Coming Home to The Massasauga Provincial Park

And with the call on the loon, which some may know as the Stupid Canadian Wolf Bird, it finally feels like we are back.

After a stressful and heartbreaking first 7 months of 2026, Darrell and I were finally able to go on a camping trip together and we chose the destination that feels like home, The Massasauga Provincial Park.

It was the last second when we were free to go camping for the August long weekend and when I first checked, there were no sites available. I’ve never let that deter me and I checked the Ontario Parks reservation site obsessively. Like, 10 times a day or more obsessively.

As usually happens, there was a cancellation and I had a site to book, which I did immediately, before even telling Darrell.

It’s been almost two years since our last backcountry trip. A stat I just double-checked with Darrell since it blows my mind that it’s been so long.

Life happens.

By the time we launched the boat yesterday, my body had already relaxed more than it has in a year. 

This was my first visit to the park when a large group was launching for a canoe trip and it was fun to see everyone getting their canoes ready to go, preparing for what is sure to be an adventure.

Our boat was weighed down by all the necessities. Sleeping bags for us and the dogs, tent, bug shelter, food, water, clothes, fishing gear, extra gas, and so much more. There was a time I tried to go minimal, only to realize I preferred camping with some comforts.

Making this trip memorable for us was the fact that it was Milim’s first time in the boat, first time camping, and first backcountry trip.

At 6-months-old, Milim has been a constant source of positive energy, mayhem, and general delight since she came home at 8-weeks-old on Easter weekend. Born a week after we lost Molly, she’s had to absorb a whole lot of grief from us and the two older dogs as we’ve faced loss after loss this year. 

And she is such a daddy’s girl. She always has to be with Darrell. 

Since Milim had never been in the boat, and since Erza hates the whine of the motor when we go fast, we headed out towards our site at a sedate pace.

Georgian Bay has the best scenery in my books. I love the Lake Superior area. I love the mountains. But damn, Georgian Bay, with all the rocky islands and windswept pines and water is really where it’s at.

Anyone who knows Georgian Bay knows that you don’t race through unfamiliar water. That’s a great way to destroy the lower end of your motor. Site 336 was in an area somewhat unfamiliar to us so Darrell picked his way through the islands with an eye on the chart to make sure we didn’t hit anything. 

The breezy conditions settled as we entered the sheltered bay of the campsite and pulled up on the sandy landing. Some sites make you be very careful about choosing where you land your boat, this one had plenty of sandy beach. 

Pulling in you find the firepit and picnic table, which is propped up on rocks to make it level. To the left is a short path up to the tent pad. There’s not a whole lot of room for more than one tent, but the website says there are three tent pads. There’s a wood platform that gives you a level spot for your tent, and maybe one small area for another tent. 

It’s a nice and sheltered site.

After setting up camp we headed out for an evening fish around the island. There’s plenty of nice vegetation here for a good fish to hide in. All we ended up with were small fish nibbling and one baby pike caught by Darrell, which intrigued Milim greatly. 

By the time we were heading to bed the forecasted rain was starting to fall. 

Between panting dogs and the two us, with tent doors being closed to the rain, that tent got steamy. We should have put the tarp up so we could keep a door open. Panda and Erza slept at my feet and Milim was beside me. I pointed the two fans we had at the dogs and tossed and turned all night. 

Rain was still falling at 5am when I rolled over and Milim decided it was time to get up. We all filtered out of the tent for a bathroom visit and some breakfast. 

The bug shelter doubles as an excellent rain shelter. We sat there listening to the rain fall and waiting for the sun to come up before having a breakfast of toasted westerns.

And then the loons called.

I hadn’t realized I had gone the whole night without hearing them, but once I heard them this morning, it really felt like being home. 

To the park that was my first backcountry experience. And one that has so many memories. The one I miss when I’m away. It was good to be home.

This rambling is from our August long weekend trip to The Massasauga. It turns out that I’m better at writing while I’m in camp than when I return home and have to focus on everything else. For this reason, upcoming posts may not be a full recounting of our trips, but more of a snapshot in time during the trip.