Welcome to GoXplore.Blustery Point
Posted 12th May 2010 at 04:09 AM by backpacker
Blustery Point
Well Pam and I went to the Point on Saturday. The wind was howling like nothing that we’ve seen since the time we hiked the park in the dead of winter and I was trying out my new backpack. The blizzard conditions had made it almost impossible to follow the trail. Now we have embarked on the barren West Beach. Early, on a Saturday morning… not a soul around. The frothy whitecaps stretched to the farthest reaches of our imagination making the lake appear unnaturally sinister. We pictured ourselves in a small craft being pitched up to the right and left between the monstrous swells. They are threatening to sink our sorry ship…plunging…pulling us down to Davy Jones Locker.
Did I mention that it was terribly windy? While on the beach we decided to take a little hike, so we put the wind on our back…(big mistake). It was inviting…urging us to plod on. This was easy. We followed the surf for about the length of a football field. Life is good.
Well it’s time to head back and the grumbling cold waves cascading onto the beach, just out of reach of our runners were threatening to douse our feet with the icy chill. The howling gale pressed against us relentlessly causing us to gasp for mere breath. Speech was not even attempted. We were ill prepared for this torture as a gust grabbed my hat, throwing it far into the tumultuous broth. Once back to the safety and comfort of our chariot we sighed in relief and just sat smiling, still conversing with our minds only. Love is grand.
Jim Bondy
Author of: Friday on the Trail
A book about our backpacking adventures in Ontario Canada
http://jimbondy.webs.com
effexus3@yahoo.com
Well Pam and I went to the Point on Saturday. The wind was howling like nothing that we’ve seen since the time we hiked the park in the dead of winter and I was trying out my new backpack. The blizzard conditions had made it almost impossible to follow the trail. Now we have embarked on the barren West Beach. Early, on a Saturday morning… not a soul around. The frothy whitecaps stretched to the farthest reaches of our imagination making the lake appear unnaturally sinister. We pictured ourselves in a small craft being pitched up to the right and left between the monstrous swells. They are threatening to sink our sorry ship…plunging…pulling us down to Davy Jones Locker.
Did I mention that it was terribly windy? While on the beach we decided to take a little hike, so we put the wind on our back…(big mistake). It was inviting…urging us to plod on. This was easy. We followed the surf for about the length of a football field. Life is good.
Well it’s time to head back and the grumbling cold waves cascading onto the beach, just out of reach of our runners were threatening to douse our feet with the icy chill. The howling gale pressed against us relentlessly causing us to gasp for mere breath. Speech was not even attempted. We were ill prepared for this torture as a gust grabbed my hat, throwing it far into the tumultuous broth. Once back to the safety and comfort of our chariot we sighed in relief and just sat smiling, still conversing with our minds only. Love is grand.
Jim Bondy
Author of: Friday on the Trail
A book about our backpacking adventures in Ontario Canada
http://jimbondy.webs.com
effexus3@yahoo.com
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