Tim River Part 1: Preliminary Obstacles


Knowing full well that debauchery would ensue, God did everything in His power to prevent us from paddling down the Tim River.  Despite the deity’s efforts, we eventually managed to embark on this tantalizing journey.  Before spinning this tale, however, it would be useful to provide some background information.

Having gone on a successful camping trip the previous summer, Nicholas (Kolya) and I were itching for newer, wilder outdoor adventures.  Several months ago, we began discussing some potential destinations, knowing full well that the May long weekend would slowly creep up on us.  Kolya suggested that we try going down the Tim River, which happens to lie in the western part of Algonquin park.  An avid photographer, he wanted to go there to take pictures of wildlife- moose in particular.  I, on the other hand, am a fisherman.  Naturally, then, I would only be satisfied with Kolya’s suggestion if there were fish to be had on this route.  As it turned out, I discovered that there were brook and lake trout in the area.  I have never really fished for these species before, but I figured that after some research I would be able to give it a shot.  So we decided to try out the Tim River route.

Fast forward to the week before May long weekend.  Aside from the fact that our friend Bohdan decided to join us on our trek a few weeks prior, nothing had really changed in our plans.  All we needed to do was grab a car, a canoe, our gear, and then head on over.  Easy peasy, right? Uhhh, not so fast.  First we would need to jump over a few hurdles.  A few days before departure, our good buddy Matt told us that he’d also want to come on the trip.  Great!  The more the merrier.  Unfortunately, we didn’t anticipate some of the logistical problems of adding a fourth person to the trip- the main obstacle being that we would need to take two canoes.  After some ridiculous suggestions- Kolya’s steadfast belief that Bohdan’s suburban could hold one canoe on its roof and a second one inside of the vehicle was perhaps the best one- we realized that we would either have to abandon the route we chose or ditch our buddy Matt.  Shortly after coming to this crossroad, however, Matt let us know that he wouldn’t be able to go on the trip.  So the Tim River route was back on the table.

The night before our departure, we went to Kolya’s place to put the canoe on my car.  The last time we went camping we took my sister’s car, and we had no problems putting the canoe on the vehicle.  This time, however, I was to take one of my parent’s cars.  Because I’m an idiot, I didn’t check to see whether the car had hooks under the front bumper to which the canoe fastening straps could be attached.  Of course, there were none- it was past midnight already, we were scheduled to leave at 5am, and we had no way of putting the canoe on the car.  Fantastic.  Fan-[expletive]-tastic.  Luckily, my sister was at home, and she graciously let me borrow her car for the weekend.  After a collective sigh of relief, we switched vehicles, and I went back to Kolya’s place to put the canoe on the car.  We then went back to my place for some highly intellectual discussions and a quick nap.

We quickly realized how blessed we are to live in a country like Canada.  No, I’m not talking about the pristine lakes or the wonderful wildlife, but rather the XL coffee you can buy at Tim Horton’s in the wee hours of the morning.  This magical brew kept me going from Toronto to Orillia, where we had to stop at my cottage to pick up my fishing gear.  We threw the rods and tackle box into the car and kept driving north.  But a few lines later, I realized that we had forgotten something rather important- our paddles.  Fortunately, we hadn’t travelled too far, and though the back-tracking and our absent mindedness angered me, we were able to go back to the cottage and grab a few of these propulsion sticks.  Naturally, we forgot to bring something as important as paddles, but we did not neglect to pack other vital pieces of equipment like our Cuban coffee (thanks Marco J) and french press.  Sufficed to say, we had our priorities straight.

After prying into each others’ personal lives for a few hours, we reached Kearney, where we would need to pick up our park permits.  A few weeks back, I asked Kolya whether or not we would need to reserve campsites.  Because he often goes camping in Algonquin park, Kolya assured us that we wouldn’t need to do this.  I took his word.  Entering the park office, the following conversation ensued:

“Hi, um, we need a couple of park permits for the weekend.”
“OK, do you have a reservation?”
“Um, no...did we need to make a reservation?”
“Well, it IS the long weekend.  Where are you entering the park?”
“Tim River.  Access point two.”
“OK well everything on Tim is booked...”

Oh, for [expletive]’s sake!  After all these trials and tribulations were we to be denied just because we didn’t have the foresight to book a campsite?  Many swears later, we discovered that our disappointment was merely the product of a misunderstanding.  As it turned out, what the lady meant was that the sites on Tim Lake were booked, and we were actually planning on going further along the river all the way down to Rosebary lake.  As luck would have it, there happened to be a few available campsites on that lake.  And so finally, finally, our journey began...

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