Here is a post I've found from 1998:
December 8th, 1998.
I went camping in Algonquin this past weekend. I left Thursday and got back Sunday night. I feel quite refreshed and ready to tackle society and its crony minions once again. I saw three otters, two pheasants, several neat looking birds, and one dead snake. It rained one night, but a book and a very hot fire distracted me from that. Mew Lake is where I made base, about forty kilometres into the park.
Note for next time: bring less food. I was burning food to get rid of it. Note for next time: prepare food for quick and easy use. I was chopping onions and potatoes with a boning knife wearing socks over my hands in the cold drizzle. Have these items already diced up, as it will already be cold and I have no need to be worried about spoilage or browning.
Before I made it to Algonquin, I tried Arrowhead, and it was closed for the winter. Brilliant me. So I back-tracked to Gravenhurst, found an ex-Oakvillian named Blair whiling away his hours in a bar, staring off into nothingness. We proceeded to the Albion Bar. The establishment had hired two strippers, and we played pool, and drank beer. I felt bad for the strippers, the whole place is entirely seedy and about as backwater as you can get, and the 'gentleman' they gravitated towards, and who without a doubt probably had a business interest in their performance, looked like the Grim Reaper meets ZZ Top. I slept in my car that night, and left at seven the next morning to a more suitable location, Algonquin.