Walking Willisville and Whitefish Falls

There is a bit of the wilderness in most Canadians.  A hotshot Toronto executive might not feel it every day, but when Canadians surround themselves with nature, there is a peace that settles in along with a wonder.  Whitefish Falls and Willisville are good reminders of that.  With about 300 permanent residents and breathtaking beauty, these two spots are just north of Manitoulin Island, just south of Espanola.  They are about a four and a half hour drive from Toronto, but a world apart.

What you notice most about Northern Ontario is the rock and the evergreens.  They surround you.  Those two components interact to cause most people to take a deep breath and really take it all in.  Couple that with the numerous lakes and you can understand the wonder Canadians hold for the north.  I had never seen wild blueberries before, although they are also a Northern Ontario phenomenon.  People stop along the highways and pick them, and they sell for between $15 and $25 per liter on the roadsides.  When Rory and I began climbing up the Willisville Lookout, they were everywhere.  With blueberries often come bears, but thankfully Rory's mere presence acts as a bear deterrent.

The view from the top of Willisville Lookout is everything you would want from the north.  Grand vistas and big sky; lakes and evergreens and rock; a sense of vastness that makes you as a human being feel small yet somehow content.  It is no wonder that the north inspired the Group of Seven to paint.  There is natural beauty literally everywhere you look, from the bright yellow mushroom growing beside the tree to the blueberries to the white rock face worn smooth over the years from the water to the trees that grow out of the rock.  Rory is my daughter Shannon's Bernese Mountain Dog, and she proved her mettle climbing up to the Lookout.  Willisville is not for the faint of heart.  You head straight up the rocks to the peak where you stand on yet more rocks to survey the bounty below.  A couple with a baby in a bjorn were heading up when I was heading down - they were the only other people I saw on the trail - and I was impressed with their sense of adventure with a baby strapped to their body.

The ChurchMouse Cafe was next on our agenda.  Homemade chicken soup and chicken salad on a sourdough baguette constituted lunch.  The owners bought the church and converted it into a charming cafe before COVID.  During COVID, they built three bunkies which currently rent for $65 to $100 per night.  Another thing to love about the north - most everything is affordable.  The bunkies are simple yet charming.  One of the owners brought Rory water, and when I asked about a hike to an old generating station, her husband suggested Heaven's Gate instead.

Heaven's Gate is a 40 kilometre hike through the LaCloche Mountains.  I only tackled about four kilometres of it, and would definitely return for the full experience.  You hike through beautiful forest, coming upon swamps and rivers and lakes, always surrounded by trees and rock.  I didn't see a soul there during my four kilometres.  It was peaceful, solitary, quiet and calm. 

En route to Heaven's Gate, and en route back, we came upon deer nonchalantly munching grass at the side of the road.  They were nonplussed by me and the dog, although Rory was intrigued by them.  Having lived in a city most of my life, I still marvel at the beauty of deer on the side of the road...perhaps because the deer bring us ever closer to that Canadian wilderness within.