A History of Five Winds, and Connection to the Land
The following is a concise version of "Gibson River - Past and Present" by Michael Naughton written in 1992. Mike was the founder and visionary of Five Winds and eloquently describes the origins of the club and it's connection to the land.
In the quiet reaches of the Ontario wilderness, where the Gibson River meanders through the rugged bedrock of the Canadian Shield, lies a landscape that feels like a secret kept by time itself. To the members of Five Winds, this area is more than a destination; it is a spiritual home, a place where the scent of white pine and the sight of a turkey vulture soaring over hidden beaver ponds offer a "euphoric existence" far removed from the city’s struggle.
The story of Five Winds begins not with a meeting in a boardroom, but with the quiet dip of a kayak paddle. In the early 1960s, Mike Naughton and a small group of friends were exploring the MacDonald River in fibreglass kayaks. As they pushed through reeds over six feet high, they stumbled upon a small pond so serene that someone remarked, "It feels as if we are the first people ever to see it. We should come explore this area on skis next winter.”
That afternoon spark led to the first ski exploration in late February 1963. The pioneers - Joe Herwig, Brenda Köchlin, and Mike - wandered through a land that Mike described as "enchanting". These early days were defined by a sense of wonder so deep that every fresh vista was a breathtaking experience. Lunchtime campfires became a "Bacchanalian" ritual, often lasting nearly two hours as the group basked in the winter sun, their old-fashioned wood skis propped up in the snow, and for Mike, it became a happy obsession.
For several years, the group operated on an informal, "ad hoc" basis. Transportation from Toronto was a constant struggle—a "catch as catch can" arrangement that left the organizers at the mercy of those for whom time-keeping was anathema. By 1971, the need for a more organized approach led to the club's formal inception.
The first meeting was held at St. George’s Church on Duplex Avenue with about fifteen people. Finding the church too cold, the group famously adjourned to the Barmaid’s Arms on Yonge Street to complete their business. It was there, over successive Tuesdays from October to March, that the club’s philosophies were forged. Initially named the "Four Winds Touring Club," they discovered during incorporation in 1972 that the name was already in use. After three hours of weary discussion, they simply decided to "add a wind," becoming the Five Winds Touring Club.
As the club grew to nearly one hundred members, the focus shifted toward trail development. In 1973, work began in earnest on the Gibson River system. These early trails were not for the faint of heart. Mike recalled precipices so steep that skiers - refusing to remove their gear - would climb trees with their skis still on to bridge gaps in the terrain.
Mike, serving as the trail designer, often faced the mock "accusations of malignancy" from exhausted skiers who found large trees placed inconveniently at the bottom of steep runs. With characteristic dry wit, he would remind them that "it was God who put the trees there and not the trail designer". He viewed his role as a "thankless task," yet his labour resulted in the abandoned "tree-climbing" routes being replaced by a sophisticated network that eventually spanned nearly two hundred kilometres.
Mike’s leadership was marked by a profound respect for those who inhabited the Gibson River area before the club arrived. He saw Five Winds as only a small part of a much longer saga involving loggers, trappers, and the Mohawk Band (Wahta).
Mike spent time with local figures like Sid Commandant, a trapper whose knowledge was instrumental in naming the features on the club’s maps. Many of the trail names carry these historical echoes—like "Ripley Bay," named for a 19th-century logging family, or the "Vautier Trail," dedicated to Mel Vautier, a club member who was tragically lost at sea. For Mike, the wilderness was a place of "loneliness and that feeling of being in another time," and he felt it was the club’s duty to honour that history.
By the late 1970s, the club had transitioned from carpools to charter buses on Sundays. The trails themselves were the result of thousands of "man-weeks of blood and sweat and tears" provided entirely by club members without public grants.
By the 2010s, snowshoe groups were added as a way of expanding accessibility and reach for GTA outdoors enthusiasts into the winter wilderness.
Today, Five Winds maintains a system that allows intermediate skiers and snowshoers to enjoy the backcountry without the "alleged discomforts" of the past. Yet, the core mission remains unchanged: to preserve the magic and "infinite variety" of the Canadian Shield. Mike’s writings serve as both a history and a reminder that the land is the ultimate authority. He once noted that if you find yourself deep in the bush as shadows grow long and encounter a "square-faced old man" (a ghost of the land’s logging past), you should treat him with respect, for "he may know a lot more than you do about Gibson River".
Five Winds Backcountry Ski & Snowshoe Club stands as a testament to the vision of Mike and the early founders who were willing to "follow their noses" into the unknown. They created a space where one can still experience the "redolence that is neither scent nor sight nor feel"—the feeling of winter giving way to spring in a land undisturbed by man’s machinery.
As you explore the trails of "Empty Quarter" or navigate "Monk’s Path," you are walking through a living history. The club welcomes all who share this love for the land, asking only that they treat it with the same care and consideration that those early members did when they first saw those reeds on the McDonald River decades ago. In this corner of the world, the silence is not empty; it is a conversation with the founders and the wilderness they fought to share.