend features the chance to participate in a wolf howl along with activities ranging from guided hikes to landscape photography tips, from pointers on how to survive winter camping to snowshoe wildlife excursions, all capped by a campfire featuring hot chocolate and a barbecue.

Next stop on our quest was the Spruce Bog Boardwalk Trail where we joined a congregation of birdwatchers. They gasped in unison when someone sighted a rare Great Gray Owl. I, myself, began to understand the appeal of their hobby when I fed birdseed to a flock of fluttering Arboreal Chickadees from the palm of my hand.  

We chased the sun throughout the day, passing Mew Lake where skaters slashed the ice, their blades hissing in the cold air. We waved at roadside adventurers slapping on their cross-country skis as they prepared to glide through the glades.

And now we are snowshoeing across Tea Lake.

We are three hours by road from Canada’s biggest city; in spirit we are a million miles away.

I experience an epiphany as we pensively pause in the dying hours of the day. I don’t pine for piña coladas, nor do I wish for warm Caribbean waters. Instead I find myself strangely content, suddenly bathed by a feeling of awe and reverence.

“Sharon,” I say, a cloud of condensation floating before my face.  “I’m warming up to winter.”

Ends.

FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD

A golden glow from inside the Algonquin Eco Lodge illuminates the deck where bundled guests wait to see if wolves will respond to proprietor Robin Banerjee’s spine-tingling howl. No luck, though fresh tracks criss-cross the otherwise pristine snow.

“Resident wolf pack here,” says Banerjee. “Deer, moose. Just no people.”

Might just be the way he likes it. To be fair, there is something appealing about being so far from the madding crowd.

A cast-iron stove heats the seventeen-bedroom pine plank lodge decorated by ancient skis, comfortable if well-worn furniture and assorted knick-knacks. Self-generated micro hydro electricity powers the complex, one reason Ontario Tourism gave Banerjee the Award for Sustainable Tourism in 2012.

The ultimate in digital detox, Algonquin Eco-Lodge is the perfect base for exploring Algonquin Park, an oasis of beauty and tranquility far from the madding crowd.

Ends.

HOW TO WARM UP IN WINTER (64 words)

• The park doesn’t offer winter accommodation other than yurts at Mew Lake, so Algonquin Eco-Lodge is perfect. algonquinecolodge.com

• If you’re looking for luxury, consider Foxwood Resort just outside Algonquin’s west gate. Three gorgeous cottages on the shore of Lake of Bays are available through the winter and Rob and Julia Wallace are friendly and gracious hosts. foxwoodresort.ca 

• For park information log on to algonquinpark.on.ca