A Lesson in Resilience at Frontenac Provincial Park

There is a specific kind of internal monologue on trips that have you exert a lot of effort. That definitely happens on the trail for a backcountry winter camping trip. Usually, it occurs halfway up a "character building" hill when your lungs are burning, your legs are heavy, and you’re wondering exactly why you thought this was a good way to spend a weekend. 🤣

This past trip to Frontenac Provincial Park, Sleds and Stories 1, was a masterclass in that feeling. And it was a beautiful reminder of why we do it anyway. 💜

The Gravity of Gravity

The plan was simple: a dozen of us would sled into the Site 11 cluster, set up, and enjoy the quiet. We aimed to arrive in the early afternoon, and that went according to plan nicely.

But you never know when you’ll end up testing your resolve. The trail was packed down well, which is usually a blessing, it made the sleds "zippy".

I was noticeably slower, with two sleds. To make the steep hill manageable, I separated my sled train, and took one to the top of the hill. By the time I went back for the toboggan, the rest of the group was well ahead, out of sight, and beyond earshot.

Just before the bridge crossing the open water in front of the Kingsford dam, my toboggan decided to take a swim. In the blink of an eye, it fishtailed, slid sideways off the trail, plunged down a steep bank, and into the water. There was a bit of a lean to left of the hard packed snow at the part of the trail just before the bridge. This was enough to get the sled fishtailing, from there, the steep bank accelerated it rapidly.

My heart sank as I saw the back of the sled where my wood stove was strapped disappear under the water, and the rest following it. Because I was still in my harness, I was the only thing keeping the whole rig from sinking out of sight. What followed was a desperate, adrenaline-fueled tug-of-war. I was pulling with everything I had, trying to reach a nearby tree I could grab for leverage.

With heave after heave, I finally won. I dragged the sled back onto the trail. Because of how I’d had to pull toward the tree, backing away from the water, the sled was now pointing the wrong way, back toward the parking lot. I simply collapsed into the snow, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

Fortunately, my gear was packed in dry bags (some double-bagged). Aside from the sheer overexertion, no harm was done to my kit, though my nerves were certainly frayed. Two men passing by kindly helped me spin the heavy sled back around and guide it over the bridge. I thanked them multiple times, and then let them pass as they were much faster than me. It took a few minutes to let the adrenaline and shaking subside, and started the slow, steady plod toward camp.

The Strength of "We"

Exhaustion has a way of stripping away your ego. Climbed the next hill, and saw Anastasiya coming to meet me. She generously offered to help. My stubborn reflex was to wheeze out, "nah, I think I’ve got it." But she looked at me kindly and said firmly, "I came all this way back to help, don't make that be for nothing". I relented. She took my second sled, and the weight, both in my head, and on my body, lifted.

By the time I reached camp and saw Jackie, Cheryl, and Jen, I was moving on vapours. In my clumsy, tired state, I managed to catch one of Jen’s chimney guylines. The chimney crumpled with a sickening crunch. I felt terrible. You never want to be the reason someone else has a "project" to fix, but Jen was incredibly gracious.

After a bit of water and a snack, I started to feel human again.

Jackie approached, and asked about my SnowTrekker hot tent. Her curiosity, and watching her learn as she leant a hand was a highlight of the day. She’s a natural. Soon, she was doing most of the setup while I coached. As the tent was up, and stove was installed, my spirits were very much lifted.

There is a specific magic to a newly lit fire taking hold in a hot tent. The growing warmth seeps into your body. The tension in your shoulders after packing, driving, sledding, and setting up, finally starts to ease.

Cheryl managed to drill through the ice for water, saving us the long process of melting snow.

Soul Food

As the sun dipped, Frontenac gave us a gift: a sunset that bled from soft pink into an achingly beautiful red over the frozen lake.

That night, we gathered in the hot tent.

I was drawing a blank for what to make for dinners on this trip. I decided to pop into a grocery store and follow my nose in case of inspiration. I ended up with a steak and broccoli for one night, and cheese + potato + bacon pierogies the next. Each of us had different dinners in the independent but together vibe we often have for our trips.

As dinner wound up, Anastasiya surprised us with cinnamon buns, which might be the single best thing I’ve ever tasted after a day of hauling sleds.

We talked late into the night basking in the cosy warmth of the wood stove. We talked about gear, life, the annoyance of modern appliances that require subscriptions and break too soon. We dreamed of the trips we still want to take. Humaning together like this with authenticity, kindness, and mutual respect is the ultimate antidote to the grind of daily life. It’s soul food.

The Pivot

We had one logistical hiccup: Elana was arriving late, and and we didn't have a firm ETA. She didn’t have signal at the parking lot, so no way to reach us. She arrived after dark and, seeing the dark trail and the work ahead, wisely decided to sleep in her car. In the morning, she decided to head for home. So sorry to miss you Elana. 💜 😭

It turned out to be the right call.

The Wind

Overnight, the wind turned ferocious. The sound of the tents flapping was deafening. Most of us didn't sleep a wink, listening to the gales and then the torrential rain, wondering if our anchors would hold. They did, but by morning, the mood had shifted.

The wind was so strong it was actually "killing" the fire in my wood stove. It was pushing exhaust back down the chimney and choking out the flame. Between the exhaustion, the gusting erratic wind, and a forecast calling for a 16-degree temperature drop, we had a sober conversation.

We do this for fun. And when the "fun" starts to edge into "danger," it’s time to pivot. We decided to pack up a day early.

The Glide Out

The sled out was a study in contrasts. In the shelter of the woods, it was calm and dappled with sun, making us wonder if we’d made the right choice. But as soon as we hit the lake, the wind blasted us again, confirming our decision.

Wood is heavy, but fortunately, a used sled is light. Jackie, a total superstar, helped me haul my toboggan over that final hill and into the parking lot. She even seemed to enjoy feeling how well an HDPE sled glides though as she noted, gravity is still gravity.

We left earlier than planned, but we left with full hearts. I am incredibly fortunate to know these women. Winter camping isn't always about the miles covered or the nights spent under canvas; sometimes, it’s just about the strength found in the people you’re with.

Lessons Learned

I like to reflect on how things went, and strive to make each new trip or project just a bit better than the ones before. Here are my thoughts on a few things we could have dialled in a bit better this trip:

Toboggans can slide sideways easier than you think. Slow down and don’t be too proud to ask someone to help you stabilize it to get through a tricky section [HUMILITY, SKILL]
The melting snow meant my anchors didn’t work as well is past “dead man” anchors. I’ll try heaping up more slushy snow next time to see if that helps. 🤔 [SKILL]
Be firmer to agree upon a protocol for arrivals ahead of time. Plan for what happens if we don’t have signal [PLANNING]
I already knew about flat spots for tents, proximity to water, and fetch and it’s role in wind off of lakes. But I’ll place more emphasis on these for winter trips. [PLANNING]
When someone offers to help. Don’t be too proud to accept. It’s a gift to help someone. [HUMILITY]

6. I’m sad, because when the tent stakes gave way in the heavy wind and melting slushy snow, the tent sagged, and touched against the chimney pipe, which burned the canvas This was the second time this year one of my tents were damaged. I’ll need to get it repaired. 😭 [SKILL, GEAR REPAIR]
But it is a useful lesson learned for sure. I’ll be super careful to avoid this in the future.

Gear Geek

This section is the gear reflecting and daydreaming section. I love reflecting on how my gear worked, to evaluate if any improvements can be made.

The main thing on my mind from this trip is lightening my sled a bit. And reducing the volume so I can fit it all on a single toboggan, so I don’t need to train two sleds together.

I definitely need an elbow, or similar, at the end of the chimney pipe to manage wind. This would have made a huge difference this trip! [SMALL GEAR PURCHASE]
I need to repair my damper from my stainless steel stove. The handle/pin that attaches to the damper itself keeps disengaging. I suspect I need to replace the spring, and then it should hold properly again. [SMALL GEAR PURCHASE]
I will try my (larger) titanium stove to save 20 pounds on the sled. I’m not sure if it’s TOO BIG though, as it’s meant for my much bigger Mega Crew tent. If it is manageable for my 9.5x11 Basecamp, then it saves me from dreaming of a second titanium stove. Otherwise, a Large Boglands stove from Boreal Outdoor Innovations would be brilliant! 🤔 [SKILL]
I may consider getting a lighter tent than my SnowTrekker for sled trips. The Basecamp 9.5 x 11 is so good for 2 people sleeping, and 6 to 8 gathering in the tent. [BIG GEAR PURCHASE]
This trip ended early, so I didn’t get a chance to try my new ice chisel, also from Boreal Outdoor Innovations. That’s a bummer, because I have been excited to try it. I’ll make plans to try it closer to town. It is so well made. It’s another 13 pounds on the sled, so I hope it rocks as much as I think it will.

Trip Report: Sleds and Stories 1