A warming fire at camp 7, June 21 at 4:20 a.m.. Gear packed and canoe loaded before eating the usual cold breakfast when travelling.
Looking down the lake in the direction of the rapids I portaged three days ago.
The view at 4:25 a.m. in the direction where I will be headed next, followed by the same view at 5:40 a.m. as the rising sun burns mist off the lake.
The lake reflects a beautiful mirror image of fluffy white cumulus clouds as I head to the next portage, a long one, 1180 metres.
Fireweed plants near the portage trail. On a return trip after dropping off one carry, I pick two servings of fireweed tops salad to place in the cooler at the landing.
After the portage, heading for the next campsite on "Michael's island". (Michael, of the cottage where I left the Tent and stove, told me of this spot, an excellent location where I have camped before.)
Looking back in the direction taken from the long portage.
The last time I camped here was two years ago and the brush has grown enough that I have to clear it again in order to erect the tent. It is obvious that nobody has camped here since then.
Just inland past the tent, I clear brush and a few small trees to make room for the Tarp. It is sheltered here, but would not be safe to build a fire in the thick moss.
The fireplace has had four of the big stones overturned by a bear in search of the eggs and pupae of ants (good for humans too) who have a very large colony in the soil in front of the fireplace.
June 22, a gorgeous sunny day, perfect for drying my sleep gear.
June 21, supper for a big appetite, very welcome after the long portage - macaroni and cheese, hot water, a mint, "Birthday Cake" protein bar, fireweed salad picked beside the portage (but not too close where animal scat may contaminate).
June 22. The first place I sit in the shade becomes sunny, so move to a cooler spot after eating a hot cinnamon bannock breakfast.
Drying boots is usually incremental over several days, so I take advantage of any opportunity to loosen boot laces.
This island has a good patch of lingonberry plants, now in bloom; berries will not be available to eat for at least another month.
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Summary:
Canoe four extra km because of my stupid navigation mistake. Two scares with functionality of SPOT™ and gun. Beautiful weather for two days, everything dried out and I feel great. Distance travelled 14 km, including a 1.2 km portage with six loads.
June 21:
From my journal, written next day: "Up at 3 a.m., 10°C, clear sky, almost calm with a very light wind. Get tent and gear packed. Start small fire to take chill off and to warm water in the aluminum travel pot. [I have had this pot for many many years, bought when nobody shunned aluminum for cooking, even though the only thing you must not do is to cook something acidic in it like rhubarb, and then only if you want to have a really clean pot and throw out the rhubarb. It is battered and blackened by countless fires. Sometimes it is interesting to reflect on the fact that I have equipment quite old now, purchased as a teenager (a few years ago) all the way to brand new gear.] Pack canoe except for cover Tarp before breakfast - a mint, two protein bars, hot water, seeds, peanut butter, gum. After packing canoe, remember this is Sunday, would be a good place to check SAT phone. Unload Personal Pack for Writing Bag and SAT phone. Try at landing but not good reception, only one bar. Move a bit farther down shore to good reception. Text from Jeanette: 'OK. Wthr nice till thur. No fires. Tent stove to lodge. JH.' Good to hear Tent and stove taken to my vehicle. Michael must have been back to his cottage again already. Brings a very grateful smile to my face. Start canoeing by 6 a.m.. Going well but before long landmarks not matching map for the planned route. Soon realize I took a course to the wrong side of a very large island. Aie! [It is interesting that, as is common when 'lost', people, including me, usually try to justify landmarks to the map, trying to make where you are 'fit the map'.] Decide to continue all the way around for an extra four km. Aie! The point of the isle is slender and I thought I was ... nah! Just sloppy map reading! No excuse. Made the same stupid mistake I have made at least twice before over the years, putting away the first map cause I think I 'know' how to connect to the new map, after all just a short distance, in this case two km left on the old map. Aie! Stupid ... Barry! Then, thinking I do not have the map for the upper area of the big island, I 'wing' it and go a bit out of my way at the end of the island, cutting too far towards the upper end of lake (when in fact I must go to the side). Turns out on checking afterwards that I really do have the map for the other section of the island (turned inside on the very map I am using). Aie! [When planning the trip, I fold maps to fit large, and in some cases extra large, waterproof Ziploc® plastic bags. After creating a detailed numbered trip plan on paper, I also number the bags sequentially so I know the order of use. For maps that have the route continued on the inside fold, I indicate that on the bag too so I know when to turn the map inside-out. If a map is also used for the return trip, then that bag will have two sets of numbers, one number being much higher for later use. My contacts get a copy of the trip plan.] Get back on track and reach the long portage. Unload and take usual first load. Trail in good shape. Only need to bring bow saw back to cut out a down dead large 7" diameter pine that I pushed past with the load. Leave saw hanging on its trunk to retrieve with later load. On my return for another load, pick two small ziplocs of fireweed tops salad to place in the cooler at the landing. [I always carry four small Ziploc® bags in my Utility Belt Bag.] Continue portaging, hard sweaty work, a gradual long uphill climb for first part and short steep downhill to the next lake. When all six loads done, place canoe in water out of the way so I can have a small smoky fire for lunch to shoo blackflies. Weather good, mostly clear sunny with just a few white cumulus and light wind. Late lunch, mid-afternoon - a mint, 1/4 cinnamon bannock, cheese, almonds, two protein bars, gum, LifeStraw® water (finished one litre canteen water during portage). Was getting 'weak' and weary. Feels good to sit down, dry sweat a bit, boots loosened. Load up, no Tarp, and canoe the two km to 'Michael's Isle'. The campsite there as I left it in 2018; alders have grown up on tent site. Unload. Clear tent site (cut alders with pruner). Decide to orient tent a more level way than last time so cut down or dig up some previously cut brush. Use axe head to level better. Get tent up and gear inside. Unpack pots, get fire started to boil water. A bear has overturned the four large stones I had placed to form the fireplace against a big boulder. There is a massive ant colony covering a two metre diameter surface near the fireplace that attracted the bear; don't want to stand in one spot on its bare surface! [The bear having been here illustrates that they do swim to islands, so there is no guarantee of safety just because you are camped on an island.] 'My' firewood all here as I left it. Lay out sleep gear in tent. Get Tarp shelter up same spot as before but higher as is my routine now, so have to axe many dry lichen covered spruce branches and saw some spruce trees. Hungry and late but want to get all sweaty work done to have bath before supper. Get supper grub out, then have a superb bath. Thought I would be cold but am so sweaty and day warm but not too hot, 20°C, that it feels great. Supper - a mint, hot water, fireweed salad, 'Birthday Cake' protein bar, mac and cheese. [The macaroni and cheese 'serves four', but is just right for a hungry me.] Weary. Before bed, notice two bad things - SPOT™ light flashing orange, so change to new batteries and hope it will work okay tomorrow; notice front fluorescent gun sight missing so will check sighting tomorrow. Aie! In bed by 10:30 p.m.. Late! Sleep well, but dream lots. Travelled 14 km, instead of the 10 km more direct route to reach camp 8, including the 1180 metre portage."
June 22:
Sunny, clear, no clouds, 12°C rising to 23°C by midday. After breakfast of hot cinnamon bannock, I have a list of chores to do. I usually write a "To Do" list in my journal for the next day: check SPOT™ x2, check gun sighting, yesterday's journal entry, mark map, bandage split thumb skin, hang sleep gear outside, clear Tarp shelter more, store tinder and kindling under shelter, fetch firewood, add moss to front tent vestibule to cover loose soil, new toothbrush, clean all optical lens (eyeglasses, sunglasses, compass, camera). When I test shoot the .22LR it is still accurate; the bracket that holds the fluorescent rod front sight still serves as the sight satisfactorily. The "new technology" (more visible) is nice but not very robust in this environment of packing and portaging. The orange flashing of the SPOT™ when stored in the Utility Belt Bag since early morning yesterday had me worried. When I turned it on after installing new batteries last night in the tent, it still flashed orange which I have never seen before. This morning the SPOT™ worked fine. I think the "on" button got activated accidentally or I left it on. Now I have the device in two instead of just one medium Ziploc® bag and make sure it rests on top of all other items in the Utility Bag with buttons top side. The buttons are indented and hard to push but if resting against the right item could be activated I suppose. [The only batteries I use are lithium, which are long lasting, reportedly up to nine times the life of alkaline ones; I carry a full set of spare batteries, AA and AAA depending on the device (SPOT™, GPS, two flashlights, two headlamps) and use the batteries from season to season until they die.] It is nice to have two very nice days here so that everything is not just aired but is dried, including my sweaty boots; now I feel more human. My chair gets moved four times throughout the day to stay within shade. After supper and pre-packing to move on tomorrow, I sit near the lake shore in the shade in a nice cooling breeze that keeps bugs at bay. Just below me, water striders scoot along the surface. Dragonflies dart around me and I congratulate them on catching mosquitoes; they are amazing aerial acrobats, hovering in place, zooming up, down, backwards, sideways, like a helicopter with a brain. Sometimes they do a flypast close to my hat, even landing on it occasionally. A gorgeous evening. A good day.