I’ve started referring to adventures into the unknown as “experiments”, because it can turn a failure into a success, because learning is the goal.
And if learning was the goal, our winter trip to Mantario was a big success. (Seems like adventure and challenge are common themes on Mantario trails, regardless of the season.)
This trip was years in the making, and in the days leading up to it I found myself filled with gratitude at the opportunity to join with a group of good people to venture out into this classic Manitoba adventure. The forecast was predicting warm temps for beginning of March, and a good blanket of snow for skiing. I’d researched gear, ski, and sled-pulling setups as best as possible, but the warm temps would prove a challenge for which I was ill-prepared.
Friday morning, after a cautious drive on ice-covered roads to the Whiteshell, eight of us set out across the appropriately-named BIG Whiteshell Lake.
The 20km snowshoe/ski was characterized by ice-coated snow making purchase on our skis difficult, and the swishing and scraping of sleds a relentless cacophony trailing behind us. We plodded along, learning the danger of narrow portage trails between lakes on skis (we ended up pulling off skis and walking to avoid risk), but overall enjoying the stillness of lakes and forest as we left civilization behind.
Here we witnessed the results of last summer’s forest fires. Many trees were left only as charred remains, but we also were surprised by all that had escaped destruction, and even all that had grown before the snow had fallen.
Crossing six lakes over five hours (Big Whiteshell, Ritchey, One, Two, Three, Mantario), we arrived at our weekend home, a rustic cabin on an island on the south end of Lake Mantario, near the Manitoba/Ontario border. Far from phone reception and internet, we turned off our devices and turned to simpler forms of entertainment – making a fire in the woodstove, cooking food, browsing the bookshelf, storytelling, and sitting in the sauna. And, of course, the mandatory polar plunge at the end of the dock.
Saturday we ate well, and explored some of the surrounding lakes by snowshoe. In the evening, rain and wet snow fell as temperatures hovered around freezing, promising a warm return trip Sunday.
On Sunday we learned more about the “unique characteristics” of snow as it responds to changing temperatures. Icy glaze gone, the snow was soft and slushy, making for a tough slog for snowshoeing. My wooden toboggan which had slid smoothly (albeit is noisily) across the ice before, now became a dead weight with no glide as it soaked in the mushy snow.
Quite honestly, this is when the “experiment” got hard, and where I learned about myself. I had no thought of quitting, but my spirits got low when the slog seemed endless. But snacks and camaraderie helped ease the burden, and a few sun-baked and snow-soaked hours later we were back on the shoreline, looking back on a weekend to remember.
Till next year, when we can add another experiment to our experience.
