05:17 sunrise June 11 affected by wildfire smoke.
Looking up the rapids from the end of the island of camp 3 at 05:17 the smoke in the air quite obvious. I have wading gear on but luckily manage with some effort to paddle up the rapids to the bay above, only possible because of low water levels.
06:33 above the island and headed to the next set of rapids.
Facing the narrows where the rapids exit.
Landing on boulders on the left side of the rapids. The load is strapped in but not covered as I hope to get above the next portage before doing so.
New wading shoes which have drain holes in the soles and insoles. Note my mistake of having the laces too long, corrected at the next camp; they could get trapped amongst stones in the river bed. As usual I wear neoprene socks inside the shoes to help protect feet from cold and injury.
For some of the deeper shoreline I line the canoe but mostly wade pulling from the side of the bow which I also use to buoy me up in deep spots as I walk to clamber from one boulder to another.
Looking back downstream after wading 100 metres up the rapids.
Breakfast with a small fire to shoo blackflies before heading up the next rapids. Where all the burned trees have fallen criss-crossed on the ground was once a good well shaded campsite.
The next rapids are the same length as the previous set but I have to venture farther out into the current for deep enough water. The canoe grounds twice on boulders forcing me to retreat to find a better route. I am fortunate not to have gone into deeper water than mid-thigh but only by boulder hopping while floating on the canoe bow.
Heading upriver towards the sharp turn to another set of rapids and falls, I land as far upstream as possible before unloading the canoe.
Optimistically hefting my first load I have to lower it after only 20 metres. The portage trail is impassable with fallen trees from the 2010 forest fire. I soon decide it would be easier to cut a new trail for much of the distance. It ends up being 200 metres long, 60 metres longer than the original trail, taking 1½ hours of saw, pruners and axe work.
The trail extends above the falls farther than usual because of low water.
Time is 13:47 and I am sweaty and hungry so head to the point ahead on the right to find a bit of shade for lunch and a rest. I am ready to stop at the first decent campsite but this is not one, very exposed with few larger trees.
Heading up the lake I check multiple spots for campsites, at least seven. One has fresh bear scat.
June 11 at 15:40 still canoeing up the lake against a strong crosswind. All shorelines and beyond have mainly small short trees except for a few clumps of mature spruce in muskeg unsuitable for camping. I finally reach a good enough site at 17:40.
The following photos at camp 4 are taken June 12 and later.
The lake viewed from camp 4, smoky conditions, 06:43 - 06:45 June 12.
When I land at the site for camp 4 late in the afternoon the best readily available somewhat level spot for the tent is on a spit of land close to the lake in an exposed location. I choose not to set up the Tarp shelter or build a fireplace.
The canoe parked very close to the tent.
The two heavy barrels are tied to trees beside the tent before heading to bed on June 11.
The above photo looks up the path to thick bush that becomes the site for the Tarp shelter.
The three photos below show the area now cleared for the Tarp.
Pathway cleared behind the Tarp shelter for ready access to water and providing a direct view of the lake.
Location for fireplace on stony ground needs minimal clearing.
The pile of green birch and alder trees cleared to make room for Tarp shelter, fireplace and path to tent and canoe.
A heap of dry firewood also cleared out of the way.
Looking up the hill littered with fire-killed down pine trees. There is scattered new growth of mostly birch from the sparse shallow debris on bare rock.
At the top of the hill there are pockets of spared jack pine growing in a shallow bed of moss and small brush such as Labrador tea and blueberry plants.
Short new growth pine trees with some scattered black spruce as far as the eye can see.
Filleted pike stored under damp moss for frying at supper with salad of Labrador tea flowers, willow leaves and spruce buds.
I take a variety of puzzles to do at meal times or when taking a break.
Strong winds with heavy rain confirm how exposed the tent site is. The canoe, anchored with the painters tied through the thwarts to trees, helps buffer against the wind.
Windbound some days, I clear a more sheltered site for the canvas Tent and stove.
The canoe now occupies the old nylon tent spot.
As soon as fish is filleted a gull often appears to retrieve any leavings if possible. Ideally I clean fish away from camp. In any case I throw the guts as far out into deeper water as possible to help minimize the risk of a bear visit. The downside for gulls is they are buoyant and cannot dive to fetch the food they smelled from afar.
Changing weather during my stay June 12 - 17.
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Summary:
A late night to bed after a long hard smoky hot sweaty day paddling to new camp 4; hungry, I eat tomorrow's breakfast for supper in the tent. In the morning I eat yesterday's supper food for breakfast. Distance paddled 11 km, including two extra km searching seven locations for a campsite. Portages include 150 metres at camp 3 and 200 metres around a falls after wading 100 metres each up two rapids. The last portage includes cutting a new trail taking 1½ hours. Big problem with bear spray falling from ineffective holster and discharging. Strong wind and rain for four days leads to sheltering nylon tent with canoe then clearing a spot and erecting canvas Tent and stove. Discover new improved way of starting fire in stove. Bald eagles harass Canada goose. Eagle and I simultaneously startle each other when it lands in water close by. New better way of supporting stove.
June 11:
Up to the alarm at 03:00, it is very smoky. Thankfully the Tent and Tarp are dry. I depart at 06:15 in good time after packing the canvas Tent and portaging gear 150 metres to the the head of the island. Donning wading gear in case I have to exit the canoe to wade and line, I am able to paddle up the main rapids on the left. Low water levels are my friend this morning. The wide rapids on the right are just a trickle. Having to paddle fast and hard for the last 50 metres, seeming to stand still, I finally make it into the bay above. Gambling that it will not rain I hope to get to the next portage without covering the load. My new fluorescent-green wading shoes work well as I wade and line up the next set of 100 metre rapids. The stones and boulders make for somewhat precarious footing so have to be careful where I step. I am fortunate in wading no deeper than just above knees but have lots of opportunity to go in up to my waist or higher but manage to boulder step successfully, balanced on the canoe bow. At two places I have to backtrack to move farther out towards river centre in order to navigate around shallow boulders. At both rapids I have paddled about 20 metres upstream before having to stop to wade beside the shores of stones and boulders. The first rapids I ascend on the left, the next on the opposite side. The challenge is similar to get up the next 100 metre rapids but have to wade farther to reach deep enough water to paddle. Each time I re-enter the canoe I hold one foot up over the water at a time to drain shoes and pants before stepping fully in; after sitting I use a sponge to mop up the water that followed me. A welcome stop for breakfast at a small bay requires a smoky fire to drive away pesky blackflies. Feeling better with a full belly, I move on to the next rapids below a set of falls where I stop the closest it is safe to do so. After tying up, I unload on the expansive bare rock shore, turning any wet-bottomed packs to dry. Also I change back to regular clothes and boots and lay out wading gear to drain. Optimistically hoisting the usual first load, in 20 metres I have to lower it to search and clear and cut the portage. Searching for the easiest route takes some back and forth walking to pick the best one. It takes 1½ hours to cut a mostly new trail after giving up on the old which has too many big fire-killed down trees. The path is now 200 metres long, 60 metres more than the original. Using hand tools the path of least resistance is usually the best one. In my younger days I would clear much less but even then after not doing a good enough job it was easy to trip up. At the upper end I must take a longer route to bypass the high water landing which is now too dry to float the canoe. I am hot and sweat-soaked. No mistake this time the canoe is carried the second load. It takes a second attempt to heft canoe over my shoulders but otherwise the carry goes well. Ready for lunch and even a campsite, I stop at the nearest promising point. It would do but is too exposed, with few trees, though enough to provide some shade while I eat. Pleased with my progress especially after having to cut the portage, it is 13:45. Moving on I stop at the bay where the winter trail used to exit, the one I checked before reaching camp 2. Walking up the steep hill I confirm that the winter portage was never cleared after the 2010 wildfire. There are only some surviving big spruce trees in the gully below. Otherwise the bush is regrowth pines, not much taller than me after 13 years. I stop at a total of six places to check for a campsite, mostly at spruce muskeg that escaped fire. Some spots with larger pines have steep terrain, mountain-like on one island. At a small peninsula I am hopeful as I walk near the shoreline and cut across back to the canoe. But drier ground is very uneven and thick with pines; it also has a well-defined bear trail and fresh bear scat. Approaching each spot I chant "Come on campsite, Come on campsite, ..." to no avail. It is very smoky and hot with an orange sun. I also paddle close to some possible sites to check without stopping. A favouring wind becomes a strong crosswind driving me dangerously close to some boulders as I investigate one location. Landing at another island my optimism soon fades as I walk through spruce bog where there are winter tracks and droppings all over of woodland caribou; it would be a hard luck camp at best with no fireplace.
Pushing on I see some bare rock shore with a stretch of surviving pines higher up inland. Getting closer it definitely appears worthy. Where I stop there is a bare area for the nylon tent, partly open and exposed, not enough level ground for the full base of the tent, but good enough. Farther inland at the base of some bare rock stretching uphill to the mature pines above there is room for a fireplace on fire-safe ground. Near that is a levelish patch of thick trees suitable for the Tarp shelter once cleared. From my journal: "I say out loud 'Yay ... come on campsite ... finally pays off!' This is the seventh place I stopped. Hot, smoky, orange ball of sun. A few distinct clouds now where earlier none to be seen. No fire or Tarp shelter tonight. 17:40 when I initiate the SPOT™, as usual started as soon as confirming this is camp for the night." Unloading the canoe, I place the two heavy barrels near some five metre tall spruce trees. I pull up the canoe to park on a patch of rock after clearing a few trees. Then I clear an area for the nylon tent, especially two heavy rotting logs and a patch of tall Labrador tea plants. Tent up, several stakes in shallow moss need stones to hold in place. Blackflies are bothersome, an unknown number of bites, but I do see two red blood spots on my hat band where they crawled to affect their damage. I place small gear in the tent through a short unzippered door space, large gear not needed in rear vestibule or under canoe and big gear required inside awaits me in the front vestibule. After clearing positions for the two heavy barrels beneath two spruce trees each, I tie them up. I will definitely be close enough in the tent to hear the attached bells if a bear tampers with the barrels. Before going to the tent at 19:30 I light a small fire on bare rock at water's edge to clear myself of blackflies. It is ironic that I start a fire to shoo blackflies in the presence of wildfire smoke in the air. After pushing the remaining fire into the lake with a stick I splash water from shore's edge with my hand onto the coals. Just before retiring I accidentally slip one boot and lower pant leg into the water! Aie! I toss in the bigger required gear and quickly enter the tent zipping the door behind me against any invading mosquitoes. I have been drinking lots of LifeStraw® water today and place a full container in the front vestibule against the door. Once inside it is obvious that one side of the floor is in a deep dip so all gear goes there. The centre is level enough for my bed. All clothes removed, hot and sweaty, I hang up the damp shirt and undershorts. Hungry, I eat tomorrow's breakfast for supper, drinking three sets of 500 mL of LifeStraw® water from the raw water container, topped up from the bailer in the front vestibule. I stand the container with LifeStraw® in one boot to prevent spilling ... just do not overfill the container! Leaning against the bottom of the overturned Rubber Pack, I am sitting in relative comfort on my kneeling pad overlaid with heavy shirt. After supper I lay out the bedding with sheet on top where I fall asleep with no clothes on, waking up later to don pyjamas and even later getting in the fleece shell. It is warm enough all night to not ever slip into the sleeping bag. Surprisingly the bed is level enough for a good rest. To bed at 21:50, a late night indeed, after a long hard smoky hot sweaty day. There is some distant thunder during the night but no rain.
Distance paddled today is 11 km, including two extra km searching seven locations for a campsite. Portages include 150 metres at camp 3 and 200 metres around a falls after wading 100 metres each up two rapids. The last portage includes cutting a new trail taking 1½ hours.
June 12:
After sleeping in I am hungry but need a fire to prepare breakfast. I build the fireplace with stones gathered above camp on the bare rock. Next I cut out a bunch of trees of all sizes and types (spruce, birch, pine) to make room for the Tarp shelter. Sitting under the Tarp, I eat a late breakfast at 10:15 of macaroni and cheese meant for yesterday's supper. From my journal: "Fire just about out. Sitting shirt open, sleeves up, no hat, life is good! Started out a little down about the difficulty I had and may continue to have finding a decent campsite. Once getting fire going and Tarp up feel much better." I erect the clothesline then hang bedding. As I fetch the bedding I notice at least one mosquito in the tent so prepare a mosquito coil to light upon returning bedding to the tent. The clothesline is stretched along the path from the tent to fireplace and Tarp shelter. Next I prune all the branches from the 20 spruce trees felled to make room for the tent and barrels yesterday; now I have a nice layer of spruce boughs under the Tarp shelter. To fetch water from the landing I have to step over the canoe's stern so cut a path behind the Tarp shelter as an alternate route to the lake. Lunch is also late at 14:15. There is a moderate north wind, cool even though 20°C, smoky, some cloud. Supper at 17:20 is under clearer blue skies half full of white cumulus still with the same cool wind so wear hat and bandana around my neck to keep warm. Happily smoke has disappeared. Nearby in the bush a gray jay murmurs quietly and a squirrel chatters; I wonder if the same ones I heard before getting up this morning. From my journal: "This small patch of larger trees was spared wildfire by a strip of muskeg along shore but mostly luck as the fire burned right up to and around it. Finding this camp was fortunate. Yesterday as searching I debated moving on versus turning back. I was decidedly in favour of the latter, but today it's the former. Came this far; can't give up yet. My concern is finding campsites. I think the whole area around the target river was extensively burned."
One big problem today affects the bear spray. Somewhere the safety clip came off and is lost. The underlying issue is the replacement belt holster new this year after the old one wore out. It does not have a Velcro® flap closure which I unfortunately overlooked when buying. Today while doing some regular activity the canister of bear spray fell out of the holster. The worst problem is that something I did while working caused the trigger to be depressed and a single pulse of spray released. In short order my lips were burning after I must have got some on my fingers before drinking water through the LifeStraw®.
From my journal: "Supper includes sardines in hot peppers which I hope doesn't upset my stomach. The can is one left over from last season, otherwise I just have plain sardines this year. If necessary I can take TUMS® or Tic Tacs® which I have carried for the first time. During long-COVID I used them for indigestion and heartburn, one of its side effects, but have not had to use any so far this trip ... yay!" Supper includes salad picked from the dry humus amongst fire stimulated pine, spruce, birch, willow above camp; I look for fireweed to no avail so settle for Labrador tea flowers, willow leaves and spruce buds. I also find a very little amount of birch bark from new trees which I stash under the Tarp along with some small dry branches for kindling. There is lots of dry wood near camp; bringing back some firewood when away from camp has always been something I do and results in a surprisingly large stockpile. By 19:20, doing a puzzle, mosquitoes are getting too bad. There were dozens of the buggers in the front tent vestibule this morning, the reason I lit a mosquito coil after returning bedding from clothesline before supper. Back in the tent I soon fall asleep. A cool evening, getting quite cold later, the wind picks up and changes direction to hit the front and side of tent, steadily blowing through the night forcing me to close the rear flaps. My exposed location may prove to be a problem. A small creature scurries back and forth along the tent a few times; at least the little ones do not usually cause a problem.
June 13:
Up by 05:00, it is a cold 6°C and I dress in two shirts, the heavy one first with the light damp one over top which proves to be much more comfortable. Hopefully the light shirt will finally dry. There is heavy drizzle-like fog with a moderate wind. Many flocks of north flying Canada geese fly low just overhead; maybe they like to be able to see the ground just like me. The shore around camp is quite shallow, the only deeper place being at the end of the point behind the tent where I unsuccessfully try fishing. I need three fish meals this week, four from then on. Taking the canoe out is necessary but will be a pain because of the wind; I will have to paddle against the wind to return so better make sure not to go too far. As I have done in the past I place gear in the canoe including the Kitchen Barrel to take with me. To lay fish in the canoe I trim a bunch of outer branches with leaves from birch trees cut when clearing space for camp. From my journal: "Little moss here. One small patch near Tarp I save as a fridge to bury filleted fish; lucky to have it. A good campsite really, okay (not perfect) tent site, good fireplace and Tarp shelter locations, lots of firewood, adequate shade especially from west sun, good water access and canoe parking, rock shore for cleaning fish, some wild edibles. Tent site not sheltered well and only centre part of base is level. This was the only adequate site of seven checked, plus probably an equal number I just eyeballed from the canoe." I catch a 26" pike at 'caribou' island where I find a sheltered area out of the wind. Getting back to camp needs some hard steady paddling. At 10:25, 12°C, I am eating breakfast including fresh bannock; I am liking the Daryl's bars even more now. Sitting near the fire feels good in the cold wind which forces burning lots of wood. I hope the wind does not bring in wildfire smoke again. By 11:00, 16°C, a few wispy white clouds, most of the fog is lifted but the wind is now strong. Breakfast finished, fire burned down again, I am getting chilled. I clear an area that is more sheltered for the canvas Tent if I need to use it. I have to throw off lots of down fire-dead wood and pull or prune small brush. The stand of pines up the hill provides ready access for required poles, measuring the proper length by stepping with my 'ruler' (12" boots). These boots have served me well for several years but the uppers are wearing out so will have to replace before next season. After lunch at 13:30 I notice the strong wind is blowing hard on the nylon tent, very noticeable when returning sleep gear after hanging on the clothesline all afternoon. The fly is being pushed into the side of the inner tent. Based on how the tent was being hit with wind last night I decide to shelter it with the canoe on the windward side. All gear now has to be stored in the tent, filling the rear vestibule. Not adequate turned downwards, I place the canoe on its side beside the tent after sawing off an obstructing upturned pine root. The canoe is now perched on a big boulder, leaning against the overturned stump root. To secure the canoe I pull the two painters from the bow and stern over the gunwale and underneath the respective thwarts then stretched opposing each other to nearby trees. The canoe sits solidly, the only downside being rain can collect inside. It makes obvious improvement against wind hitting the tent. Supper at 18:25 includes yummy sauteed fried pike with couscous [as per blog menu]. I talk to a gray jay in a tree above me, asking where its mate is which I can hear but not see farther away. The wind is not letting up and I am burning a lot of wood as I sit close to warm up while doing a puzzle. One advantage of the wind is the absence of bugs. I had intended to have a hot shower but with the wind I settle for a hot washcloth bath instead which feels good. Finishing a long puzzle at 21:10, it is 12°C, cloudy, orange sun but no smell of smoke. With no plans of moving on tomorrow, I am in bed by 22:00, a very late night for me. Cold I don pyjamas right away and soon am in sleeping bag for the remainder of the night. There is a strong wind all night so am thankful for the sheltering canoe.
June 14:
Up by 05:00, cold at 10°C with a very strong wind, completely overcast, orange sun but no smoke smell. There will be no fish for supper, windbound as far as canoeing and too windy at the shore. Dressing in two shirts, the plan is to eat under the Tarp but it is too windy for a fire. Wind so strong and looking like rain I decide to erect the canvas Tent, glad that I cut poles yesterday. Soon after starting to work I doff the heavy shirt. Tent up by 08:30 I eat breakfast inside with a pot of raw water on the stove to boil. Luckily there is some sand at one spot on shore for the stove. The Tent is catching some wind but nothing like the nylon tent. Thank goodness I set up the canoe as a windbreak for the nylon tent before bedtime last night. It is also good that I faced the tent the wider front away from the wind, partly coincidental because it happened to be the best footprint layout. All gear is in the canvas Tent except for bedding. Before lunch at 12:30, the remaining gear in the Tent, I pack the nylon tent just as rain starts so it gets put away a bit wet. Ironically this is the only time it rains today. Taking the tent down is none too soon as the wind has not lessened, flapping the tent mercilessly, even shaking out the short pole holding up the front vestibule. The fly on the windward side is pressed against the inner tent, not good if it rains. After sewing a tear in my heavy shirt I close up the Tent for the stove to dry the hanging bedding while out to do more chores (saw stovewood, pick salad, fetch spruce boughs). There are no bothersome bugs today. I keep my eye out for larger amounts of birchbark with no luck so far; all the parent trees of the regrowth must have been completely burned. Supper is cooked on the stove which I then let die. Bedtime at 20:00 still sees the wind just as strong as ever. Sleeping well, most of the night spent in the sleeping bag.
June 15:
After arising by 06:00 and heading outside to start a fire for breakfast because it is so cool, I soon change my mind when rain falls and the wind is still very strong. I will start the stove to warm up and to bake a bannock. Under the Tarp is a pile of dry twigs from which I assemble a bundle 10" long x 6" diameter. I had also finally managed to collect a few birch bark cylinders 4" x 2" diameter. From a tree nearby I strip enough dry paper-thin birch bark to loosely fill a cylinder. Lighting the cylinder I place it carefully in the stove. Then I gently add small twigs on top then gradually bigger in teepee fashion and finally six pieces of small 12" dry stovewood and two larger. The stove fire catches well. From my journal: "Yay! Success! A new better way of starting the stove using a bundle of twigs." If wood is wet then I would have to split kindling to use instead of the twigs and stovewood. Soon I have bannock mixed to bake for breakfast at 08:45. It is 10°C, still very strong wind, very cloudy with thunder, no sun to be seen. Back at the Tarp I make four more twig bundles and four birch bark cylinders. It is a challenge though to find enough birch bark. Other routine chores done, I saw 30 pieces of stovewood and gather salad before lunch. I walk on a game trail through muskeg beside camp to check if water along shore is deep enough for fishing; it is not. The rain is short-lived and the wind drops to moderate so I load the canoe with the usual gear to go fishing, wearing rain pants with jacket handy if needed. Just as I embark there is a brief rain shower so on goes the rain jacket. Wind seems stronger too as I paddle into it to reach the island. Before leaving camp I hear a strange call from a Canada goose near the windward end of the island, several honks as if in distress. A bald eagle rises from that area, then a second eagle which circles low back over the same location. Are they attacking the goose, or is the goose down or injured and they are checking it out? As I approach the isle an eagle flies away; the other eagle may have already left. I try fishing a few spots before finding a sweet spot partially sheltered where I can jam the canoe bow onto some rocks and not get blown off. In short order I catch a nice 26" pike which I will fillet back at camp. Curious about the goose I paddle to the end of the isle where I see one goose in the reeds of shallow water, neck stretched upwards. As I approach it flies off. I look for a second ill or injured goose but do not see one. Geese mate for life and I have seen a small flock staying with a hurt one on a river until the poor guy sunk from sight. Either there is one that I cannot see or the single goose was feeling poorly or was being harassed by the eagles and now felt safe to leave after I chased them off. I assume the goose is a local one. Eagles do catch waterfowl; I have seen an eagle chasing a duck before. They are known to kill geese and this one may have escaped such a fate. Getting the 500 metres to camp is easy with the wind now pushing me back. Supper is a delicious pike chowder [as per blog menu]; it would certainly taste better with the old chicken soup base (which I will use again next year) instead of the healthier no MSG low salt type carried this season. By 18:55, 16°C, very cloudy, grey, finally calm after three days of constant wind. I change my mind about prepacking as it sure looks like rain. Stove damper closed with only a few embers left, falling asleep doing a puzzle I close the door and go to bed at 19:40. Steady heavy rain with lightning and thunder starts at 20:00 until midnight. I sleep well, in the sleeping bag most of the night.
June 16:
Up by 05:00 it is cold, very cloudy, temperature 8°C when checking at 08:30 but wind has dropped to moderate, now from the north. So I am no longer windbound but no sign of weather clearing yet. Breakfast includes fresh bannock baked on the stove. After fetching stovewood poles and sawing more stovewood, I prepare the canoe for fishing. The wind takes me two km before I catch a 20" pike, and release a very small one. I have travelled much farther than I wanted. My favourite spot does not produce anything, probably a reflection of the wind changing to the opposite direction. I try along the island and through the narrows below reaching a small isle where I catch the fish. Paddling back to camp against the wind is hard work. As I clean the fish my usual gull shows up now floating near shore to successfully retrieve a piece of gut before sinking beyond reach. By 13:30 lunch it is 22°C, lots of blue sky with white cumulus so hopefully the bad weather has broken. As I am eating I get a surprise visitor, a bald eagle landing in the water only a few metres away in my direct line of sight through the brush behind the Tarp shelter. There is a piece of fish gut that had blown in by the wind and sank. The sudden big splash in the lake startles me and I turn to look just as the bird splashes into the water, wings spread, a majestic sight. My movement equally startles the eagle as we eye each other and it frantically climbs into the air without the fish, water splashing widely. An awesome experience. Optimistic about weather I pack fish gear, stove and tools. After fried fish supper I prepack the Kitchen Barrel. Wind is almost calm now, back to the south again, but very cloudy, not promising like throughout the day. Rain starts at 21:00 and pours steadily until midnight then intermittently until 04:00. At 03:00, although the alarm was shut off long ago, I do open the door to look outside to see a dark gloomy sky before going back to sleep, my weather prediction failed once more.
June 17:
Everything outside is soaking wet this morning. I have to unpack pots from Kitchen Barrel and then erect stove. While setting the stove back on its base of sand in the Tent I realize a problem. The stove base had been resting directly on the sand with no air circulation which would overheat the bottom metal. As portable feet for the stove I use four overturned cans (empty salmon cans, 2" high x 3" diameter). They had sunk into the soft sand so they were not supporting the stove. Usually the soil I place under the stove is firm enough so the overturned cans do not sink anymore than I want for select ones to level the stove. From my journal: "Brainwave ... turn cans over so bottoms sit on the sand ... duh! Will do from now on unless on hardened soil if I need to level cans by pushing down." I find it interesting that no matter how long I have been camping there is always something to learn or to improve. My checklists always need revising after every outing. Lunch is in the shade away from the Tarp shelter which is currently home to many horseflies. Now spiders are crawling over me but at least they do not bite. The sky is mostly clear blue with some white cumulus, 23°C, light wind. A hot shower feels wonderful. By midafternoon temperature rises to 27°C. Interestingly the breeze has rotated back to north again. There are a few mosquitoes but bugs really are not bad at all. While eating supper at 16:50 a mouse runs across the path right in front of me. By bedtime temperature has dropped to a comfortable 22°C. I have prepacked again to hopefully move on tomorrow.