Early morning fog while breaking camp. I load the canoe just to go the short distance across the river to start the 650 metre portage.
The river below the 650 metre portage.
A bower of trees over the portage trail forces me to duck to get the canoe through.
At 12:30 pm I stop for a late lunch along the river shore in some tall grass. I had hoped for a bug-free rock face but the shores on both sides are low and tend to be difficult to get up over the brushy and boggy ground. The smoke from the small fire clears the blackflies and boils a pot of water. I wear a hat scarf all day, even on the river because of the bugs.
The only item of laundry left to dry is the jeans.
I feel sorry for these young flightless ducklings who try to stay ahead of the canoe for several kilometres, scooting sporadically down the river after I catch up to them. Some lag behind and are lost to the group. I hope they all gather together again. The mother plays injured to help lure me away, but her brood just keep heading downstream instead of getting off to the side.
This great blue heron flies ahead of me down the river, repeatedly landing and taking off for several kilometres until she finally veers up a creek. She flies over the ducklings several times.
I stop on the left where there is an established portage, 480 metres, which needs only minimal clearing by hand.
After walking the length of the portage trail, I canoe across the river to a small rock face to set up camp 34, eight km travelled including three portages, 650, 280 and 160 metres, and two 100 metre rapids run.
A shaded spot for lunch out of the direct sun.
To find a decent levelish tent site, I have to walk through very dense bush to the top of the hill, where I have to cut out a spot in the thick brush. Because it is raining, I get the required gear up to the top through the thickets, tormented by blackflies and mosquitoes. Later I cut a 70 metre trail to the tent.
There is a beaver canal right below the area where I make a stone fireplace on the exposed rock. The canoe just squeezes through the banks beside the canal. In order to provide a parking spot for the canoe, I cut out a lot of alder which I place over a big hole in the ground.
There is no moss for a "fridge", so I dig a hole for the coolers in the wet cool ground at the start of the canal, and cover with slabs of the muddy ground over a layer of alder poles.
As with the tent site, there is no open spot for the tarp shelter, so I spend an hour cutting out the brush and trees.
Two beavers spend quite a lot of time cruising on the river past my camp, splashing their tails and diving any time they spot my movement.
A recent moose track on the portage trail.
Dark clouds accompanied by thunder and rain keep rolling in, so I keep big wood on the fire. Surprisingly, I catch one walleye on my first cast, but no more fish of any sort above or below the rapids. The water in this river all the way down has been very brown with suspended silt. I figure I got a stray fish that left the lake and ended a long way from home.