June 21 at 4:30 a.m., first day of summer, the longest day of the year, red-tinged sun indicating forest fire smoke, but likely from a distant fire ... hopefully.
After breaking camp 6, I portage the three remaining loads the 330 metres to 'unnamed lake 10' and load the canoe.
Approaching the landing of the winter portage at the upper end of 'unnamed lake 10'.
I carry seven portage loads across the 900 metre trail from 'unnamed lake 10' to 'unnamed lake 11'. Note the horizontal pole trap set (snares inactivated).
My boots are coated with the yellow pollen from pine trees that covers grass and underbrush that I walk through.
A common loon on 'unnamed lake 11'. All the last small lakes have had waterfowl to greet me.
At the landing on 'unnamed lake 11', the white fur evidence of a snowshoe hare from the past winter that was probably a meal for a predator.
Landing at the upper end of 'unnamed lake 11' to carry the seven loads across the 1500 metre portage to 'unnamed lake 13'. (There is another lake that I call 'unnamed lake 12' nearby.) As I canoe midway on 'unnamed lake 11', a snowshoe hare runs along the shore beside me before it disappears into the bush.
The 1500 metre portage starts up a steep 65 metre 45° slope, then appears to follow meandering game trails that skirt shallow "valleys", presumably created by glacier action. The sandy landscape is fairly level, covered with crunchy reindeer lichen and small and medium-sized jack pine, open and park-like.
After my first carry, weary and mindlessly walking back for another load, I mistakenly miss a sharp turn and continue straight on what proves to be another game trail which I figure out after about 50 metres when the trail narrows too much. Backtracking, at the junction, I place a "turn" signal of two sticks leaning against a tree, blocking the incorrect trail.
After crossing the 1500 metre portage to 'unnamed lake 13' with three loads, I am sweaty and weary. Having also portaged the two previous trails 330 and 900 metres, at 12 noon I announce out loud to the gods, even though it is clouding up like rain, "I have to break for lunch, dry out sweat-soaked clothes and rest! I gotta stop even if it's gonna rain." The sunshine is very hot, so I trim some lower branches of a spruce tree near shore so I can sit on the boughs against the trunk to get some shade. The fire is on the sandy soil near the lake to boil two pots of water, one for lunch and one for later. Having already drank 1½ canteens (1½ litres), another two litres with lunch is good. My sweat-soaked clothes (shirts, bandana, cotton gloves, handkerchief, hat, belt bags) are sitting in the sun on small willows and reindeer lichen to dry while I don a dry top. Oh man, that feels much better!
I resume portaging, continuing to give myself a pep talk at 1000 metres and then "closer" and "close" as I progress on the trail. Finally I decide to leave the last of seven loads, the canvas Tent/stove, at the lower end of the portage, to be carried as a post-portage tomorrow. On the sixth carry, it starts to rain, thunder and lightning and by the time I get to the landing the rain is quite heavy. Sheltering under a medium-size spruce for 15 minutes, the rain lessens so I decide to load the canoe and go to the next portage to find a campsite.
Leaving the two heavy barrels on shore for a post-portage tomorrow, plus the canvas Tent/stove at the lower end of the portage, I move on in the light rain. Canoeing around the bend there are no surprises this time, the lake continuing with open water. Keeping my eye out for a likely spot for the winter portage, I see what appears to be some marked trees so land on shore to investigate, but they prove to have been rubbed by moose. Continuing on, at the far corner of the lake, the trail is quite visible but there is no good campsite, so I paddle back to the small point jutting into the lake about 150 metres from the portage. Landing to check it out, it is a good site. Yeah ... I am really ready to stop, not only because of the rain making my clothes damp on the outside and the sweat doing the same on the inside, but I am weary. I have only travelled four km but that includes the three portages (400, 900, 1500 metres) to 'unnamed lake 13'. Back to the canoe, I paddle to a better landing. It is thundering and lightning, not a good time to be on the water.
At 5:15 p.m., I activate the SPOT™ Satellite Messenger. Usually this is done within 30 minutes of landing, but because of the storm I unload the canoe first, covering the gear with a tarp, and set up the tarp shelter. I had covered the load in the canoe with a tarp, so the gear was dry except for some dampness where it rested on the hull. Arising at 3 a.m., 14 hours ago, it has been a long day, but I have to finish setting up camp. One of the first chores I do in a new camp is to find a mossy spot to create a "fridge" for the two coolers containing butter, plus any salad or berries and open meat. The closest place is 150 metres to the portage trail.
The blackflies are very bothersome, so I dig a firepit and get a fire started. I can feel my ears sore from bites, and when I check in the compass mirror at bedtime, there are many bites on my face. Using the headnet had been an option, but I thought I was coping okay just using the hat scarf, plus the headnet is hotter. (Looking in a mirror is not something I do routinely, not combing my hair while camping, but I need to check my right eye after a small branch on the portage whipped into my face. My eye hurt and watered for an hour. Thankfully the eye looks okay, my upper cheek and eyebrow taking the brunt of the blow by the appearance of the bruising and marks.) After standing in the smoke, I can finally take off my hat scarf, blackfly free.
Next, I get the nylon tent up, then supper. Very tired, I am in bed by 8:30 p.m. ... oh it feels sooo good to lie down.
The campsite is on top of an embankment about 10 metres above the lake on a sandy level plateau area with open jack pine surrounded by dense bush of smaller pines. There is lots of down firewood, good spots for tent, firepit, tarp shelter, all close together.
In camp there is a down tree with some protruding branches in the shape of an animal face. Every time I would see it, especially when spotted in my peripheral vision, it would give me a start, and I would chuckle a bit and say something out loud to the effect of "You startled me!". Okay, maybe the first time I might have been more startled and swore, and not just "Aie!". I do not have the heart to saw the face off for firewood.
June 22, weather clears up overnight, but now there are some very menacing clouds, and by midday the temperature is 17℃ with light rain. After breakfast, I canoe back to the last portage to fetch the canvas Tent/stove and the two heavy barrels which I drop off at the start of the next portage. The 150 metre walk from camp to the portage is an easy one along the wide open shore juncture with bush, but I decide it will be better to keep the canoe at camp to use for taking gear to the portage. A fire at lunch feels good as I am sweaty and get chilled in the moderately strong wind.
Pre-portaging some gear before lunch to the next lake (paddles, painters, food pack) I finally get to see a big lake that is actually named. The portage seems long when carrying the load, but "only" 1600 metres when I step it off on the return trip. There is a long hill to climb loaded, and a long steep hill on the way back. This winter portage goes along and across eskers and like the other of Adam's trails is in excellent shape, very clean with only the occasional piece of broken equipment from snow machines. Blackflies are very bothersome so I wear the hat scarf all day. After lunch, deciding that the extra carry from camp to the portage is acceptable, I pre-portage the canoe. On the return trip, I throw off some fallen trees. Feeling possibly foolish for doing so, I also pre-portage the canvas Tent/stove. From my journal: "Will be ironic with the rain if I want to use the canvas Tent and stove and they now are at the next lake." It starts to rain harder when I get back to camp for supper ... an omen?
Because I have been so sweaty yesterday and today, I decide to have a bath after supper even though it is still raining on and off with a cool wind. Without a big roaring fire, I doubt I would have had the gumption to face the cold water. Standing at the fire, alternating front to back, I manage to mostly dry my jeans which got quite damp in the rain on the portages. To the nylon tent by 6 p.m., still quite chilled from the lake, I don my sleep clothes (cotton undershorts, long underwear, socks), an extra pair of heavy socks, down sweater and pull the fleece shell over my legs to the waist while sitting in the chair. Still quite cold, I cover my legs with the down sleeping bag. From my journal: "When I first got into the tent, after sorting and storing items in proper place, I dressed in PJ's except for the sock on left foot. (Doesn't everybody do it that way?) My left front foot has been sore since I started the trip. I didn't look closely and thought it was my long toe that was sore, perhaps from touching the front of boot. Today I looked and felt, and it's the inside side of my left big toe that is sore - from being rubbed against long toe? So wrapped big toe in Elastoplast bandage and then in white tape. Hopefully the padded bandage will ease the pressure. I soon put on the sock and then kept adding clothes. I probably look like a blue Michelin Man (blue is the colour of sleeping bag and down jacket)." (The Michelin® Man is the tubby mascot of the tire company, made of a pile of tires.) After updating my journal, reading some Reader's Digest© and doing some puzzles I get to bed by 8 p.m. finally warmed down to my toes. (I save Reader's Digest© to bring with me on camping trips, two per month, never reading them at home, so I am always about one year behind. Puzzles I bring include crosswords, sudokus and "variety" puzzles.) For some reason a red squirrel has been scolding for several minutes very near the tent, in the rain as I fall asleep.
Because I have been so sweaty yesterday and today, I decide to have a bath after supper even though it is still raining on and off with a cool wind. Without a big roaring fire, I doubt I would have had the gumption to face the cold water. Standing at the fire, alternating front to back, I manage to mostly dry my jeans which got quite damp in the rain on the portages. To the nylon tent by 6 p.m., still quite chilled from the lake, I don my sleep clothes (cotton undershorts, long underwear, socks), an extra pair of heavy socks, down sweater and pull the fleece shell over my legs to the waist while sitting in the chair. Still quite cold, I cover my legs with the down sleeping bag. From my journal: "When I first got into the tent, after sorting and storing items in proper place, I dressed in PJ's except for the sock on left foot. (Doesn't everybody do it that way?) My left front foot has been sore since I started the trip. I didn't look closely and thought it was my long toe that was sore, perhaps from touching the front of boot. Today I looked and felt, and it's the inside side of my left big toe that is sore - from being rubbed against long toe? So wrapped big toe in Elastoplast bandage and then in white tape. Hopefully the padded bandage will ease the pressure. I soon put on the sock and then kept adding clothes. I probably look like a blue Michelin Man (blue is the colour of sleeping bag and down jacket)." (The Michelin® Man is the tubby mascot of the tire company, made of a pile of tires.) After updating my journal, reading some Reader's Digest© and doing some puzzles I get to bed by 8 p.m. finally warmed down to my toes. (I save Reader's Digest© to bring with me on camping trips, two per month, never reading them at home, so I am always about one year behind. Puzzles I bring include crosswords, sudokus and "variety" puzzles.) For some reason a red squirrel has been scolding for several minutes very near the tent, in the rain as I fall asleep.