06:43 September 7, sunrise through smoke before leaving camp 18.
07:37, landing at first portage of the day below the waterfalls, smoke extending quite high in the sky. Because of lower water levels canoe is docked 10 metres down the lake from where the trail starts. In the background is camp 18's small island.
A rusty stove represents one of the few remnants of an old cabin that overlooked the falls. How many years ago did someone live here, why, what did they do, was it one person or more? It's easy to wonder.
The upper end of the portage extends 40 metres above where I landed in July. The path continues beside the old spruce tree underneath its moss-covered overhanging branches which fortunately I can duck through when carrying the canoe.
The canoe partially loaded sits in shallow water just enough to float between large boulders. I start loading it while farther up on shore and gradually shove it out as more gear is added. The 190 metre portage is 50 metres longer than when used in July.
Looking downstream just above rapids leading to the two waterfalls where I landed in July when water levels were about 12 inches higher.
Heading upstream through the little lake with rapids at both ends.
Making my way through thick reeds and grass towards the orange flagging tape I placed at the lower end of the next portage a few days ago.
The first approach head on with the bow of the canoe is to create a path through the reeds poling as far as possible towards shore.
Backing up I stop for breakfast in the canoe out in the lake. Mosquitoes on shore would be more bothersome and I am hungry. The slow moving current gradually carries the canoe downstream a short distance until I paddle back again. The completed puzzle page is being used as a 'plate'. Beside the full peanut butter jar is an empty one containing potable water, my extra 'canteen'.
Breakfast finished I back the canoe stern first into the previously made track pushing in with the spare paddle as far as possible. Now comes the test to see if as hoped I will be able to walk on the thick mesh of water plants without going over the top of my boots.
I manage to 'walk on water' making sure to step quickly so as not to sink too far. The canoe is just visible through the grass. When I start crossing the spongy soggy base I start humming a 'Soggy Bottom Boys' song (a fictious group in the film 'O Brother, Where Art Thou?').
Using the stern painter I pull the fully loaded canoe towards shore as far as possible before returning to start carrying gear one piece at a time.
Bringing more gear to dry land I continue pulling in the canoe as the load lightens.
Finally the canoe is empty and I can swivel it through the reeds to pull it bow first for carrying. Amazingly my feet remain relatively dry.
Looking back at the path through the canoe trail in the water weeds. Note that I have removed the flagging tape for reuse.
After portaging canoe up the 300 metre second portage it is loaded with gear just barely floating in the next lake. I position the canoe between boulders but when I sit in the canoe to shove off ... it is stuck on the bottom. Stepping back out on shore I push hard and jump in the canoe, poling madly to keep momentum, luckily not having to get into the lake.
Heading up the lake to make camp 19 at old camp 5 site, smoke visible just at horizons. I have travelled five km including two portages (190, 300 metres). A short day, a good day, arriving by 13:00.
05:45 and 06:21 September 8, smoke tinged orange-red sunrise.
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Summary:
Wildfire smoke continues. Second portage landing is over soggy water plant growth, like 'walking on water' as I hum along with a 'Soggy Bottom Boys' song. Narrowly avoid having to step into the lake to push off from second portage. Directions? ... who needs directions; not having bothered getting map out I give in when I realize not sure of location of next camp. Bear has again broken into the cabin where I will 'camp'; I pull and pivot a heavy picnic table inside to block back doorway and remove the grate at the front door to hopefully bear-proof the cabin. Luxury of a real chair, table and most importantly a flat level bed on the floor. Sleep well but these dark long nights make for too much laying in bed. Accidentally break thermometer. Distance to camp 19, old camp 5, is five kilometres including two portages (190, 300 metres), a short day, a good day. First portage is 50 metres longer than in July due to lower water levels.
September 7:
Still dark at 04:30 the alarm wakes me to pack sleep gear in the Tent by candlelight. When I head outside it is still darkened, calm, mosquitoes bothersome remaining so all day. Sunrise is a ruby red ball through smoke which extends quite high in the sky. The first portage half kilometre away is the shorter but harder in one sense as it is mostly uphill to bypass the waterfalls. Because of lower water levels canoe is docked 10 metres down the lake from where the trail starts; the path is also longer by 40 metres at the upper end, 190 metres instead of the 140 in July. Fortunately there is enough water to relaunch the canoe towards the second portage. When I approach the next landing marked with orange flagging tape a few days ago I drive the canoe hard into the reeds to create a first channel. Because of the darn mosquitoes I have already decided to eat breakfast floating in the canoe so I back out into the small lake. With no wind the gentle current floats me downstream only having to paddle back a handful of times.
Hunger satisfied I turn the canoe to back into the track poling with the paddle as far as possible, still several canoe lengths from dry land. To unload I need the stern facing shore. I have used the extra paddle since leaving the previous portage to spare my good paddle the abuse of poling. Now comes the test to see if as hoped I will be able to walk on the thick mesh of water plants without going over the top of my boots. The first time I just walk toward shore as far as the stern painter allows. I manage to 'walk on water' making sure to step quickly so as not to sink too far. The canoe is just visible through the grass. When I start crossing the spongy soggy base I start humming a 'Soggy Bottom Boys' song (a fictious group in the film 'O Brother, Where Art Thou?'). The tune that immediately comes to me is my favourite, 'Big Rock Candy Mountain'; chuckling I think though their other song 'Man of Constant Sorrow' might be more appropriate. Using the painter I pull the fully loaded canoe towards shore as far as possible before returning to start carrying gear one piece at a time. Bringing more gear to dry land I continue pulling in the canoe as the load lightens. The first few times my boots are in water never over the tops but very close as I try to step on firmer clumps, making sure to keep moving. By the time I have to carry the heavy barrels the canoe is far enough in so that footing is firmer but still quite wet. Finally the canoe is empty and I can swivel it through the reeds to pull it bow first for carrying. Amazingly my feet remain relatively dry.
This portage is longer at 300 metres but almost level, just a gentle rise. At the upper end of the trail there is less than 12 inches of water near shore with many boulders. I think I might have to remove all lower clothing to wade the loaded canoe out into the lake. From my journal: "Initially canoe gets stuck on a boulder but moving over solves the problem. Load front of canoe on shore but takes a hard shove to launch as bow digs into lake bottom. Finally fully loaded I get in and use spare paddle to push ... but no go. Oh oh! Get back on shore and push canoe a bit farther. Still stuck! Push canoe out more and then make an extra long step to hop in. We're off, just grazing two boulders but finally out in deeper water. Calm hot humid day, damn mosquitoes following as I paddle away. Though not head net worthy so really nothing to complain about Barry! Didn't get map and compass out even though I have to travel several kilometres. Directions? ... who needs directions. Where have I done this before, going extra kilometres out of the way?! I see a place in the distance on shore where a boulder? makes me think that might be the destination. Sigh ... finally giving in to get map out I realize I have to go at least two more kilometres."
Now good I land at the empty dock of the fishing outfitter cabin where I stayed at old camp 5. Initiating the SPOT™ at 12:55 it has been a short day, but a good one. I eat lunch on the go as I unload the canoe. Some gear is stashed under the canoe nearby; the remainder is taken to the cabin deck. When I left in July the dock had a running water pump servicing fire sprinklers. The firefighters have knocked down the fire sprinkler stands; they have also felled a small grove of trees that stood near the cabin next to the wildfire area. There are still no motorboats tied up and I soon learn that it seems the place has not been used at all this summer. My note explaining that I cleaned up after bear damage is still hanging where I left it in the cabin. A bear has pushed open the back door again but caused no further damage; however there is new bird dung and feathers on the furniture as they fly in and out at will through the doorway. I bring in a quite oversized heavy picnic table to place against the back door to hold it in place. To get it through the doorway I have to stand it on its side and pivot sideways; much pivoting and grunting is involved. A folded chair in between the table and door takes up the slack so that the door will not rattle. At the front door sill is a large steel grate in the deck with deep empty space below; I lift out the grate so that getting in the front door is difficult. Inside I set a chair before the doorway as a reminder for anyone before exiting that the grate has been removed. It would not be healthy to fall through the hole straddling the deck joists. Hopefully the cabin is bear-proof provided the bear does not break a window. Next I clean up the bird mess and the usual mice droppings. Bringing in my gear I set up the inner nylon tent. From my journal: "Sitting on a real chair at the table, no shirt or socks, no mosquitoes. It's a hybrid, part nylon tent, part canvas Tent-like but with even more luxury. Get a flat level floor tonight ... yay!" I open all windows that have functioning screens to get some cooling breeze. After having a welcome bath at the dock, at 17:25 in the cabin I am eating supper cooked at the outside fireplace. It is 24°C inside and outside the cabin but hot in the sun when tending the fireplace. From my journal: "Tired, by 19:10 head for bed. Sleep well but these dark long nights make for too much laying in bed. Seven hours is my ideal and I'm doing up to 10 hours. And we're still a long way from the shortest day in December. I like winter, including camping, but the only thing I don't like is the darkness."
September 8:
Rising to a smoke induced red sunrise, barely enough light at 05:30 to see, it is 10°C at 06:00, calm, damp, heavy dew. This location is on an isthmus between two lakes so I try fishing off both docks. Where I landed has relatively clear water but the opposite side is choked with green algae. Both are shallow near shore. Thinking I am safe to fish from the docks, after multiple casts the hook gets snagged. Luckily by walking along shore I am able to free the lure. I do see the ripples of fish surfacing farther out but would have to use the canoe so I call fishing done. My plan is to move on tomorrow and will fish at the next camp. From my journal: "At 08:00 eating fresh bannock at the table. Had accident with bannock; it face-planted into the fire. Rescue in time but a little cracked, blackened with ash and worse for wear. Tastes okay though." By 10:20, 18°C, finally sunny with a moderate wind the dampness is driven away. I hear but do not see a migrating flock of sandhill cranes; not the first and I have also heard Canada geese and snow geese more lately. From my journal: "At 11:25 not sure of temperature. Liquid separated in thermometer when it dropped from the windowsill outside to the deck. Will try setting in boiling water at suppertime. I try shaking the thermometer to reset the liquid (which I know doesn't work but try it anyway). It hits the table and breaks into multiple pieces. Aie! Get out small compass from Waist Pack which includes a thermometer I've never used. It's liquid is also separated! Probably isn't at all accurate anyway; only have it for the compass as backup. Lessons learned: don't shake compass near any object that may get hit; I know shaking doesn't work cause have tried it before when the only solution was boiling to rejoin the separated alcohol liquid. Seems like human nature is to shake the thermometer ... or at least MY human nature." I spend time catching up on journal, map distances, puzzles, prepping more halved candles, prepacking; also taking advantage of the cabin to replace the old tangled fishing line on the reel. Fortunately the afternoon strong gusting wind dies by suppertime for a safe fireplace. I had already scouted out a sheltered spot at shore, now not required. From my journal: "By 19:30, too dark to read, am in bed. Sleep very well, mostly on top of the bed as it is a warm night even with windows open. Don't know why I slept so well; wish I could replicate."