Wilson wakes me at 3:30 am at camp 2 on June 8, and it is quite light already. This time becomes my new norm for arising. Soon after departing, approaching the channel to the next lake, I reach the first sign of the large forest fire that ravaged the area last year and forced my evacuation.
From my journal: "I am making good time, until I start to wonder 'Where am I?'. Rounding a point, I assume I am in the next lake but something does not seem right. The sound of the falls where I last camped strengthens. Okay, perhaps the sound travels across the peninsula to the next lake. Canoeing farther, the shoreline seems familiar. Soon I realize that I have canoed back towards my start point this morning. Aie! 'Stupid, stupid ... lazy, lazy ... stupid, stupid. Aie, aie, aie!' My words exactly spoken out loud. Good thing nobody is with me. When I am on my own, nobody but me to blame. I took a 'shortcut' around an isle near the channel to the next lake and turned right after going through a different channel thinking I was now in the next lake. The 'lazy' is failing to look at the next map which had the point of the peninsula on it. But no, I thought I don't need to look, it's just a very small two or three km portion. Aie! I totally missed the narrow channel I needed to take and ended back where I started. Aie! A wasted 1-1/2 hours and six km ... and calm excellent canoeing ... making good time. Only funny now! So finally I make the next lake. But now I'm battling a strong headwind that holds till bedtime. Hence my sore neck. Just keep paddling, one stroke after the other and stay far enough from shore not to get blown in on boulders. The waves are bad in the more open stretches on this large lake. I ship a bit of water occasionally from a big periodic roller wave. Finally I am able to stop for lunch at 11:45 am."
The sun is bright and hot, so in addition to sunglasses and wide-brimmed Tilley hat, I don a bandana worn as a "hat scarf" to help shield my face and neck. After having several skin lesions due to sun exposure removed over the years, I have become quite faithful about covering up.
The spot where I land for a much needed rest and lunch. This is a very small island just where I am going to turn in a new direction and hopefully have some respite from the strong wind. There have been no good stopping places until now. Also, I want to get this far in case the wind gets even stronger, thinking that as I turn the corner on the large peninsula I have canoed around, the wind will be more in my favour.
As it turns out, canoeing down the next portion of the lake, the waves are even bigger and want to push me into shore. I suspect if I travel too far, the bush may have been burned making it harder to find a good campsite. Stopping twice along the way, I am unable to find a sheltered spot. The canoe gets bashed against the rocky shore when I land. At the second stop, I walk 100 metres down the shore and spy a likely area ahead. Just farther from that is lots of burn, so hopefully it will serve as a campsite. I know I have camped along this shore previously, but am not quite sure where the site is.
Yeah, finally I reach a good enough campsite at 2:30 pm, having travelled 12 km, plus an extra six km when I screwed up. I have camped at this site previously. I erect the tarp shelter with its back to the strong wind and the base right down on the ground secured with a large rock. The area under the tarp is nicely calm.
After camp is set up, it feels good to sit with a back rest. Weary, sore neck from hard paddling, made worse because I have not got hardened to the new exercise. Just down the shore is the burn from last year that straddled the peninsula, so I am thankful that I have found a campsite.
Directly at the lucky campsite are two rabbit feet, although unlucky for the snowshoe hare, obviously killed during the winter when it had its white pelage.
Winter moose droppings.
In order to make a "fridge" for the coolers, I chop a hole in a mossy area near shore, bound up with Labrador tea roots. The bottom of the hole contains cold water from the lake percolating through rocks.
My supper salad is birch leaves, spruce tree buds and Labrador tea flowers. Thanks to friends Harry and Petra for their donation of a delicious block of hard cheese, which serves as extra protein for the first while so that I am not obligated to fish twice a week until I get into better fishing territory. It also gives me a chance to adjust again to a routine of camp and canoe life.