Words: Robin Esrock / Photos and Video: Jeff Topham
I used to think snowmobiling was an afternoon activity one might do on a ski trip. Something you might do for fun when you need a break from the hills. Then I heard the Call of the Wild from Central Ontario, which inspired a multi-day adventure to explore both the region and the thrill of sledding. Riders from across Canada and around the world flock here each winter, and I was curious to understand why. Regardless if this is your first or fifteenth trip on the seat, this day-by-day report might just inspire your own journey to a truly remarkable neck of the woods.
DAY 1
Driving north from Toronto, the highways become countryside arteries through scenic rural communities. After three hours, I reach the graded access point of the Algonquin Eco-Lodge, where I place my bag in a shed to be shuttled by an ATV, and gather with a small group at a roadside meeting point. Harper Powersports and Marine in Halliburton deliver the sleds on schedule, which includes Ski-Doo MXZ 600 models and the larger Ski-Doo Grand Touring 600. A helmet with a heated visor is also included, and we receive clear instructions how to operate the machine. We’re warned against speeding, open water, crashing, and avoiding a yard sale – sled speak for a crash that scatters stuff everywhere. With limited experience on a snowmobile, I’m initially hesitant with the thumb throttle, especially knowing my sled can hit speeds up to 150 km/hr! Powerful yet responsive, we rev our machines in single file to the lodge for our first look at home base. Snowmobiling tends to attract like-minded folks, so everyone gels quickly. We gather at the dinner table for the first of several delicious home-cooked meals. We play some cards and retire for the night, eager for a big day of sledding in the morning.
DAY 2
You don’t feel tired when you wake up early itching to do something you’ve always wanted to do. The wood stove has been firing since 7:30am, so the dining room is cozy as soft snow falls outside the window. After a hot breakfast, we slip on our various layers and hit the sleds. It’s a steep learning curve and I’m already more comfortable with my machine, increasing the speed and smoothly rounding corners. Ontario’s labyrinth of trails appears endless, our route widening and thinning as treads cut fresh tracks in the snow. We cross a maple grove with lines tapping syrup, motor over bridges, stop to look at helpful signpost maps, and access the first of several frozen lakes. While speed limit on the trails is 50 km/hr, there’s no speed limit on the lakes. After our guide determines it’s safe, we open up our throttles to feel the power of the engine, and the thrill that comes from hitting 120 km/hr, breaking trail on the ice and snow.
We pull into a diner and BBQ shack for lunch, striking up conversations with the friendly owner and a couple of local riders heading in the opposite direction. We talk about which trails are graded best, the overall conditions, the location of various markers, and the performance of our machines. Snowmobiling each winter can be an outdoor pursuit, but in this part of the world, it’s clearly a lifestyle. We spend the rest of the day exploring the trails in a large loop, accessing another play area on a huge lake where we can push both throttle and adrenalin glands. Exploring the landscape and the limits of our comfort zone, it’s no wonder this region of Ontario is called Explorers’ Edge. Welcoming us back at the lodge is a pot of hearty soup, a stacked charcuterie tray, cold beers and a hot shower. We discuss sledding and life over a fantastic dinner of grilled chicken, salads, Greek potatoes, and various dips. The snow storm has passed and stars now pop in the clear, night sky. With rugged wilderness and hardly any light pollution, I see the Milky Way, satellites, and why the region is popular with amateur and professional stargazers. After a full day in the wild everyone is content to retire to their rooms by 10pm, where, despite the efforts of an enthusiastic pine marten, we all sleep like logs.
After hot breakfast and coffee by the wood stove, we pack our things to be shuttled out to the parking lot. You really don’t need to bring a lot for a trip like this, just warm layers for the outdoors, and cozy comforts for the lodge. Our final morning of sledding explores more of the surrounding terrain, crossing dense treeline, meandering forest roads, beautiful tree-tunnels and rocky ridges. We pass a few other groups, and I confidently use hand signals to display how many riders are behind me. The 50 km/hr speed limit is now easy to maintain, a sign of just how far I’ve come in the last couple days. Some folks in my group prefer the technical trails, with their tight bends and narrow curves. I prefer speeding across the frozen lakes, especially Big Mink Lake, where I really cut loose. Spring is approaching, and slush is starting to thaw in some spots on the lake. It’s a reminder of the seasonality of snowmobiling, and how this snow-covered landscape will soon transform into a paradise for canoeists and hikers. We change out of our outdoor gear and gather at the top of the lodge’s access road for the snowmobile pick-up, exactly on schedule. I bid farewell to my new friends, promising to stay in touch.
One moment I was part of a chain of riders, roaring my sled through a stand of tamarack trees, feeling the fresh air, snow and power. The next I’m driving a small rental car, heading south to Toronto. It’s an acute snap back to reality, accompanied by a sense of accomplishment. Any time spent off-grid in the wilderness is time well spent. Add snowmobiles, camaraderie and the thrill of powersport, and you’ve got a true Canadian bucket list adventure.
