There is a mountain range that stretches across the northern shores of Lake Huron, from Killarney to Manitoulin Island. It once reached heights greater than that of the Rocky Mountains, but the eons have whittled them down to their current presentation, which is still impressive. Giant blocks of quartzite shine white in the sunlight, and tranquil lakes reflect back the cliffs and forests. The La Cloche Mountain Range is a hiker’s paradise with remote trails, stunning vistas and undisturbed wilderness.
We started out in the south parking lot, bear bells on my poles as we heeded the warnings for active bears in the area. Our hiking goal was to finish the Arabella loop, a seven kilometer trail found in the western region of the La Cloche Range. The trail was clearly marked, travelling up a gradual incline towards the summit. A large clearing was visible just off the trail, with a bench to sit on and a sign indicating that this was a spot to honor indigenous peoples. The La Cloche Mountains were once used by Indigenous peoples to signal danger, as legends say that banging on the quartzite rocks caused a ringing as if bells, hence the French name for bells. After a brief moment of reflection, we continued on our upward journey. Not long after this, my son stopped me with a whispered “look, a deer”. Just off the trail a doe warily watched us. Wanting to snap a photo, I slowly made my way to just ten feet from this beautiful creature who decided that I was no threat, head bent as she began to lick her slender legs. Slowly inching forward I was startled by sudden commotion from my left, only to see a large buck burst from the undergrowth and race towards the doe, and together the two ungulates disappeared into the forest. We continued on our way, feeling as though we had just witnessed something magical
We continued through the forest to the first turn off for the Arabella loop, but decided to venture forth to the second turn, hoping to get the strenuous climb out of the way and have an easier return trip. This trail is rated moderate to hard, for good reason. The gentle incline became much more strenuous, having us clambering up rocks and roots, feeling like the top would never come into view. Just when we thought we had topped the summit, another steep section would rise up. Eventually a sign led off from the main trail to the scenic overlook. Great, more heights, but oh so worth it. Another short steep incline up and over that quartzite rock and here we are, gazing out on a land little scarred by human endeavors. Vast forests studded with sparkling chains of lakes stretched to the horizon. We rested on the warm rocks, dazzling white in the sun and soaked up the stunning beauty. Stunted pines and cedars clung to the rock face and way down below, a dark lake reflected back the trees and clouds. We didn’t need to talk, the silence spoke for us. No sounds of cars, boats or planes, just the gentle wind in the tree tops and a crow calling from the distance. Pure bliss.
We headed on our way, the trail leading down between ridgelines covered in green ferns and soft moss. Pines and cedars gave way to oak trees, small acorns underfoot and those pesky red squirrels chittering from fallen trees. The mounds of rock give way to marsh land which opens up to reveal the lake we had seen from on high. A short side trail and a spit of land juts into the murky water with a bench placed in the best spot to enjoy the scenery. We could just see the peak we had been on, sunlight reflecting the bright light. Down here the light was softer, filtered through the trees. Dragonflies flitted from spot to spot, only landing briefly before zooming off. Of course we had to sit and breathe deeply, inhaling all that nature to recharge our souls.
The trail continued around the lake, small rocks becoming boulders which then become rock faces rearing up around us. Another steep incline and we are on top of another ridge, maples and oaks just turning orange and yellow. We considered continuing to the Heaven’s gate trail, which is even farther up the mountain, but with the sun sinking towards the horizon we thought it prudent to return to our cabin in the wilderness. That night we marveled at the stars spilled across the sky, the Milky Way bright in the darkness unbroken by electric lights. Late that night, I roused my son to listen to the haunting sound of wolves howling in the field behind us as we snuggled down in our blankets, sleepy from our adventures.
I sat in my chair, staring out over the lake as the shadows began to lengthen. A sound from above and behind me, the sound of powerful muscles powering the wings of a bald eagle that flew just above my head. A few minutes later a flock of Canadian goose flew into the last of the sun’s rays, turning their white feathers golden. Closer by small fish broke the water’s surface, small circles spreading out in ripples. A great blue heron stood in the shallows, long sharp beak ready to stab the waters for a fish meal. I started a small fire as darkness began to lay heavy in the forest and watched the yellow and orange flames keep back the darkness. I slept well despite the occasional nut that bounced off my tent and woke the next morning to the sunrise in the east, my heart and mind at peace.