Killarney - Rocks, Logs and Lakes (Part VII)

>>>>if you haven't already, please read parts 1 - 6 first (scroll down to the bottom), the story will make much more sense...

Killarney Rocks! I really can’t say enough about the rocks; it’s what sets the place apart. The defining La Cloche mountain range is composed mainly of beautiful white quartzite, which explains why it is still here after 3.5 billion years - it is a very hard, erosion resistant rock and only a few gemstones like ruby, sapphire, topaz and diamond are harder. Quartzite is quartz sand that has been metamorphosed (by heat and pressure.) It breaks through, not around, the quartz grains, producing smooth surfaces when broken or split instead of rough granular ones; a field of the angular slabs looks to my eye like a quarry of unfinished headstones. Quartzite rocks do not easily settle or pack making negotiating a field of the stuff tricky, it can shift under your feet at any time. Add to it that the smooth faces can be slippery (especially when wet) and you know you will need to pay attention when hiking through it.

It can be difficult to take a good photograph of a scene dominated by white quartzite because it fools the camera’s internal light meter into thinking that the scene is more brightly lit than it really is. (Same thing happens with snow pictures.) The exposure may need to be manually adjusted to compensate, which causes another problem – other elements in the scene may now be overexposed.

The other fascinating rock type in the park is pink granite. The color can range from slightly pink to a deep, almost red in places depending on how much pink potassium feldspar it contains. This stuff is sexy and I don’t just mean because of the color - it tends to weather smooth and rounded – the undulating deep pink shoreline along the Georgian Bay is particularly striking.

OK, so enough already about rocks – back to the hike. I climb out of the chasm somewhat disoriented, looking for the trail. At this point, it passes through a field of quartzite and the only trail markers here are cairns of quartzite, which of course, blend into the landscape; they can be difficult to spot. I stumble back and forth through the field, still not finding the trail. Finally, I go back to the edge of the chasm to see where the trail lines up on the other side; I see that it is about a hundred feet upstream from where I am and now I have no problem picking it up on this side. I trip back through the field of quartzite and then the trail enters the woods.

I pass by several babbling brooks; at one of them I spy the remains of an old ‘lincoln log’ type cabin – now reduced to just a few rotting notched logs. I sense some real history here, the large tree now growing in the middle is evidence it was built quite some time ago. I vow research it to learn more when I return home. (Update – I couldn’t find anything at all about it.)

Next, I pop out of the woods along the shoreline of beautiful Acid Lake. It gets its name from being one of the most naturally acidic lakes in the park causing the water to be incredibly clear, but nearly devoid of life. I was looking forward to getting here, this is one of the most scenic parts of the entire hike. The trail is sheltered by pine trees and the footing beneath is soft, pine needle duff, quite a contrast from the usual rocks and roots. The lake is not big, but is very fetching; it’s dotted with tiny islands and an impressive quartzite ridge wall rises up behind it. On a warm day, this would be a great spot to stop and lollygag; but it's decidedly not a warm day today and the wind is still blowing; I linger just long enough to take in the view while I stuff an energy bar in my mouth.

The trail then crosses the Acid Lake outlet over a steep beaver dam - a real tightrope walk. If you slip here, you will either: (a) fall into the lake or (b) fall about six feet down onto the rocks of the outlet creek. Neither one sounds like fun to me, so I pick my way across carefully. From here, the trail re-enters the woods; I walk for about five more minutes and then decide I’ve had enough for today - I want to have enough time to go into town for a shower and get back to cook dinner before dark.

Fast forward three hours: hot water and soap suds are cascading down my body washing away three days of grime and sweat - what a lovely feeling; I’ll never take a shower for granted again. Now well-scrubbed and warm, I return to my campsite in great spirits. I pour myself a glass of wine and prepare dinner in fading light. After a good hike, food always tastes delicious, it doesn’t much matter what it is. On the menu tonight is Italian sausage, squash and homegrown tomatoes – yummmm! Under the influence of clean, well-fed and a couple of glasses of wine, I decide that tomorrow morning I will attack THE CRACK. Since I want to be there for sunrise, a good portion of the hour long hike will be in the dark.

Next - “THE CRACK at Dawn”