June 18 sunrise (03:45, 04:26, 04:39) as I prepare to leave camp 4. Heavy smoke haze at the horizon makes for a red-tinted sun.
08:13 stopped for breakfast on an island five km up the lake, two km past the exit of the target river. I had hoped to find a campsite close to the mouth of the river. Based on the terrain seen so far I know a new portage will probably be required. The distant shore beyond the canoe in the photo illustrates that recovering landscape. There is a sandy beach on the shore but completely exposed to the expanse of the lake with no shelter.
The following photos on June 18 are of canoeing up the target river. Having unsuccessfully checked multiple locations for a campsite I return to the river to head two km up the several rapids. Paddling hard to make my way, I line the canoe in one set of rapids. With wet boots I slip and fall once on the rocks, not a good thing to do; I should have had wading gear on.
Shown in the above photo, in one place the river tumbles down from the side over shallow rocks and boulders in three different spots (only two shown in photo). They are not wadeable with the loaded canoe and there is no way I would carry loads up them. I checked them in 2002 and not even my younger self would go that route.
This photo looks upstream towards a wide high beaver dam right across the river (just around the corner to the left); it was absent in 2002. I would have to wade, line or portage one more rapids to reach the dam. I do not get close enough to get a good photograph while paddling against the current. Without wading gear there is no easy place to land on the rock-clad shore; I cannot hold the canoe stationary for the 20 minutes required for a SPOT™ message of my location to be sent. Just above the dam is a pond from which I cut a 700 metre portage in 2002, hard to believe 21 years ago. Based on the thick bush the trail will be overgrown now since the fire of 2010. I give up for now and let the current turn the canoe to go back down the rapids. Stopping to eat lunch, I initiate a SPOT™ signal at 13:00, far below where I had reached.
Paddling downstream through the exit of the river I stop at the small island just outside the mouth. On my way upstream the end closest to the river appeared promising as a campsite. Stopping to check, my first words are "I'll be damned ... it's a decent looking campsite." From a distance I thought the island unsuitable because most of it is a big hill covered with jack pines. The only levelish spot is at the one end. The following photos are of the island.
There is not a lot of room for a tent so I saw out a large dead log felled by someone years ago. After an hour of intermittently sawing and doing other work the log is cut through and thrown off into the brush. Carpenter ants have nested inside the log creating long tunnels with excavated sawdust underneath.
There still is not enough space for the nylon tent so I saw out a section from another log to create room.
The following photos are taken on June 19. It rains heavily most of the day. The wind is strong, heavily buffeting the Tarp shelter and tent. To help shield the shelter I pile a bunch of long poles along the back. Note how the Tarp is being lifted up by the wind.
Close to shore I create a fireplace of 50 shovels-full of sand dug from the shallow lake bottom while wearing sandals and no clothes below the waist.
To help protect the tent I lay the canoe across the front tied to nearby trees.
The bailer and large pot placed below the edge of the Tarp are soon overflowing with rainwater. The pot will not require boiling to purify.
The next photos are on June 20 which is clear and sunny.
Looking towards the outlet of the river I paddled up two days ago.
Bedding is hung near the top of the steep hill.
Finally giving up on the light shirt that refuses to dry I cremate it in the fireplace.
Midmorning June 20 I take the canoe out to catch fish for supper at the mouth of the river exiting into the lake about 500 metres away.
Camp 4 seen through trees on the island.
A pair of bald eagles have a nest at one side of the river outlet. I watch and listen to them talking to each other for the duration of my stay.
A path cleared to the shore down the steep slope provides enough stones from the bottom to line the fireplace.
Photos below are on June 21 which is again rainy and very windy.
The SPOT™ device perched on some driftwood at the landing in front of the tent. Note the foam whipped up by strong winds.
Large logs on the fire to shelter it from rain.
Because of the wind and rain at the fireplace I cook fish on a small temporary fire at the bottom of the steep path out of the wind. I carry coals from the fireplace to start the new fire. This 26" pike is caught in the morning in a window between rains; brought back to the island I fillet it on the grassy shore (where the SPOT™ was used).
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Summary:
The dearth of campsites continues, travelling a total of 15 km, although ultimately only moving camp up the lake three km. Previous campsites are unrecognizable, overgrown with thick short bush, no tall trees. Paddling and lining two km up the rapids of the target river, the landscape is equally similar and uninviting; I am unhappy with the poor likelihood of progressing farther. Accidentally discover a decent looking campsite which however requires significant clearing (sawing out two big logs and shovelling lots of sand from the lake to make a fireplace). Worse though is that I seem to be stuck in a vortex of revolving wind bringing thunderstorms and heavy rain, storm-stayed much of the time. The wind pushing rain from varying directions forces me to continually adjust the Tarp shelter. Wind necessitates quickly setting up a temporary fire to cook one meal in a sheltered spot. Cremate my light shirt which refuses to dry. Definitely decide to ban the low salt no MSG spices from my menu next year, healthier but tasteless. A robin cheerfully sings for the duration of my stay, equally cheering me. Camp has a good view of a pair of nesting bald eagles whose majestic and elegant landing with a fish meal in strong winds is awe-inspiring. A small mouse and equally small warbler provide an entertaining spectacle as they sit close to each other as if conferring.
June 18:
Up by 03:00 to smoke haze at all horizons with a ruby red ball of sun shining through at 04:26, it is a cool 5°C. I was in the sleeping bag most of the night. Leaving at 05:45, I am pleased to be away in such good time. Making rapid headway in calm conditions, I continually scan for campsites; the paucity of decent locations makes me glad to have found that of camp 4. I paddle past the target river outlet looking for a spot close by for a camp. Continuing on up the lake two km to where it opens up into a broad stretch I stop to check a small island. Moving on to the adjacent bigger isle it too is not suitable for camping, thick muskeg and dense spruce trees. There is now a light headwind coming down the lake when I stop at 08:13. While there I explore and eat breakfast, sending a SPOT™ message of my location at 09:45. When I first land, unhappy about the lack of campsites near the target river, I am thinking to continue on up the lake and return in a few days to head up the river. However after a meal I am feeling more optimistic so decide to go back the two km to the mouth of the river. I will check upstream for possible campsites although not at all hopeful because all morning as far as the eye can see has been short thick brush and pine regrowth. I spot landmarks of where I camped in 2002, confirmed by my notations on the map; but the terrain is so different now, the campsites unrecognizable. I do stop to check two other spots. In many places while paddling the lake I hit shallows and have to move as far as 50 metres from the shoreline.
From my journal: "Just as about to enter the mouth of the target river, notice the small isle has mature trees mostly pine, a good sign. Very high hill from a distance but closeup the end facing the river looks flat. Stopping to investigate I say 'I'll be damned ... it's a decent looking campsite.' Checking it out I figure I could and might stay here." Heading up the river, managing to paddle/pole most rapids there is one I have to line. I deign to put on wading gear but should have as without it I tend to want to avoid getting wet so stone-step more than is safe. In one spot I do fall on slippery rock and bump my head but luckily nothing serious. Finally I go as far as possible without wading gear, reaching just below the uppermost rapids. Above it is a tall beaver dam stretching right across the stream where there was a small pond in 2002. From the pond I cut a 700 metre portage to bypass the shallow rock and boulder strewn rapids that enter the lower rapids from the side. Because of the dam I assume now that the pond will be larger. Everything looks so different after the fire, as far as the eye can see, thick brush. From my journal: "I say 'POI'. No way I'm heading up the river and cut this portage over two km from nearest campsite (the small isle at the mouth), going up rapids every time. Where I camped in 2002 was all burned and there's just brush and small trees. Of course my younger self says we should do it. My older self replies that even if we do it the chances are the entire route will have been burned with the same effect." I do not get close enough to get a good photograph of the dam while paddling against the current and there is no easy place to land on the rock-clad shore without wading gear. Giving up for now I turn to go back down the rapids, stopping to eat lunch. Here I initiate the SPOT™ at 13:00, far below where I had reached. [Later I regret not sending a signal to show how far up I had reached.] The headwind is now too strong to paddle farther back up the lake so camping at the isle it is, windbound again.
No rain in sight, rather than erecting the Tarp shelter, the priority is setting up the nylon tent which was packed wet. Doing so is much harder than anticipated. For some reason someone felled a large pine tree a long time ago. Thinking to fit the tent in a levelish spot beside the 10 inch diameter log, I prune out a bunch of spruce branches and alders and level some areas with the axehead. Knowing that the tent will be sloped a bit sideways when I erect the inner tent I soon realize that will not work; it is sloped a lot more than a little bit. So I pull the tent to the side to start sawing the log, a big job with handsaw. I perform other chores, repeatedly going back to the saw until successful. Hefting the heavy log up and backwards it lands out of the way in nearby brush. Trying the tent again there is improvement but still not enough level space. There is an eight inch pine log in the way. This one is easier to saw but have to do so in two places to remove a middle section. Aie ... much better! The bigger log is colonized in tunnels bored by large carpenter ants who are not happy with the intrusion. There is lots of excavated wood dust on the ground where the log lay which I push out of the way so as not to be under the tent. I feel bad for the ants, but to my knowledge none were injured by my actions and will continue to reside in the long severed pieces. Eventually the ants would have done my work for me a few years on. Tent up and gear laid out or in rear vestibule I breathe a sigh of relief. In front of the tent I clear a path to the south shore to fetch water and to park the canoe. Having landed at the west shore of the island's point there is no good spot to park the canoe or to collect water. So now I have two landing spots close together. Paddling around the point I pull up the canoe and store some gear underneath. The next challenge is a fireplace. There are no stones, though I later find two small and two larger close by. Initially I think to have a fire on the bare ground at shore but after clearing alder and some spruce branches realize the ground is just humus and will burn. The shallow shoreline at this first landing is sand mixed with crud and plants. Removing clothes and boots below my waist I don Crocs™ sandals and step down into the water to dig up at least 50 shovels-full to form a big pile of wet sand. After spreading it out with an elevated rim I buttress the deeper section on the sloped shore side with my meager collection of stones. Unpacking pots I soon have a fire going to boil water. Pleased with my sand fireplace (and myself) it works well. While the fire is going I erect the Tarp shelter in front facing away from the west against the setting sun. The rear of the Tarp is only 18 inches from the fireplace but elevated enough to hopefully be safe, higher than I would usually set it. This is the only place on the entire island for tent and Tarp shelter so I have no other choice. I have checked behind camp up the steep tall hill.
It has been a beautiful mostly clear day although windbound since arriving. At 18:30 supper temperature is 21°C, the wind even stronger than when landing. Several warblers flit past me back and forth along shore as I eat. One stops on a branch close by so I could definitely see the yellow confirming the identification. Pretty much any sparrow-sized bird with yellow markings I call a warbler. A very cheery robin has been singing all day. Temperature drops to 17°C while I absorb some heat from the fire but the cold north wind hits my back and neck even though protected by the steep hill behind. Chilled I put on heavy shirt, hat and neck bandana. In bed by a late 21:30, I sleep in the fleece shell, resisting the occasional temptation to use the sleeping bag. All but closing windows at both ends helps, the wind hitting the tent more as night progresses.
The direct distance from camp 4 is only three km but I have gone a total of 15 km going farther up the lake then back to paddle up the rapids of the target river, plus extra distance to check four possible campsites. Disappointing but not surprising the landscape is still recovering from the 2010 fire. Short thick bush along the river will make moving farther upstream difficult, as will a big beaver dam not present when I was last here. I am not sure if I wish to or am up for cutting a new portage to replace the 700 metre one I made in 2002.
June 19:
Up by 06:00 I start a fire to help warm up in the presence of dense cloud and a cold strong east wind effectively making me windbound. The wind affects the campsite more than it did yesterday from the north. To shield and maintain the fire I use bigger wood so that I am able to bake a bannock, the best one yet. Gathering long big wood I stack it behind the Tarp shelter to serve as a windbreak. I find another large stone for the fireplace for a grand total of five, far less than desirable. The tent is being buffeted badly so I set up the canoe as its windbreak; thank goodness the wind was not as strong last night. Even with the wind a robin sings heartily nearby. To create a clean mat under the shelter, I prune the boughs from spruce trees cut yesterday to make room for tent and Tarp. With the switch in wind direction I now have to fill the pots from the first landing behind the fireplace though have to be careful not to slip down the steep bank into the lake. The wind hastens burning so sawing big firewood seems to be a never-ending task. By 12:25 lunchtime the wind might a bit less strong from the east but now there is light steady rainfall. The rain is coming in the upper inland side of the Tarp so I lower it and raise the lower shore side which I had originally situated to shield against the setting sun. Frustratingly, and exacerbated by rain, now the Tarp must be set up in the reverse which takes some manoeuvring, using three extra ropes. At least now there is some more heat radiating beneath the Tarp. From my journal: "No way to put up the canvas Tent here. Smiling I remark out loud 'Would be nice to be back at camp 4'. My robin is singing in the rain. Doesn't look like fishing, salad or mending my shirt today. Actually don't think the wind dropped any. If I start to burn some of the firewood piled against the wood windbreak behind the Tarp will I feel the wind more? Aie!" Thankfully I am getting some heat from the fire as my hat, leather mitts and rain jacket dry on the clothesline under the Tarp. Rain jacket has to get donned every time I leave to get more wood. I have fetched several large logs and a standing dead pine to saw under the shelter. With the steady rain I place the large pot and the bailer beneath the edge of the low side of the Tarp which soon fill to overflowing. The pot of rainwater will not require boiling to purify. My pants dry somewhat as I sit under the Tarp close to the fire, falling asleep as I do some puzzles. I close the inner tent windows to within a hand width of the top, not taking any chances on rain getting inside. From my journal: "Floater in my left eye, hopefully not a result of hitting my head when I fell yesterday lining the canoe. Rain might be a bit lighter now, but not so the wind! Robin singing away nearby but on the mainland; don't think have ever heard one so cheery and full-sounding, singing his heart out. Brings a smile to my face. Hopefully his song portends a good day tomorrow. Each time I saw another log it warms me before it even gets to the fire." Temperature has stayed between 12°C to 14°C all day, but feels colder with the wind and rain. By the time supper is over at 17:40 rain has stopped, sky still full of thick grey clouds and the east wind is lighter, now feeling more heat from the fire. By 20:30 I am in the fleece shell until midnight, then in sleeping bag when I open all the windows. Thunder and lightning pass by but no rainfall on camp.
June 20:
Breakfast includes fresh bannock at 08:30. It is a beautiful calm morning, mostly clear blue sky, 13°C, so nice to have a break from the wind and rain. I stretch the clothesline near the top of the big hill behind camp to air sleep gear. The fishing rod is assembled in preparation to take out the canoe. The front of Tarp must be raised more because flames are too close. From my journal: "Tired of the damn light shirt NEVER being dry! Don't know why??? Like it attracts moisture out of the air ... aie! Threats to burn it have not helped. Finally I do cremate it in the fireplace. The good news at least is I never got around to sewing part of the gap in the shirtsleeve where one button would not stay done up. Now will wear heavy shirt instead. My robin singing cheers me up. Mmm ... bannock really good, moist, tasty. Heard a fish? surface near the fireplace, or an otter? There are fish scales on shore so otter could be looking to dine on land."
From the canoe in quick order I catch two pike (21", 19") inside the mouth of the river nearby. A bald eagle is upset with me being so close in the canoe, screeching as it flies overhead; I can see the head of its mate on their large nest in a jack pine to one side of the river. The nest is quite big, I think relatively new since the 2010 fire, their original nest probably burned. I land on some exposed rock shore away from camp to fillet the fish. Farther up on shore a bear has dug several holes in the shallow soil to pull up some roots to eat. Back in camp at 12:30 lunch I bury the bagged fillets in shaded damp moss for supper. Temperature now is 23°C, cloud lining all horizons but blue sky overhead. While putting the gun back in the tent after canoeing two mosquitoes sneak in but luckily I get them with the fly swatter. While the large pot is on the fire to heat for a shower I clear a path down a steep slope to the shore behind camp. I have spotted lots of stones there to use to ring the fireplace. The task also supplies a good supply of firewood and some more spruce boughs for tent entrance and Tarp shelter. After a wonderful shower I trim facial hair that has got out of control. Midafternoon a thunderstorm moves through, just missing camp. The wind has switched from south to north and has got stronger. I place the canoe back to shield the tent in case the wind moves to the east again. Supper includes birch leaf salad and fried pike. I was afraid I might not be able to eat both fish, but doing so is no problem. The one issue with the meal is the Dash™ spice is not very tasty without salt; this healthier experiment has failed and I will definitely return to the old menu with spices containing salt and MSG. I am pleased that the heavy shirt is so much more comfortable than the light one. At 18:25 rainfall starts but gear has already been transferred to the tent for the night, my timing impeccable.
June 21:
Up to the alarm at 03:00, the intention is to move on. From my journal: "Should have known better. Darker than should be and windy. Should have just pulled boots on and gone outside in PJs. But no ... I get dressed. Take out Rubber Pack, Waist Pack, pee can, LifeStraw®. Starts to rain. Very cloudy, strong east wind. Empty pee can and back to tent with the gear. Get undressed and in PJs again then back to bed." Sleeping until 06:30, I arise again by 07:00 to start a fire for breakfast. The warmth feels good so I saw a big chunk of log to put in the fireplace. I bring in more firewood and another big pine log to saw under the Tarp. Interestingly last night's strong north wind switched to the east proving it was good to situate the canoe again as a windbreak for the tent before going to bed. One bald eagle brings a fish for the mate in the nest. From my journal: "I view the eagle soaring in to the nest fast, majestically and so elegantly. I can't see into the nest though. The two adults are cheeping to each other. Would be interesting to know what they are saying. Rain doesn't last long so I remark 'Hopefully can take canoe out to fish in the lee of my isle' ... but the rain starts again." Today is the first day of summer, 13°C, windbound again with a strong east wind. There is a big bunch of suds at the east landing, whipped up by the wind. My robin has been singing once this morning, warblers several times. After breakfast one eagle takes off from the nest. Typically both adults hunt when there are eggs or young in the nest, the male more often. Both sit on eggs and hatched young, the female more often. A loon wails its beautiful eerie call nearby. Two gray jays exchange their soft murmurs.
At 09:05 rain has stopped and the wind dropped enough that I load the canoe with minimal gear to go fishing. After adding more big wood to the fire I push off, wearing rain jacket and rain pants. The wind has moved to the south. First I try fishing in the lee of the island with no luck so paddle through the mouth of the river. Now the wind switches to the west so I head to the sheltered side where I catch a very nice 26" pike. With the sky around me looking like rain I go back to camp and unload and park the canoe. I manage to clean the fish just using the filleting board on the grassy ground at the landing. (It is harder to fillet when the board is not elevated on some support.) The second landing is shallow and difficult to fill pots especially when there is onshore wind. While the weather deteriorates all around me, I paddle the canoe around to the original landing to clear sticks and logs from the lake behind the fireplace. The water is deeper here so I need to make it easier to fetch water if necessary; using the shovel I cut steps down to the water to make it safer to fill the bailer and pots.
From my journal: "Late lunch at 14:00 after dealing with heavy downpour, hail, thunderstorm, very close loud cracks of lightning and thunder. For over one hour. An eagle returns to nest which will be getting pelted by rain and hail with very little protection from tree branches above. The adults are talking to each other, probably commenting on how bad the storm is. And how the guy across the channel is busy trying to keep fire going and switching the Tarp shelter back the way it was. In my defence the wind started east, then gradually shifted in the morning to south, then west, then north. Then with threatening skies the north wind brought thunder and lightning to my north, missing the isle. However the wind shifted yet again to the east where it started first thing this morning. This time though it brought the thunderstorm to the island, either a new system or the same one that just circled. I switched the Tarp when the wind was west to better shelter from it. Then when the wind circled to the east again and started raining heavily and hailing on camp I switched the Tarp back because the rain was coming under the raised back side. Aie! Me getting wet in the process. Just had rain jacket on; should have had pants too. Now jeans quite wet up to crotch. Was a challenge keeping fire going during the long deluge, adding dry small wood under the two one metre logs and blowing to get flame going well."
By 14:30 it rains on and off, but raining steady more than not. With lunch and fire I am sweating now. When rain relents I stand near the fire, otherwise sitting near the fireplace under the Tarp, sometimes falling asleep doing a puzzle. From my journal: "14:55, just finished lunch in between fetching wood and feeding fire. 15:20, won't stop raining. Do puzzle. 15:45, more wood to fire. Thank goodness didn't leave today! Manage to get mostly dry by fire, usually sitting under Tarp but standing when rain slows or stops for a bit. Wind changed again through every direction and back to north then back to west. Miserable! Wind from west not good when so strong as it fans fire directly toward Tarp shelter. Time for supper. Get water heated but can't cook fish the way flames are shooting up. So move embers x4 shovels-full to the stone-collecting spot at the bottom of the steep path which is in the lee of the west wind. Add enough wood to make a small fire where I can fry the fish. Manage to prepare couscous at first fire as it only needs boiling water. It's getting wet under the Tarp from rain blown in; would have to be lowered again which I can't do while fire active. Decide to move food and water to front tent vestibule and start eating there, uncomfortably crouched down. Next the wind switches north so I return to the Tarp to finish eating. Have lost track of how many times the wind changed direction. It's revolving quite quickly, like I'm in the centre of a vortex. Aie! Interestingly one time as I walk to the rock shore fire I see in the canoe landing a small mouse and an equally small warbler sitting on the ground near each other as if conferring. Probably asking when this strange being will leave and what is he doing? Sort of 'The Wind in The Willows' story-like. After extinguishing both fires head to bed. Everything feels a bit damp. This is a damp trip."