I always thought of myself as a “singing in the rain” type of gal. A bit of rain here and there while camping can only serve to bring everyone together enjoying each others company under a tarp playing card games or telling stories about how “so and so” fell out of the canoe. Rain encounters are bonding moments which bring out a new appreciation of nature, our environment and our traveling companions.

 

On a 7 day canoe trip to the wonderful wildlands of the Chiniguchi region of Northern Ontario my happy go lucky “singing in the rain” personality was finally tested. Why is it that full day downpours only seem to happen after camp is packed, boats fully loaded and several portages remain to the next site location? Why is it that those are also the times that after several hours of paddling and trying to find the first suitable campsite that they are occupied by overfriendly wildlife? On this trip, after 3.5 long hours of rainy paddling and unloading the canoes we were greeted by an exceptionally friendly scruffy little fox welcoming us to his domain, insisting that the toll for using his territory were some snacks from our food larder. The rain didn’t seem to bother ole foxy one bit. As we slowly backed away to the shore, he continued to happily follow us, not even thinking that we were tired, soaked to the bone and in need of some hot tea to warm up.  

 

The paddling continued, and continued. Of course, upon arriving to our chosen site location – conveniently a hunt camp (note the sarcasm) had been built on it- a glaring error of the map? Or a misnavigation on our part? None the less, soaking wet and cold, we paddled disappointedly to yet another site. The only thing keeping us warm was the action of bailing multitudes of water out of our vessels. Our own personal floating swimming pools. Yippee!!

 

Setting camp up in the rain, ah, what an experience that everyone can relate to. To make things even more interesting, Murphy’s Luck was in play; even though the site was marked on the map it was very apparent that it had not been used in years. Scruffy underbrush covered the ground; the fire pit was makeshift at best, and had a much more than gradual slope down to the lake. It made sense why this site was not one of the chosen gaga sites. But it would have to do. We carefully selected areas to pitch tents, hang hammocks and set up camp that would have the least environmental impact on this untouched site.  The only saving grace was there was an odd log home style outhouse back in the bush which thankfully had a roof. The crème de la crème of thunder boxes!!

 

Camp set up, ah, at least some relaxation amidst the drops of rain falling around us and laughter from the group that my aged raingear was woefully inadequate for the storm we were encountering. Of course, the rain lasted for an additional 3 days. And it wasn’t light scattered showers, it was sequences of downpours. Due to all of my rain jacket leakage, I not only had “prune hands” I had “prune” body!

 

To top the daytime misery off, one of my traveling companions brought a new big box store tent on the trip which she was wildly proud of, even with the rest of us trying to gently educate her about characteristics a proper backcountry tent should possess should we encounter high winds, rain and other wrenches that Mother Nature may throw at us. I wish I could say that luck was on our side in this situation; however 2 of us in the 3 man tent were subject to nightly drips falling from the roof onto our heads. Ironically when moving to a new location in the tent the drips seemed to follow, much like how smoke seems have an affinity for humans around the fire. I now understand why water torture was used in concentration camps.

 

On the bright side, rain brings out elements of nature that often go unnoticed during finer weather. The beautiful songs of birds and frogs as the rains subside which sound like a chorus of celebration; The excited jumping of bass and other fish feeding at the surface along with the reflection of clouds, light and trees on the surface of the water. It’s almost like stepping into a whole new world of renewal.

 

Even though we were all soaking wet and tired, each of us canoe tripping buddies were still friends at the end of the day and it was an experience to remember. The drippity drop water torture tent saw a short life and has now been retired to car and backyard camping. We all laugh at measures we took to ensure that water didn’t accumulate on the tarps (I think we could win an award titled “camping engineering and creative rope tying for dummies”). And we have added a kayak water bailer to our gear collection. Myself, I have tried to fix the waterproofing on my rain jacket but I just don’t think it is salvageable. Even with the risk of having “Prune Body” yet again, camping, canoeing and enjoying nature in the rain is something I would never give up. I still consider myself a “singing in the rain” type of gal.