July 2 at 6 a.m., canoe loaded to leave camp 11.
Fireplace 1 at camp 11, near the lee shore. The "nook" is visible under the pine tree five metres from the fireplace, surrounded by sheltering spruce.
Fireplace 3, the newest one, in front of where the Tarp shelter stood at camp 11.
The campsite after taking down the Tarp shelter.
The tent site at camp 11 after packing the tent.
The dark sky at 6 a.m. sure looks like more rain.
Saying goodbye to the gulls as I canoe past their shoal. Two gulls stand on top of the rock where their nests are, completely exposed to the elements. There are four mergansers on the rock at the edge of the water on the right side.
Looking back at camp 11 island and the gull shoal. To the left of the island is the mainland burned in the forest fire of 2010.
Heading down the big lake.
After four km travel to check out the target cabin, I canoe 1-1/2 km farther to the fishing lodge to see if Brian and Candy have opened for the season despite COVID-19. Yay! ... they are there and Brian provides me with a motorboat after showing me how to use it. We load my gear and canoe on the boat and I return to the log cabin to set up camp 12. At the top of the photo above is more evidence of the forest fire ravaged landscape.
The log cabin has seen better days, but appears to be a dry shelter and there is a wood stove. Yay! Later the roof proves its worth, shedding rain well except for a small leak around the chimney. In their absence I give thanks to the owners, Bowman and Brady.
As most of this large lake, the area was burned in 2010, and there is no moss to store my butter. A hole dug in the sandy soil in the shaded corner of the cabin provides a "fridge" for the coolers. I pull the smaller motorboat over top of the hole to provide extra shade and some protection from bears.
Behind the cabin I dig a firepit for cooking. The pots contain boiled water, keeping warm. The open pot with boiling water is ready to add a supper dish. The big motorboat serves as a table for cooking supplies, and to store underneath, dry birch bark tinder and kindling.
The cabin has a kitchen table and chairs, so nice to sit in a full size chair. I use newspaper to cover the table to shield it from my pots and pans.
Because the cabin has many holes in the walls it is not bug proof, so I erect the inner tent inside the cabin for sleeping. [I once tried to sleep in a cabin where the door did not seal well and I killed hundreds of mosquitoes through the night, getting very little sleep; it was a miserable experience, the buggers waiting to attack in the darkness, the buzzing driving me crazy.]
Yay! again ... I erect a clothesline to dry my sleep gear and clothes, putting the stove to good use. A big thanks to Brian for helping to get the stove to work; he spotted the built-in stove damper at the back of the stove (in addition to the stovepipe damper).
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Summary:
Set up camp at an old log cabin (tent erected inside), with a wood stove, a place to dry sleep gear and clothing and to store all my gear. Obtain a motorboat due to the kindness of Brian and Candy so I can commute in order to cut portages to the target river. More heavy rain. Distance travelled seven km (four km to cabin, then 1-1/2 km to fishing lodge and return to cabin).
July 2:
Up by 3:45 a.m., I leave camp 11 soon after 6 a.m. without breakfast. The sky is very dark and cloudy with a moderate side wind so I want to get to the next camp early in case it rains or a strong wind rises. Canoeing the four km to the old log cabin, I stop briefly to see if occupied. There is no boat on shore and there are two aluminum motorboats parked behind the cabin so I am confident no one is home. A good sign is the chimney stack out of the roof so am hopeful there is a wood stove. The windows are boarded so cannot see inside. Canoeing on to the fishing lodge 1-1/2 km further down the lake, there is obviously someone here as the motorboats are in the water at the dock and gear set up for guests. Landing, I find the owners Brian and Candy who I first met in 2018 when I ran out of time to cut the portages I plan on doing now. They are not able to have foreign guests this year because of COVID-19 but have had Canadian clients. They are booked for the next while. After explaining what happened to my canvas Tent (and loss of grub to two bears), I make arrangements to use a motorboat so that I can travel back and forth to cut portages to the target river. I will stay at the old log cabin so that I have a place to dry clothes and sleep gear. The owners have visited this year, the groundcover around the cabin tramped down; they will not be back until September. Brian and I load my gear into the boat and tie down the canoe laid over top so I can return to the cabin and set up camp at 10:30 a.m.. When I get to the cabin, my stomach is growling and I really want to eat but there are some chores to do first. Unloading the canoe, I carry all the gear into the cabin. Searching the surrounding bush, there is no moss to bury the coolers containing butter, because the entire area around the lake was burned extensively in 2010. So I dig a hole in the sandy soil at the shady corner of the cabin for the coolers, then drag the small aluminum motorboat across the hole to help protect it from the sun and bears. The sun is shining through the clouds and there is an onshore brisk wind so I string a clothesline across the clearing near shore. After hanging up all the sleep gear (two pairs of heavy socks, hat, long shirt, chair towel, bedsheet) the 15 metre line is full. Now sweat-soaked, I have a very welcome cool bath at the shallow lake shore which has a sandy footing far enough out to duck under the surface. Finally, I eat my first meal of the day, in the cabin, sitting in a full-sized chair at a real table, a luxury. Brunch consists of LifeStraw® water, a mint, 1/4 cinnamon bannock, cheese, almonds, two protein bars, a package of mixed nuts that Brian gave me, gum. The very strong wind brings in lots of fresh air through the half open door (as far open as it will go) and the bugs are not too bad. Luckily the window in the kitchen area has a hinged plywood shutter that is easy to open to provide good light. Next I tidy my gear which was a bit strewn about in the cabin when I got sleep gear and clothing out to hang outside with no delay; I hate having any kind of a mess, and that is a way to lose something. Because the cabin is not bug proof, with many holes for mosquitoes, I consider erecting the tent outside. However, the cabin's main room is large enough to put up the inner tent for sleeping and still leave lots of space. Then it is time to dig a firepit behind the cabin in a sheltered spot, gather firewood (not plentiful here) and put the four pots on to boil water. Temperature reaches 20°C midday; a thunderstorm slowly moves through at 4 p.m. dumping rain, and then again at 5:30 p.m. when I get a bit wet finishing supper dishes. There are many fireweed plants growing in the yard, and I pick some for supper along the cabin beside the door under a small overhang during the rainstorm. Thankfully the roof does not leak except around the chimney pipe, where it steadily drips in the heavy rain. When I heard the first thunder in the distance, I brought in the items from the outside clothesline. Using a tarp shelter rope, I set up a clothesline in the cabin to hang my damp outer clothes, and where I will hang my sleepgear in the morning to dry while I am away. I have tidied the bachelor cabin a bit, but it definitely needs much more, so that is on my to-do list. After supper, I sit at the table in moccasins and (mostly) clean "sweats" (my canvas Tent cotton outfit of sweat pants, short shirt, undershorts, socks). It is a bit cool with the door open, 17°C in the cabin, but feels good. I update my journal, do a puzzle, calculate the distance to the target portage (11 km), plan what to take tomorrow (the rain gods willing). The list of gear to take to cut the portages includes: canoe (which will remain there along with two painters, two paddles), my bailer, Rubber Pack (including full Lunch Bag, aluminum pot), Canoe Pack (to carry Tool Bag, medium tarp, tarp ropes, gun in gun case, one canteen); the motorboat includes a PFD, two paddles, bailer, sponge. I find it beneficial to write a list in my journal to minimize the risk of forgetting something. Not sure how long it will take me to travel the 11 km in the motorboat, but will be much faster than the three to four hours by canoe, which is not doable twice a day. I am thankful to Brian for letting me use a motorboat; he has also offered to transport me and my gear to the portage when I have finished cutting the two trails that I estimate will take at least seven days of work. Brian and Candy will be at their lodge for another month, and I really appreciate their kindness. Before getting into bed at 8:30 p.m., I close the shutter and door; I will not chance a bear breaking the window on my watch. There is a bear trail along the lake beside the cabin. [Bears are curious, especially if human habituated which I always assume to be the case near a cabin. I have been in a cabin before when a bear investigated by standing up, paws on the window, while I was eating supper, sitting beneath the window; another time when a bear noisily climbed on the roof while I was sleeping, all a bit unnerving.] With door and shutter closed, the light source is gone, so I ignite a candle as I would in the canvas Tent.
Laying in bed before sleep overtakes I think about my decision to stay in the cabin - relieved to have a dry place to hang clothes and bedding, to store my gear out of the now heavy rain, to have a level flat floor for my sleep gear; a good choice in the absence of my canvas Tent. I replay the dueling internal discussions I had before asking about the possibility of using a motorboat - with the weather continuing as it has been since I started my trip, the boat will allow me to use the cabin as a refuge while cutting portages to the river I first thought to go to in 2018; overall I think another good choice. There are serious counter arguments to staying though. Because of the loss of grub I maybe should have cut my losses and returned back on the same inbound route, as I did on the previous occasion when I ran out of time upon seeing the extent of trail cutting required. I admit I am biased against having to retreat yet again. Now I have enough time and food to at least make it to the river, and the river gods willing, make it down to the Churchill River as planned; however, that depends on the river being navigable without extensive clearing of down timber that may have razed that country in 2010, as it did here. Ever optimistic, I hope that once I reach the river it will be a relatively easy run downstream. Above all, happy with my choices, I give thanks for the kindness of Brian and Candy; life is good.