Algonquin Western Uplands – Day 1

Last weekend my friend Emilio invited me to join him on a 56km (35mi) hike along the Western Uplands Trail in Algonquin Provincial Park. I haven’t been to Algonquin since high school, so I was excited to see it again. How many miles per day will we hike? How much elevation gain will there be? And water? No idea. Emilio did all the planning and I’m just along for the ride.

I haven’t hiked since getting off the PCT in late June, so I’m a bit nervous as we drive north. Will it be easy? Hard? Soon we’re paying for our permits at the park office and then finally hiking out on the trail. My first few steps are joyous. Light, springy, quick. My legs feel fresh and I can hardly believe I’ve ever been tired in all my life. Fatigue is just an illusion. Soon though I’m back to reality. Down to regular levels of enjoyment, and then slowly the pain in my leg creeps in. But I’m determined not to let it faze me–I can deal with it for a few days.

Yours truly. Thanks Emilio (Insta @eghloum) for the photo!

My boy Emilio. What a good looking team we make.

The hiking is mostly through forest, with rolling hills. A few short steep climbs, but mostly easy terrain. Occasionally we pass small lakes and campsites. Some hikers pass in the opposite direction. There are a few small creeks to cross and plenty of mud patches to navigate. I size up my options–sunken logs and narrow rocks–and hop along trying avoid the worst of the mud. My ankles protest–this is the most they’ve flexed and strained in weeks.

Emilio powers up the climbs, and I lazily follow along keeping up a steady pace. After five hours of hiking we arrive at a rather cramped and sloping campsite on Redwing lake. There’s just barely enough room for both our tents. We unpack and lounge by the empty fire pit. Chatting, killing time, and enjoying the silence.

Emilio asks if I miss the PCT. I don’t miss the pain and loneliness, or forcing myself to constantly eat as much as possible. (Eating really is a skill you know.) But I do miss the trail. I miss the pride from accomplishing something difficult each day. I miss the nice bits of trail, with good views. Hikers I met along the way are finishing now and I’m happy for them, but also jealous of what they must be feeling. Could I have mentally and physically held up another few months on trail? Honestly, I don’t think so.

We attempt to get a fire going, but neither of us is much good. Emilio hangs his bear bag and then we sit with our feeble fire as the sun slowly sets behind the trees. When darkness hits we retreat to our tents.