Killarney Provincial Park: My Healing Place
All around my boat is water, sunlight glinting off the surface in a million places. It’s quiet — the kind of quiet where you can hear the drips from your paddle as you read the map. My friend Julia and I are in a canoe on Balsam Lake in Ontario’s Killarney Provincial Park in August. It’s her first portaging trip, and I am the guide — with a concussion.
It was not supposed to be like this. Julia, Jason, and I had planned this trip almost a year ago. I invited them so they could enjoy the same backcountry adventure I’d been doing for over 20 years. Neither had ever portaged before. Then, one month before departure, I was hit by a car.
The worst of my injuries? I could see words but couldn’t make sense of them. I had constant headaches, debilitating nausea, whiplash, piercing tinnitus, and a crushing lack of confidence. But I couldn’t let my friends do the trip alone. Jason had a solo pack boat, and Julia would have to manage the canoe by herself. Two days before shove-off, I decided to come along — without realizing this would become the best decision for my healing journey.
The Drive and Arrival
The eight-hour drive was hell. Motion sickness and headaches battered me, yet a small part of me knew I’d be better off in the bush. I longed for Killarney. When the gravel road led us to Johnnie Lake’s access point, it felt like a breath of fresh air. The thousands of trees, the vastness of the lake — optical medicine for my brain.
I had my map ready in a waterproof bag lashed to my daypack. The campsites were highlighted, and our goal was the interior of Killarney on Johnnie Lake for the night. Perhaps because map-reading was unaffected by my concussion, or perhaps because of the fresh lake air, I navigated perfectly.
The Portages Begin
The next day we paddled from Johnnie Lake to David Lake — a route not for the faint of heart. We single-carried everything on each portage, meaning each load went in one trip. For the first time in a month, I literally forgot I had a concussion. I felt like my old self again.
Until we reached the Bell Lake parking lot. The nausea, headache, and fatigue returned briefly. I forced myself to focus only on the trees and water. Once we were back on Bell Lake, I was fine again.
The navigation here is tricky. Bell Lake narrows toward the portage to Balsam Lake. It can truly feel like a wrong turn — shallow, reedy, quiet, almost like a dead-end street. Then the portage appeared like a guiding star. The short 20-meter trek to Balsam was a dream for my friends.
Balsam Lake and Healing
I’m known for planning aggressively ambitious portaging trips, often moving to a new campsite every night. This time, I had booked a site on a cute little island on Balsam Lake, giving us a chance to rest. As we stopped, I noticed silence.
Before the concussion, I had loud tinnitus — constant ringing in my ears. Here, immersed in nature, feeling at one with my surroundings, I heard only silence.
We enjoyed dinner by the fire, wildlife gliding past our site, a gorgeous sunset, a starry sky, and peaceful rest in our tents. No headache, no nausea — just wilderness bliss.
David Lake and Silver Peak
The portage to David Lake was difficult, especially after a few days of paddling and little sleep. But it was worth it. Five minutes into the lake, we came across a family of loons. They gave us space but allowed close enough to take photos. The white quartzite mountains made me question if we were even in Ontario. Silver Peak stood tall in the distance.
Navigation was perfect. Past experiences had left me disoriented on David Lake, but this time I found our site without issue. Later, Julia and I attempted a hike to Silver Peak. We underestimated the time and missed the summit, but it was still a fantastic adventure. Back at camp, we enjoyed another fireside dinner. Julia even taught me how to catch crayfish and feed crickets to funnel spiders — lessons that still stick with me today.
The Exit and Reflection
On our final day, we paddled the David to Johhnie route, and passed through stunning Clearsilver Lake. We made one wrong turn, thinking a hike was a portage, but instinct guided us back. Experienced navigators make mistakes; backtracking is often your friend.
I don’t know why I felt so much better during the trip, or why symptoms returned briefly in civilization, but this trip kickstarted my healing. Killarney Provincial Park became my healing place — and it’s still the one spot where I feel truly myself.
This trip also marked a turning point: my single-carry days are behind me, but that’s a lesson for another story.
If you want to read more about Killarney Provincial Park or browse gear rentals, check out Killarney Outfitters.