Of course D. was disappointed and I felt awful for bringing our adventure to an abrupt end, but all was not lost.
Although we didn't reach our final destination, the journey was fruitful:
We learned more about Thomson - D. about the mystery surrounding his death and I about his painting and relationship to the Group of Seven, i.e. that he died before they formed. I always thought he was part of the Group.
We discovered that there was a mill town called Mowat along Algonquin's Canoe Lake, once the largest town in the Park, that is now abandoned. Now we want to seek out its remains too.
We shared in adventure, discovery and learning. D. was practically giddy.
We hiked about six kilometers, which is more than we'd hiked in a long time.
Now that we have a better idea of where his grave is located, we have something to return to the next time we're up there.
So I guess it's true what they say, sometimes the journey can be just as good as the destination.
But the thrill of the hunt still beckons.
Next year will mark the 100th anniversary of Tom Thomson's mysterious death and both D. and I concur that finding that grave in the woods he loved so much would be a great way to commemorate it.
Assuming, of course, that the moose will let us get on our merry way.