Central Saskatchewan 2021 Camp 21 (Jul 23 - 26)

July 23, 05:16 at camp 20, sunrise through thick smoke.


05:17, almost ready to leave camp 20, smoke haze evident, canoe not covered to go the ½ km to the 50 metre waterfall portage.  It is the fourth major rapids, listed as class 6.


 

Most of the gear carried down the steep rock slope, waiting for the barrels to be lugged to the canoe when ready to be loaded, not wanting to risk them rolling into the water.

The canoe on its way down the slope, no footing to safely carry it.

After trying to tether the canoe along the rock shore, I settle on having to load it from the stern, tied to a large rock carried from up the hill.

With only one rope painter securing the canoe, I do not bother covering the load with a tarp.




07:11, looking back upstream to the falls.  In the first photo is seen the small falls which separates the portage on its right from the main cataract.  At the extreme right there is a tiny falls flowing through the trees running into the lake beside the portage.  In between the small and large falls is the shore where I caught most of the walleye, plus the monster pike that I released.  The bottom photo shows the area to the left of the falls where I caught the largest walleye, plus three large pike also released.


08:14, view down the fifth major rapids, class 3+, after walking through the bush from the 400 metre portage to check if I could make my way down with the canoe.  There is a 1.5 metre ledge with large boulders to its left with no way of wading to or carrying past, though the rapids are runnable below, and wadable most of the way above.



Camp 21, just off the 400 metre portage at the 300 metre mark, having only travelled three km, but stopping because of steady very welcome rain, though smoke haze and smell still present.



The canoe is parked beside the trail, 30 metres away from camp.



Access to my water supply, 18 inches deep in the rapids at shoreline, 30 metres distant from camp.  There is a path of sorts minimally cleared through the grass and shrubs.


As usual along shorelines, especially at rapids, there is a bear trail (in the photo not well demarcated through the overhanging plant cover).

A bear tore apart the rotting log in search of ant pupae and larvae to eat.


There is good walleye fishing from the canoe just below the rapids, but I paddle ½ km downstream to the bare rock face just above a small set of rapids to fillet them.  These photos are taken on July 26, a gorgeous sunny day with white cumulus in a blue sky, smoke blown away.

The view back to the rapids at camp 21.



The canoe tied to a bunch of grass and small brush while I clean the fish and then have a bath.



In a moment of carelessness, I slice my thumb while filleting fish.  Filleting knives must be sharp to function!  The wound bleeds well, then is dressed with Polysporin antibiotic ointment and a fingertip bandage wrapped with waterproof tape.  The latter stands up to repeated abuse and water immersion for a week before requiring changing to last another week before the cut heals well.



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Summary:
A view from downstream of the beautiful waterfall.  A welcome reprieve from smoke, five hour rainstorm and cool weather leads to use of stove.  Good walleye fishing at rapids.  Slice my thumb with filleting knife.  Steep 50 metre portage past the falls.  Stopping because of rain after travelling three km, camp 21 is located at the 300 metre mark of a 400 metre portage around the fifth major rapids, class 3+.


July 23:
Up before the alarm at the new time 03:30; 03:00 is now too dark as summer progresses.  Last night there was loud thunder and bright flashes of lightning with heavy rain for at least two hours.  Everything will be soaking wet, but I pack to leave anyway; if I decide to stay, I will unpack.  There is a ruby-red ball of sun due to smoke but lots of clear sky.  After breakfast, as I paddle to the falls, the wind is from the side but soon shifts to a strong headwind.  The last half of the 50 metre portage is very steep approaching 60°, a bare rock face, slippery when wet like now.  Carrying gear as usual with a load on top of what is on my back, it is too dangerous to try to walk down the steepest part fully loaded, so I offload each upper pack and slide it down the slope.  All that gear is piled close to shore on some grass beside thick brush.  Next I carry the canoe to the top but also slide it down.  Slipping the canoe into the water, I try parking it parallel to shore but there is nowhere to anchor it at both ends.  The second spot, I can tie the canoe, but the shore is too steep for loading safely.  Finally I give in to placing the canoe fully in the water, perpendicular to shore, carrying two big stones from above to tie the stern.  In this position I have to carry loads one at a time from stern to bow, being careful to keep my centre of gravity low and balance well so as not to tip, exiting back to shore hanging on to gunwales to steady the canoe.  I only carry one item at a time, having ending up in the drink once before by not following that rule, luckily in shallow water with a sandy bottom.  Falling here would be dangerous with the rock strewn bottom and steep rock face beside the canoe.  I also place one pack underneath the rear thwart to help steady the canoe as I load the bow first.  The top load has to be secured with rubber ropes and bungee cords, fastened as I finish loading each section of the canoe.  I do not bother covering with a tarp because that would be harder to do with the bow not tied.  I fetch the barrels one at a time from above and carry without harness down the slope into the canoe because I do not want to risk setting a barrel down on shore to then roll into the lake.

Paddling into the current below the falls, I move into the eddy behind a large boulder to look back at the setting, a beautiful one indeed.  Moving on to the next major rapids, the fifth from where I first started, after going through some small rapids, I stop at the 400 metre portage by 08:00.  From the portage landing I think that perhaps I can line and/or canoe down, as the head of the rapids appears shallow and calm.  (On return home I discover it is listed as a class 3+ rapid with a 1.5 metre ledge.)  So before unloading, I walk the trail, overhung with very wet brush and undergrowth, to check the river, my pants getting quite wet.  At the downstream end of the trail I cannot see any of the rapids.  So I walk back upstream along the river, and it seems wadeable with the last part of the deeper rapids canoeable and I am feeling optimistic.  But when I get closer to the upper end, there is an obstacle, a narrow rapid that drops over a ledge, a mini-falls.  There is no way around this section as the rocks and boulders at the side do not carry much water.  Rainfall starts, light and steady, nice and needed, the kind that makes you wet if it continues (and it does for at least five hours).  I am already wet toe to upper thigh from the underbrush as I investigated the rapids.  My boots get even wetter when I make my way across rocks and boulders to view the ledge.  As it looks to be settling into a continuous rain, I decide to set up camp even though I have only gone three km.  The last stretch of brush along the river above the ledge is very thick so I walk out to the trail through thick undergrowth of grass which includes many tall fireweed plants in bloom under the canopy of tall poplar trees.  There are lots of blueberry plants but have not seen berries, even green ones.  At least the undergrowth only gets my lower body wet as opposed to the brush which would soak my upper as well.

Unloading, I store all the wettable gear beneath the overturned canoe at the upper landing, a small open grassy spot.  I carry all the gear the 300 metres down the trail to the spot where I camped once before in 2017.  The pretty site is a somewhat open area surrounded by small and large scattered poplar with some pine, birch, alder and spruce trees thicker next to the river.  Camp is about 30 metres off the trail and 30 metres from the river.  With the first carry I erect the Tarp shelter to store camp gear underneath, having to splice multiple ropes together to tether the bottom of the Tarp to a distant tree.  The three barrels are carried last, then the canoe to lay beside the trail, with some gear underneath, at the entrance path to camp.  Deciding where and how to situate the canvas Tent, I walk to the thicker trees along the river to fell two tall spruce for vertical and side poles plus boughs for the doorway.  When the Tent is up, I haul some moss to fill holes before laying the floor tarps.  With gear in Tent, I need sand or soil for the stove.  The ground all through the bush along the portage consists of moss-covered rocks and boulders from the time eons ago when it was all beneath water.  So I have to walk 30 metres to the trail and 100 more to the lower landing which is water-laden soil.  Using the laundry pail, I carry two full pails of the top sod-like soil and humus layer, cut out with the shovel, which I turn upside down for the stove base.  Underlying the sod is wet sand of which I carry a half pail to cover the top of the sod and to layer inside the stove.  Half pail is more than heavy enough to carry the 130 metres to the Tent.  Sawing some stovewood from a few dry spruce poles, wet on the outside of course, and splitting one piece for kindling, with birchbark cylinders from the small copse of spruce and pine beside the Tent, the stove starts with no problem.  I fetch and saw more stovewood poles, mostly old standing dead poplar, not ideal as it burns too quickly with much ash, but all that is readily available all along the trail and river.  Next I fetch water from the edge of the river where there is a spot about 18 inches deep, having to walk through the soaked undergrowth and brush.  Finally I can remove some of my wet outer clothes to hang over the stove to start drying.  I find and saw more stovewood so now I have a full pile inside next to the stove, and a slowly diminishing pile outside the door.  Fetching the felled spruce tops and boughs, I stack them on the ground in front of the Tent to cut later for the doorway and beside the stove.  Muttering to myself about the new bow saw blade "... it's cutting worse than the old one it replaced, binding terribly, having to gnaw my way around even a small stick, pathetic.  Blade veers off at an angle every time.  Aie!  The blade is universal fit facing either way, but I'll try reversing it later anyway.  Have had good luck with three Home Hardware Benchmark bow saws and many blades over the years.  Something has changed.  The new blade?  Aie!  More selling points for a new Japanese-made Silky saw like the one John is now using whose cuts impressed me on the trees he cleared from portage trails.  Have had my eye on the largest size but it's almost $200; John's is the next size down at a more reasonable price and he is happy with it."  Supper in the warm Tent with the stove on is finished by 18:00.  Lunch was eaten in the Tent at 13:30.  After supper, my hands are in dire need of soap and water even after rinsing in the river; they got dirty laying the sod for the stove.  The nails especially are filthy and I remark "Mrs Hunt, my grade 7 teacher wouldn't approve.  She did daily nail check of all students.  Probably not something that would go over well in the schoolroom today!"  19:35, temperature 15°C, the stove sure feels good, especially in the dampness.  It has not rained since 14:00, and I think there is lots of blue sky although with the tall trees cannot see well all round.  I tie the two barrels to spruce trees in the copse in front of the Tent.  My clothes all hanging to dry, I walk to the river wearing just my boots without insoles, plus belt with bear spray, to fetch more water and to rinse the soggy wet socks worn today.  I did not hang sleep gear to air, as I need the space for wet clothes.  My double-weight soggy boots sit by the stove on the woodpile to start drying.  Hopefully I can leave the stove on all night but may get too hot; the Tent is comfortable now but screen window and door are wide open and I am wearing no clothes.  Weary, tired and yawning, I close the door except for the bottom 12 inches.  In the fleece shell wearing pajamas by 20:30 I sleep well, stove on all night, adding wood several times.

Camp 21 is located at the 300 metre mark of a 400 metre portage around the fifth major rapids, class 3+, after travelling three km, stopped by a welcome five hour rainstorm.


July 24:
By 05:40, 13°C, stove still on, the sun, orange from smoke, is just rising through the trees as I eat breakfast with no clothes on while a bannock bakes.  In addition to mixing the bannock, I catch up on some other chores: journal entry, reverse the saw blade, sharpen axe, aliquot grub for next week.  Next week is also the start of the third month, the halfway point, so there are several extra items required.  The screen window and door are open.  Clothes are all dry, but boots still quite saturated and heavy.  It is cloudy with no smoke smell but some of the grey sky must be smoke.  By midmorning it is too hot in the Tent so using a cup of water I douse three stovewood sticks which I throw outside and then fully extinguish with bailer water.  18°C outside, eating lunch inside at 11:30, I decide to let the stove die.  However, at 11:45 there are a few drops of rain and five minutes later, it is very cloudy and thundering.  From my journal: "Pouring heavy rain!  Still coals in stove so add wood.  So ... maybe I do need to saw more stovewood.  Don't think I have to worry about rain coming in the window here; there is a sheltering spruce tree at rear where the Tent is tied.  Oh boy, if out in this rain would be soaked quickly!  Coming straight down.  Have to blow through damper to get the new wood burning.  Sure cooled off again."  By 12:45, 21°C, the heavy rain stops but light rainfall and thunder continue while I do more chores: fetch more stovewood poles, saw stovewood, pick salad (fireweed tops and flowers, a few blueberries and salsify flowers).  As thought, the reversed saw blade does not cut any better, still drawing off to the side even though the blade is as tight as possible; aie!  I plan to move on tomorrow and had thought to pack the stove, but now with the rain will leave it up, and may use it for supper although it may be too warm to remain on tonight.  Back in the Tent I revise my breakfast and lunch menus so there is more daily consistency, making it simpler and easier to remember, using the same items.  Because it is the halfway point, I get out a clean Tilley hat and store the dry dirty one.  By late afternoon, there is more thunder and strong wind gusts bringing heavy rain again lasting into the evening.  I certainly do not complain about rain after the heatwaves and smoke.  At 20:00 the rain stops and I check for messages ahead of tomorrow Sunday, figuring that Jeanette may have already sent a text; she has: "OK. No new fires 4u. No rain after Sun. Mid20s all wk. JH."  From my journal: "Now the dilemma.  Already packed tools and chair.  Have emptied pots of water, prepacked Kitchen Barrel.  Based on Jeanette's weather report, if it rains again tonight, will stay another day.  Would be helpful to dry both tents and to fish for walleye below the rapids.  In fact it does rain heavy during the night, so as promised, I will stay another day.  Shut off alarm.  Sleep well in between peeing and checking stove.  Large chunk of stovewood not burning well."


July 25:
Up by  04:30, 13°C, it is darker than usual due to dense cloud, gloomy with a misty rain.  Last night, I had to close the door to only leave a small space at the bottom, window still open.  The stove is burning slowly even with a mixture of pine with the poplar so before adding more I check the stove pipes to make sure they are clear enough.  Having prepacked yesterday I have to put water on to boil from the full bailer.  As usual though I still have the travel pot with potable water so I can mix bannock.  Taking twice as long to bake, I have hot bannock at 07:00, without butter tasting much better hot than cold.  Breakfast and lunch are the improved revised menu.  Before lunch I perform a number of chores including fixing the fireplace with more stones, fetching firewood to fry the walleye I hope to catch for supper, add moss to level the Tent floor.  After lunch, I walk to the upper end of the portage and also to the rapids near the ledge to find a place suitable for fishing.  From the landing I notice farther upstream two levelish places jutting into the river that might be suitable.  So I walk through the bush along a game trail right beside the high river shore.  The first location has no good access to the river, but the second, in the shape of a triangle about 100 metres from the landing, looks promising with some deep water and ready access for fishing.  I have pruners with me, so on the return I trim a trail back to the portage through the thick areas of brush.  After lunch in the Tent, I try fishing at the 'triangle' with no luck, fortunately not getting snagged as I cast to all quarters including right across the swiftly flowing river.  Thinking now to use the canoe below the rapids to fish, I carry it to the lower end of the portage along with gear but the light rain that started at the 'triangle' persists and is heavier.  I leave the canoe (with two paddles, PFD, sponge, moss, fish-bat stick) and retreat to the Tent to dry out, carrying Fishing Kit and Rubber Pack, after fetching more stovewood poles and sawing more stovewood.  The sun comes out so decide to paddle out to fish.  Thinking there might be a good pool, I paddle up the left side of the lower rapids, but it proves too shallow.  Crossing over to the other side I get only one nibble so go back to the other side just below the rapids near the portage.  After finding the 'sweet' spot, I catch two walleye (14 and 17 inches) a nice pan full.  Because of the current, the canoe floats downstream and I have to repeatedly paddle back to try again.  I remark that if I had waders I could fish near shore and not have the canoe drift downstream in the current.  Paddling about ½ km downstream, I land at a bare rockface to clean the fish and to bathe, a good spot for both.  The rock is dry in the sun but threatening clouds are approaching.  The first task is to fillet the fish after returning the fish gear to its kit.  In cleaning the fish, my left thumb in the wrong place, I slice the side near the tip.  From my journal: "Filleting knives are sharp!  I leave a trail of blood on the rock as I finish cleaning the fish, with no further injuries.  Now I wrap the thumb in a handkerchief and thankfully by the time I am ready to bathe the bleeding has mostly stopped.  Just try not to use that digit, a hard thing to do - not to do."  Always nervous about bears when leaving camp like today, I park the canoe (with paddles, painters, PFD, sponge) at the lower end of portage.  Everything okay at the Tent, the first task is to bandage the thumb.  The cut bled well and was rinsed thoroughly in river water (which itself can carry infectious bacteria, but unlikely compared to the fish itself).  Dressed with Polysporin antibiotic ointment and a fingertip bandage wrapped with waterproof tape, amazingly the bandage stands up to repeated abuse and water immersion for a week before requiring changing.  By 18:00 I am eating supper cooked at the fireplace ... mmm good!  Not sure if I should plan to stay another day, or if Jeanette's forecast will be true and there will be no rain tomorrow, I decide to prepack again but leave the stove on overnight.  After the on/off rain all day, it thunders and rains again after supper as I saw more stovewood underneath the Tarp shelter.  I write: "With the weather, decide to stay tomorrow after all.  Rain better than fire!  Better than heat wave!"  Falling asleep doing a puzzle, it is time for bed by 21:00, sleeping well.  A cold draft sees the door almost completely shut all night, window open.


July 26:
When I first wake by 04:00, it seems darker than usual so I think more cloud and rain.  Back to bed, I get up by 05:00, still dark, but when I go outside for first morning chores I see thick fog, and it is a cool 8°C.  No wonder the closed door and the heat of the stove felt so good.  So the sky is probably clear of heat-trapping clouds.  The dense fog hangs in the air until 08:00.  Undergrowth is soaking wet, making my jeans, socks and boots wet while I gather more stovewood poles, firewood and salad (mostly fireweed flowers); my lower clothes hang by the stove to dry while I eat lunch.  Mosquitoes gather outside the screen door all morning, some entering the Tent of course when I exit or enter.  I do not think there has been any rain since yesterday evening.  By noon, the sky clears, 20°C, sunny with white cumulus, a gorgeous day; Jeanette's weather forecast proves true.  After lunch I fish from the canoe to catch three walleye (13, 15, 17 inches) in the same spot as yesterday.  From my journal: "This time the wind pushes canoe against the current to remain quite stationary, not having to paddle much ... nice!  Probably only did six casts.  Paddle to the rock to clean.  Give thanks out loud as usual: Thanks for the fish for supper; will be a nice meal.  Thanks for the fireweed salad.  Thanks for the gorgeous day.  Thanks for the wind which helped me fish.  Thanks also for the rain of recent days, better than forest fire and heat waves."  Back at camp I set out the nylon tent, barrel harness, pail and Bug Tent to dry.  I pack the stove, fish gear and tools.  Under the canoe at shore I add the stove, pail and Bug Tent to the gear left there after fishing.  All the stovewood is removed from the Tent and stacked in the spruce copse nearby.  Emptying the stove embers in the fireplace makes it easy to start a fire which I keep going for supper.  After a scrumptious supper of walleye I finish prepacking, and to bed dressed in pajamas, Tent door and window closed, sleeping well all night in the fleece shell.