I ventured into the wild this past weekend. York River outside of Bancroft was the destination. Andrew, Josh and I took off early Saturday morning, parked by the river a couple hours later, unloaded and took off down the river.
I needed this. Nature-deficit disorder has been nipping at my heels since I made the move to downtown Toronto last May. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy life in the city, but at times I need to escape the concrete jungle to spend some time with the natural earth.
We spent two nights, three days on the York River. To me, there is nothing better than floating down a river in a canoe or kayak, listening to the sound of silence that you get nowhere else but in the wild and breathing the freshest air there is to breathe. When I am surrounded by trees, rivers and wildlife I feel healthy, happy and alive. To top it all off, the fall colours were changing the surroundings before our eyes from the summer greens to the autumn reds, oranges and yellows.
At night the temperature dropped, but the fire kept us warm. In the mornings the frost bit, but the sun rose to thaw our bones. Mother Nature even threw a little snow and hail at us while we were on the river, I especially enjoyed that.
The three of us joined forces and worked together as one to battle long portages, upriver currents and bitter cold, rainy nights. We laughed as Josh flipped the canoe and as Andrew’s sleeping bag caught fire. It was a battle, and we came out victorious.
For all of this, I thank the wild. I hope to see you again soon.