The concept of Collins Inlet Expedition was fantastic.

Collins Inlet was the North Shore of Phillip Edward Island in Georgian Bay, Ontario Canada. The area has a rich history which just begs to be explored.

The inlet itself was frequented by some of the founders of modern Canada. It was major canoe route used by barefoot First Nations peoples, and then was host to pirates. (Yarr!)

The guide books and blogs on the internet had phenomenal photographs. The area is supposed to have remnants of this forgotten era. This includes Petroglyphs, shipwrecks, old docks, and even a ghost town!

Arriving into Killarney Provincial Park, I paid the extremely high parking fees ($100.00 to leave my Jeep in the parking lot for 7 days, not including camping fees!) and drove to where I drop off the Jeep.

The entrance looked fairly unassuming, a small creek. I loaded my canoe into the water and tied it off. The trip back and forth from the Jeep was challenging. The parking lot was loose stone, and the pebbles were fairly sharp on my bare feet. It was especially difficult because my feet were still somewhat soft from a winter spent confined in shoes.

Stepping into the canoe, I bid the last vestiges of my shod world farewell as the canoe shoved off into the unknown wilderness.

Passing through the small canal, massive smooth chunks of granite reach out of the water and scrape the horizon. The clear, cold water made it look like I was floating through the air.

The small creek opened up to the massive Georgian bay. Everywhere I looked there was history to behold. Giant steel circles were attached   into the rock where ships used to dock. Spindly pine trees clung to life on small islands left behind during the logging period.

As I stared in amazement at the scenery around me, I noticed dark clouds rolling in from the west. It looked like a storm was to roll through the area very soon.

About an hour after shoving off, and heading into Collins Inlet it started to rain quite heavily. The smooth waters danced with raindrops as it hit the waters surface. I was happy to be without shoes, as the canoe started to fill with rainwater and would have quickly become soaked.

Using the GPS unit, I saw an island directly across the inlet, and decided to head there to weather out the storm. I was 1km off the coast.

I landed the canoe on a large piece of granite, which was smooth underfoot. It felt warm compared to the water. The island itself was covered with moss, rock, and lichen. Some were hard and crunchy like stepping on potato chips scattered on the floor.

Starting a fire on the island, the rain and wind died down for the evening. I roasted some hot dogs and contemplated how great it was going to be spending a full 7 days barefoot in the wilderness with my dog. It was cool out, but not freezing cold.

Pitching my tent in the wind, I climbed inside my arctic down sleeping bag with my Siberian Husky and was looking forward to a great trip the next morning – or so I thought.

The next morning I awoke to the patter of rain on my tent fly. The wind was howling and blowing viciously. I peered out the tent and looked around. It felt like I was camping in a hurricane. It was freezing cold. The weather band radio stated “Small Craft Wind Warning” and advised me not to be on the water today.

With high, blowing winds, and time on my hands, I decided to try and explore the island. I bundled up with several layers of clothing, and stepped out of my tent. The cold, wet rock beneath my feet was very miserable to be on. I walked away from the tent towards the woods nearby. The dead, wet leaves on the ground were just as frigid to be on. It was +8C without the wind chill.

At some point, someone had left a giant tarp from a tractor trailer on the island. It was very stiff and disgusting to handle. I forced it around and made a shelter for cooking later.

The high winds, rain, and cold made exploring the island miserable. The constant wet, cold conditions chilled me to the bone.  The wind cut through my layers of clothing. I did not get more than a few hundred metres on the island before I decided to turn back.

I spent the next three days lying about in my tent. I wrote in my journal, and contemplated my next move. If the storm lasted past day 5, I would have to ring the coast guard for a tow.

On the morning of Day 5, there was a break in the wind. I packed my gear, jumped in the canoe and bee-lined it to the mainland.

Although It was great spending 5 full days without shoes, it was a miserable, cold, wet trip.