Five Days, Two Wheels, One Wild Adventure Loop

Each summer since 2020, a rotating crew of friends – loosely stitched together through a WhatsApp group chat called KLRs Mostly – has gathered for a week of moto-camping. What began as a shared curiosity about backcountry in our backyard evolved into something quieter, more intentional: five days on dirt, four nights under stars, chasing solitude and connection in equal measure.

This year, we stayed closer to home. When Ride the Highlands began publishing its adventure routes – Gravel Crusher, Pick Axe, and Timber Trail – we spotted a line between them that hadn’t yet been drawn. The idea came easily: connect all three into one seamless off-road “Megaloop.” 

The plan took longer. Tracks were roughly scouted, campsites marked, chains lubed.

In late July, we met in Marmora, Ontario, with gear packed and tires aired down, ready to make it real.

The Long Way to Silver Lake

Every trip needs a good beginning. Ours came with French fries and vintage bikes at the Iron Rooster on Highway 7, a restaurant-museum that perfectly matched the tone of our ride: quirky, nostalgic, quietly proud.
From there, we followed the twist of Old Marmora Road past the Moira River and rolled into Tweed, where we wandered into North America’s smallest jailhouse (one cell, lots of lore). 

Then we headed towards Puzzle Lake and the first of two “California Roads” – bumpy and scenic and just technical enough for the newest ADV rider in our group, who tackled it all with an ever-growing smile.

A surprise bridge closure near Bob’s Lake kicked and pushed us onto the K&P Trail, then Crow Lake Road, which proved to be an unsung highlight of the day. We reached Silver Lake Provincial Park with enough daylight to enjoy a warm swim. 

We had ridden 200 km on backroads to go 94 km as the crow flies.

Valley Towns and Hidden Camps

On day two, the ride eased into a calmer rhythm, tracing the curves and quiet of the Ottawa Valley: quiet towns, shaded gravel, and too many roadside temptations to count. We skipped Woody’s Cycles outside Perth – arriving too early to grab our Gravel Crusher badge – and made up for it with falafel from Moe’s in Almonte and a stop at Blakeney Rapids, where the Mississippi carves through granite.

We transitioned off the published route at Lavant after tackling the second California Road and followed a line I’d pieced together through the North Frontenac Parklands. It led us to Arcol Road, which had been smoothed out by recent maintenance, though still rugged enough to remind us to keep our weight over the pegs.

The lakeside Crown land spot I’d scouted near Calabogie was already taken – a common reality when wild camping – but we found another just in time. 

Swans, Swamps, and a Stubborn Carb

Morning brought mist and motion. Somewhere approaching Griffith, we slowed to watch a pair of swans and their cygnets cross a pond. A small, unexpected pause in an otherwise forward-moving day.

In Wilno, the tavern was closed – no pierogies, no patch. Plan B became Vito’s in Barry’s Bay, where we toasted a birthday. From there our route toward the Timber Trail included a lesser-travelled rail trail that turned out to be more water than trail. My DRZ’s airbox filled with mud, and the carb protested with every twist of the throttle.

We turned back, found higher ground, and eventually reached Kingscote Lake in Algonquin Park just as the light began to fall and the temperature dropped. Our first fire of the trip felt well-earned.

Flow State and Forest Roads

Day four started cool and hopeful. My bike, still recovering from its mud bath, refused to idle but rather than pull the carb apart in the bush, I revved high  in first and second gear for 15 km along Kenneway Road and past the abandoned TTC streetcar. 

By the time we reached Haliburton, my engine was purring again. A splash of Sea Foam and a silent prayer worked wonders.

The Timber Trail offered longer stretches of pavement than we’d expected, but roads like Harburn and the ones around Eagle Lake made it worthwhile. We earned our badge at Eagle Lake Country Market – whose kombucha and sparkling water selection rivals anything you’d find in downtown Toronto – and continued on.

By the time we reached Fire Route 500, we were tired but not foolish. A quick scout convinced us to take a smoother gravel detour instead, tracing a path through White Lake and Galway Roads to a friend’s cabin near Apsley. We arrived to cold drinks, barbecued corn, and something rare in moto-camping: a real shower.

The Loop Closes, Slowly

Our final morning greeted us with a 6°C chill. We wiped the dew from our seats and set off for Cloyne via Hughes Landing Road, a 40 km ribbon of dirt along the south shore of Skootamatta Lake. Our final miles together started at Myers Cave Resort where we picked up our last badge. The Red Barn Zone food truck next door wasn’t open yet but we bookmarked it for next time.

After riding the rugged O’Donnell Road towards Flinton, some riders turned west to close the loop in Marmora. I peeled east. The WhatsApp thread buzzed with photos, gratitude, and early talk of next year.

The Good Dirt

We covered over 1,200 km and connected three official Ride the Highlands ADV loops into something entirely our own. We rode old trails, paused at local cafés, and visited towns that welcomed us with small surprises.

We’re grateful to the Ride the Highlands team – Kristin, Chris, and Bev – for their work making these roads accessible, safe, and fun (and for scouting their own version of a route that links the three loops – coming soon!). 

Their efforts allow folks like us to go farther, discover more, and return home full of good stories.

We’ll be back.