07:11 September 3, smoky horizon, just leaving camp 17 island.
Heading up a big bay into a long narrows.
Bald eagle nest overlooking the narrows.
When heading down the narrows last month it was too windy to even glance at the red ochre Cree pictographs let alone stop to take a photo.
Just past the narrows at the opening into another large bay several km long. It and multiple islands are obscured by thick smoke making use of map and compass imperative.
Three hours later finally reaching the entrance to a short narrows leading to the bay where camp 18 will be situated. Still smoky.
September 4, camp 18 (old camp 6). It rained all last night and early this morning. Nylon tent was used yesterday but rainy cool weather leads to setting up canvas Tent and stove.
Bunchberries ripe now, easy to gather to eat right away or for supper.
Flock of migrating Canada geese high overhead heading south. Can you spot them in the first photo? If not for their distinctive honk I probably would not have noticed them.
September 4 midafternoon paddling to the falls to catch two walleye and a pike. After the all night rain the clouds look 'normal' not smoky.
September 5, 06:01 - 06:16 sunrise through rain-bearing dark clouds, just smoky at horizons.
September 6, 05:59 - 06:55 sunrise through cloud, smoke and fog.
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Summary:
Daylight comes later every day, nighttime earlier. Have to navigate with map and compass in thick smoke but fortunately have a strong tailwind most of the day. Heavy rain after I land while finishing camp setup. To reach camp 18 (old camp 6) I have travelled 20 km. Rain continues during the first night and next morning, again on third day, so I erect canvas Tent and stove. Rain and cool weather welcome, as is the warmth of the stove in the Tent. No luck fishing on the isle the second day; lure gets snagged requiring canoe to retrieve but then is a struggle to paddle against the wind back to camp. Good fishing at the waterfalls and at camp the third day. Because of lower water levels clear an extended first portage trail. Check second portage trail and mark the lower landing with flagging tape to make it recognizable from the water. Meet a fellow in a motorboat from Sandy Bay who gives an update on the fire situation for the community.
September 3:
Up by 04:30 to pack gear inside the tent by candlelight, it is still not fully light half hour later. I had asked for a favourable wind and no rain until reaching camp if possible. By the time I cross my big bay and paddle down a long narrows there is a moderate north tailwind. I pause once to photograph a few Cree pictographs on the rock cliffs. Giving thanks for the good wind, I stop for breakfast on an island. Pushing off again I have to paddle hard across the wind to the other side of the narrows. Now it is very smoky forcing me to navigate a wide expanse by map and compass as I head up the next several kilometres portion. The smoke reaches far up in the sky, the sun when I can see it just a red ball. I cannot view even the first of a string of small islands I am aiming for. There are 12 inch waves and some big swells that have me paddling air or splashing water into the canoe; the water surface is not where my paddle expects it. Rather than sticking close to the isles I paddle more direct to take advantage of the now strong tailwind. I gladly stop in the lee of a peninsula for rest and lunch; by the time I near it the waves have really gained momentum. The last narrows for the day takes me to the portion of the lake where I plan to camp. When I reach the south end of the channel it is necessary to turn and head against the wind keeping close to the north shore which still does not provide much protection. It is a long two kilometres, hard paddling, not direct to the island campsite but close to the shore until I can finally turn with the wind to reach the isle. Finally reaching the landing at 15:00 I notice the lake is only down 12 inches from when last here. From my journal: "Have a feeling it is going to pour. Starting pots of water to boil as I erect the nylon tent, I feel a few drops of rain. Before I place gear in the tent the packs are already damp. While maintaining the fire I set up the Tarp now getting wetter myself as the rain starts in earnest. Coincidentally where I placed the canoe is in the perfect spot when I raise the Tarp. Finally I can place the wet Kitchen Barrel under shelter and retrieve some gear from the front tent vestibule for supper, including my long overdue rain jacket." At 17:20 I am eating supper, the rain stopped for now. In the distance the waterfalls appear to have lots of water, reinforced by their sound. To reach camp 18 (old camp 6) I have travelled 20 km. It rains on and off all night and into early morning.
September 4:
Arising late by 06:00 because of the rain and prolonged darkness I toss all loose gear and bedding into two large dry-bags. Still raining intermittently, 12°C, moderate north wind, the very cloudy grey sky looks 'normal' not smoky. I give thanks for the rain and at least temporarily clearing smoke. One thing I sure notice in this location, like many, wind direction can be misleading when islands and bays funnel it differently. One has to look at a larger lake expanse to see which way the waves are moving. My plan is to erect the canvas Tent though not sure where. The only decent level spot is occupied by the Tarp shelter and canoe so I choose to move them elsewhere. The canoe goes near the landing and the Tarp behind the nylon tent. Another advantage of setting up the Tent in the shelter location is that the ground is dry, everything else soaked. At 08:30 I am eating breakfast beside the stove, bedding and sleepwear hanging in the cozy Tent. My young self is amazed how quickly the new camp setup is completed; this old guy still 'got it'. No luck fishing at my preferred site near camp, I try from the south point of the island. From my journal: "Bushwhack through thick brush and across down trees. Thinking I'm being so smart to be able to fish from a new place never tried before. Soon snag hook on the rock bottom which extends in shallows from the shore. Though windier than desirable for the empty canoe I think I can paddle from camp to retrieve the lure. Manage to salvage everything intact but to return to camp have to go around the corner getting blown into weeds. Going downwind was easy, not so going back upwind. Momentarily consider having to haul the canoe onto land here for now. Making my way back close to shore the canoe gets driven once into the bulrushes. It's a struggle to even keep on a zigzagging course while being buffeted right and left with the threat of being turned around. And no fish to show for my labour." I tie up the canoe at camp with the hope to paddle to the falls to fish later. After sawing and splitting stovewood and fetching spruce boughs for the Tent entrance I eat lunch in the warmth of the Tent, hat and shirt off. Sitting in the chair, my booted feet rest on fresh boughs beside the stove. At 13:00 I get dressed and load the canoe with all the usual gear. Getting to the waterfalls will be easy with the wind; getting back may be the hard part but at least I will have extra ballast in the canoe. In short order I land two walleye and a pike, the latter's orange flesh indicating it was feeding on fresh water shrimp. The wind dropped to light now still helping to drive smoke away, a cool 16°C, I smell smoke only once. The sky in the west starts to clear. While here I decide to check the first portage. The water level is down enough that I have to dock farther out from the trail. The shallow water underlaid with stones and a few bigger boulders will make it harder to land a fully loaded canoe. Down branches and trees entail use of the saw to clear the path. When I went through here in July the trail was 140 metres long, now in lower water I have to extend it another 40 at the upper end, 10 at the lower. Not wanting to get caught with a weather change, I paddle back the half kilometre to camp to fillet the fish. After dropping off the fish at the west point to be processed, I first unload and store gear and canoe then light a mosquito coil in the Tent. There are fewer bothersome mosquitoes lately ... however ... "If you think one small thing can't make a difference, you've never spent a night with a mosquito." (anonymous African proverb). At 17:10 I am eating fish chowder cooked on the stove, screen door closed, no clothes on except moccasins. Life is good! Supper is accompanied by a quarter cup of bunchberries. After dressing to finish some chores outside at 18:50, the sun is shining through the Tent for the first time today. Sitting with no clothes on again even though cool outside I am too warm inside. The stove damper has been closed but I should have stopped adding wood sooner. Once I shut the door and window it will be too hot so I sprinkle a cup of water on the embers in the stove. (Provided only a small amount of water is used the stove will not be damaged.) In bed by 19:30, getting dark already, I sleep okay but the mattress is not as level as would be nice.
September 5:
Up by 05:30 it is still somewhat dark, not a good sign. After doing the morning routine in the canvas Tent of hanging up bedding and sleep clothes and rolling up the bed underlay and mattress, I place gear under the shelter to mix fresh breakfast bannock. The sky looks threatening, dark grey clouds everywhere, not sure about smoke. Starting the fireplace to boil water I then bake bannock just before rain starts. I hurriedly carry gear back to the Tent. It really starts to pour rain as I am going to the bathroom; literally caught with my pants down, getting wet, I waddle to the shelter to finish ablutions. Donning rain jacket I carry four shovelfuls of live embers to the stove to start its fire. Damper wide open, the Tent is soon warm and I hang up wet clothing to dry as I eat breakfast. I had thought of fishing from shore on arising but luckily did not. By 08:35 the rain stops after pouring hard since 07:00. It is a cool damp 10°C and I have to close the Tent door most of the way against the north wind. Dry and warm I go to 'my' fishing spot and soon catch two nice walleye (14", 17"). Usually I step down on the steep rock slope but now it is not safe, slippery from the rainfall. So I must stand up one metre above the lake on top of the level mossy bank with trees growing right behind. Using the fishing pole, I yank the hooked fish up behind me on land, invariably getting line tangled in brush. In my experience I have to do it soon and quickly or lose the fish especially walleye which tend to be lightly hooked; there is a scramble to grab the fish which would like to return to the water. After trying for a while longer I pause to carry the fish to the west point to fillet. Back at camp I fetch several poles and saw more stove wood. Trying again I catch a 19" pike which I take to the point to fillet before lunch. While cleaning the fish I get several gnat bites on my forearms, jacket and shirt sleeves pulled up ... buggers. Shortly before noon lunch in the Tent the sun makes an appearance. Mid afternoon, 14°C with a cold north wind I have a much needed bath while I can still towel dry in the warmth of the Tent. As I bathe, hoping for sunshine, instead I get some rain and wind gusts but the clean feel is worth it. After cutting more stove wood I catch up on my journal in the Tent but keep falling asleep in the warmth of the stove. More rain blows through before I start the fireplace to fry fish for supper. (I do not like to fry on the stove because of fat spatter.) Wind gusts raise the front of the Tarp shelter so I tie it down to a heavy log. The Tent is comfortably warm, having let the stove die before having to douse embers with water as I did last evening. In bed by 19:45, too dark to read even with glasses, nights are getting longer. A loon calls repeatedly across the bay close to the falls as I fall asleep. Waking about two hours later I need to get in the sleeping bag.
September 6:
When there is enough light at 05:00 I get up to hang sleep gear. On exiting I guess the temperature to be 10°C but the thermometer reads 5°C; I am more acclimated to the cool temperatures now. The fog is so thick I cannot even see across the lake to the nearest mainland shore 200 metres away. After baking bannock outside I carry embers to start the stove. Tent warmed up I enjoy it with my shirt off to eat breakfast. Chores done by 08:00 my plan is to fish at the falls. First though I want to dock on the mainland below the small waterfall to walk through the bush to reach the second portage; I will clear it if necessary but also determine if the lower landing previously used will be accessible with decreased water levels. Successfully reaching the latter I see how far out on the boggy reed bed I can walk without sinking over boot tops. I think it will be possible to drive the loaded canoe towards shore far enough to walk and then pull the canoe closer. Because the spot will be indistinguishable from the water I mark it with a piece of orange flagging tape tied to an alder, to be removed after reaching the site tomorrow. Next I walk the trail to the upper end at the next lake to find the path is still clear. 'Just in case' I scout out a camp spot and clear a few fallen trees; it is a limited area, not suitable for the canvas Tent so would have to use the nylon tent. If windbound it would be a dreary location in the thick bush, the only advantage being easy firewood. Walking back to the canoe I paddle to the main falls. The wind drives me into the reeds along shore as I am reeling in a pike. In the process the line gets tangled so I make a long cast out into the lake to untangle; as I retrieve the line I notice a knotted loop on the reel. After extensive use since the start of the season, the line definitely needs to be changed before fishing again. Luckily as I bring in the line I catch a nice walleye so fishing for supper is done and line change can wait. Back at camp after cleaning the fish, I eat lunch in the Tent. A warm day now with lots of blue sky overhead, I remove the larger pieces of burning stove wood to the fireplace. I fully open the damper to burn the remaining embers. The dry nylon tent which was soaked with dew in the morning gets packed to move on tomorrow. Midafternoon is sunny, 17°C, cool moderate south wind. The stove is almost burned out and I could pack it but leave in place; I have been caught before needing to put it back up. While outside eating supper of fish chowder a motorboat goes past and stops at the waterfalls for a few minutes before returning. I walk to my landing and wave; the boat stops and the lone occupant and I make introductions. Kurt is a Cree from Sandy Bay who is on a day off from his job at the water treatment plant and is looking for moose. It turns out I have met his father Rob once on a portage several years ago, small world. Kurt is one of the essential workers at Sandy Bay, otherwise he would have been evacuated along with most of the community who are still away. He says that the fire got within two km of Sandy Bay but seems to be under control now. Prepacking done, by bedtime it has warmed to 19°C and I only need to use the fleece shell during the night.