So let me take you back in time to when I first became “smitten” with Algonquin Park and how this journey began:
I was a sweet sixteen year old and very shy, when my parents arranged for me to expand my horizons and come to Southampton, Ontario, Canada, to visit my Aunt Mip and my cousins, Sue and Jill. Having only met them once or twice this was a daunting but exciting trip and little did I, or my parents know, but one that would shape the course of my life!
My “older” cousins were excited to show me life in Canada, my first hamburger at MacDonalds at midnight, yes, that was exciting for a teenager from England! Being overwhelmed by the vast array of doughnuts at Tim Hortons, being terrified driving on the 401, huge eight lane roads in Toronto, after being used to little twisty one lane roads in England. Coming down the road to hear the roar of Niagara Falls and then having my breath taken away by the sheer splendour of such a sight. But the best was yet to come!
We were going camping! Sue and Jill and a bunch of their friends had arranged a trip to a place called Algonquin Park before I left Canada. It was Thanksgiving weekend and everyone was so excited to be packing for this trip. I had no idea what lay before me, but helped them load up their little yellow Volkswagon Beetle, complete with canoe on the roof. It was packed to the hilt!
So, in the pitch black, at two in the morning we all set off, yes, I did say two in the morning! It was just like a convoy, each car had walkie talkies, “come in rubber duckie”! Now, I’m really giving my age away, but those walkie talkies really worked to keep the drivers awake. After what seemed an eternity the landscape changed.
I remember so vividly my very first impressions of Algonquin Park. I was sat in the back seat of this little yellow “Bug” with hardly any room to move, by nose pressed against the window watching the beauty that was unfolding as dawn approached as we drove along. The mist rising on this vast array of lakes, the majestic trees and the rolling hills, the scenery was so quiet and beautiful, it was absolutely magical. Never, had I felt so much in awe. I had fallen in love!
Arriving at Cannisbay Campground we started to unpack the car and set up tent. As the light diminished my next adventure began, I had never been in a canoe on a lake, let alone at night! My “crazy” cousins took me out on the lake in the pitch black with flashlights. I remember seeing the flickering lights from camp fires around the shore of the lake and how small and far away they seemed. How would I ever survive if the canoe capsized, nobody would ever find me in the dark, all these thoughts ran through my mind! But, it was also here that I first heard a sound that will always stay with me, the evocative wail of the loon, on the still of the dark lake. I had never heard anything so hauntingly beautiful in my life and still today it is my favourite sound and it’s call always stops me in my tracks whenever I’m in Algonquin Park.
Never, with the exception of my trip to photograph polar bears, which is story for another day, had I ever felt so cold at night. My Marks & Spencers anorak was not enough. I was lent a ski suit to sleep in, on top of all my clothes, inside a sleeping bag with blankets. I couldn’t stop shivering, but some of that might have had to do with the bear stories I was told! So, of course, coming from England we don’t have any “dangerous” animals. My experience of viewing animals in the wild were squirrels and occasionally a deer. So now, here I was in “BEAR” country. Big, fierce, ravenous bears! Bears who broke into your tent in the middle of the night to eat YOU or any food that was around you. So all food was packed in the car overnight with the exception of cookies and chocolate that my cousins insisted on having for “emergencies”. Well that was enough to make me shiver with fear. We were just begging bears to come and eat us! I was feeling really homesick.
Well, we survived another night and woke to a covering of snow and the taps in the campground all being frozen solid. This was such an adventure!
The following night, my new friends and family thought it would be fun to go looking for bears, who were they kidding! Fun? So we all hiked to the garbage dump in the dark with flashlights. I felt a mixture of excitement and sheer terror at the thought of seeing a real bear in the wild. Our quest was successful and we found about six or seven black bears but then something happened that I wasn’t prepared for. After seeing the bears there was a lot of commotion, I was tied to a tree in the pitch black and everyone ran in different directions in the bush and I was left all alone, in my mind, to be eaten by the bears. I would never see my parents again!
After what seemed an eternity and much crying for help I was let loose. It was a huge “joke” but I definitely wasn’t laughing. I didn’t speak to my cousins for the rest of the night.
However, the beauty of Algonquin Park made up for my frightening experiences. It was here I heard my first call of the loon, I heard my first wolf howl and I had my first encounters with bears. It was here that I realized this is where I want to be, in nature. So those first images of this Canadian wilderness were etched on my mind many years ago, never to be forgotten, never ever thinking that these experiences would lead me to become a wildlife and nature photographer, wanting to go running in search of wildlife, wanting to share what I see with others. Thank you my friends for taking me to Algonquin Park.
“It is my intention to present – through the medium of photography – intuitive observations of the natural world which may have meaning to the spectators” – Ansel Adams.
