07:30 July 13 well on my way on Black Bear Island Lake, quite overcast with grey clouds.
In the distance on a large island an interesting view of peek-a-boo through the bare trunks of a row of tall poplars behind spruce trees in the foreground.
Heading into the Churchill River proper and then upstream against the current. The west headwind is too strong to allow me to land to view all the ancient Cree pictographs; one can be seen on the rock face from the canoe.
I make slow progress against the wind coupled with the current, finally stopping in the lee of an island for lunch, a bathroom break and a rest. The bottom photo looks across the canoe back downstream.
Where I land is too steep to camp but one small area is loaded with a variety of edible plants shown in the photos below.
Bluebells.
Saskatoon berries.
Wild mint.
Gooseberries.
Blueberries.
Pink fireweed flowers and seed pods.
Rose hips starting to ripen.
Alum root seed pods.
The evening sky viewed from camp 10 on July 13.
The canoe is parked at shore where I land to set up camp. The last stretch of river between two islands involves hard paddling against strong current and headwind. Windbound I cannot advance any farther.
It takes half hour to cut a path to camp through logs and brush. Just below the final rise to the mainland I clear spots to tie the two heavy barrels.
The tent site slopes badly but is protected from wind by a copse of spruce trees and brush. I will have to depend on folded tarp and clothes bags to help prop the mattress and a pack at the side to keep from rolling off the bed.
The Tarp shelter at the edge of bush above the tent and fireplace, facing away from shore to better protect against wind. The bottom of the Tarp is anchored to two dead spruce trees. I create a low fireplace well away from shore in an open area, keeping the ground around it well soaked during use.
After a heavy rainfall on July 14 I warm on a bed of spruce boughs next to a big fire.
Pike chowder ready to eat, July 14. The brown flesh in the centre of the pot is a piece of liver.
Fresh salad of blueberries, saskatoon berries, bluebell flowers, fireweed flowers plus seed pods. The green berries are unripe blueberries.
Dry grass used to clean filleting board and hands, better than using moss which is slower to grow to be replenished.
The narrows between my island and the next looking down the river current to a group of pelicans.
A beautiful serene view of the early morning sky on July 15, the gibbous moon high above.
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Summary:
Face strong wind all day in addition to paddling upstream on the Churchill River eventually becoming windbound after 13 kilometres travel. As I paddle up the river meet Matt, a fellow canoeist heading down current. Camp 10 is on an island right at the point where I can paddle no farther, setup taking longer than expected, so even though stopping early am in bed late. Strange encounter with a gray jay who mistakenly lands in the hot coals of my fireplace. Tent set up in the only good location but bed is tilted requiring padding and pack to keep me in place. Thankful for a welcome rain on second day which postpones moving on. Wear mask against thick smoke all day on July 15. Thinking camp is lower downstream GPS pinpoints my location as the same spot used 14 years ago. To move on I ask for a light headwind or better yet a stiff tailwind, no longer ever asking for postponement of rain.
July 13 Sunday:
Arising at 04:30, it is later than usual for a departure day because I debate on staying. Pulling boots on I go outside to check sky which looks foreboding. POI, decide to go. Leave three hours later after checking for Jeanette's satellite phone text messages: "1.No fire 4u. None anywhere on Black Bear Lake. Pisew ?contained there. 2.Pisew small in NE. Hwy165 closed. Possible fire hwy2. OK here. 3.Fire ban south of Churchill River." Moderate west wind not helpful for paddling except near my start. I soon stop for breakfast on the rock shore of a small island. Paddling on I have to quarter into the now strong west wind. A channel protects me for awhile but when reaching its south end to turn west it is a struggle against the wind for the rest of the day, at least half the day's run. When I reach the steep cliffs where there are a number of ancient Cree pictographs it is not safe to stop. I do pull along the shore but the canoe is buffeted hard against the steep rock; there is no place to dock out of the wind. Moving on against both the wind and the Churchill River current wind gusts badly and I have to make sure to stay far enough in the channel to avoid being swept into shoals or the shore. Weary from paddling against wind and current I stop for lunch on the sheltered side of a small island. Where I land has one small area loaded with a variety of edible plants (bluebells, saskatoon berries, wild mint, gooseberries, blueberries, fireweed flowers plus seed pods, rose hips starting to ripen, alum root seed pods). I eat a handful of each berry with lunch then walk up higher on the long steep slope to confirm no suitable place to camp. Paddling back downstream I turn up the other side of the island into the channel separating this isle from another. There is quite a stiff current, coupled with the wind making paddling difficult. Paddling in the opposite direction downstream towards me is another solo canoeist. Matt and I join canoes to chat for several minutes before moving on again. Sadly I allowed us to drift downstream so have to regain distance, encountering a stronger current flowing between the two islands. It is difficult to make headway and realize I cannot continue on against both current and wind. I am windbound.
Luckily there is a sheltered indentation on the other island where I paddle and pole as far into the shallows as possible, able to step out to drag the bow of the canoe onto shore without getting water above boot tops. Fortunately I find a passable campsite above. To carry gear I must cut a path through two dead fallen trees completely embedded in tall grass hiding all below where the trees' branches trip me up just trying to walk let alone hefting heavy packs. The best location for the tent is only levelish but is tucked protectively behind a small copse of spruce and brush. I think in normal water levels where I park the canoe would be under water. Later I tie the two heavy barrels beside the new path, to a birch on one side and alder on the other. The latter is rather small but the best choice; to reach it I have to cut out a lot of suckered alder. The sky still looks threatening as I set up the tent and toss in the sleep gear, other gear stored under canoe or in tent rear vestibule. I erect the Tarp shelter at the edge of bush on top of the hill above camp, facing away from shore and the west wind. There are no trees behind to tether the base of the Tarp so I drag a tall dead spruce with branches intact, cutting it in half to anchor each side, then carry two heavy boulders to hold down the trunks. On an open space below the Tarp I build a low fireplace about 30 metres from shore. The river is beneath a steep 45° slope of rock all along the campsite area. Water boiled, supper of macaroni and cheese is quickly cooked. After tying the two barrels I am in the tent to lay out gear. What with clearing a path, trimming out trees to tie barrels, creating a fireplace, finagling the anchors for the Tarp shelter having to reset ropes three times top and bottom, camp has taken longer than expected. I am definitely ready to climb into bed at 21:15.
July 14:
11°C at 05:00, it is damp and cold enough to put on heavy shirt with yesterday's still damp light shirt over top to dry by the fire. Crows all over are performing their morning cawing ritual. I slept okay despite the sideways leaning bed, propped with folded small tarp and two folded clothes bags plus Rubber Pack mid-length to prevent me from rolling off the mattress. First thing I catch a 24" pike for supper chowder, on the second cast across the current between the two islands. As often the case the catching is anticlimax to the preparation of fishing gear. Breakfast includes fresh bannock as I sit on a bed of spruce boughs by the fire. While eating, two gray jays land nearby. I toss a small piece of bannock on the ground; one jay flies down to fetch it landing on the fireplace rocks, then hopping into the hot coals! It takes off madly never getting the bannock. A strange encounter. Midmorning there is a brief rain shower, enough to sprinkle the bedding on the clothesline. After lunch I have a cold bath luckily in between several motorboats passing by, some upriver, others down. The occupants all appear to be Cree heading to or from their remote cabins. Earlier I heard the 'krrrrr' of a kingfisher along shore and during lunch one flies directly above me through the trees at camp. The sky of grey cumulus has looked threatening all morning and late afternoon there is a sudden heavy downpour. As I sit outside there is a light rain shower first which gives enough warning to get all my gear and supper grub beneath the Tarp shelter first. A Cree couple motor downstream; they are wearing raincoats with hoods up but would be getting soaked. I had cut a pole to prop up the Tarp shelter to better shed rain so have a comfortable seat to eat supper. Luckily I had cooked the chowder before the rain but the fire gets thoroughly doused so have to start a new fire to wash and dry dishes after the rain clouds blow through. Earlier I picked a variety of salad ingredients (fireweed flowers, saskatoon berries, gooseberries, blueberries, bluebell flowers). A light rain continues so I wash dishes beneath the Tarp shelter. Even in such a rain the metal dishes can be dried on the fire provided I hurry them to the shelter to finish drying while still hot. While cleaning dishes and packing gear it rains twice. I am prepacking to move on tomorrow but have a feeling I may be unpacking again in the morning. At 19:10 I am in the tent for the night and it rains twice more while updating journal and doing a puzzle. By 20:00, I go to bed in the fleece shell as I am falling asleep doing puzzles anyway. Getting chilled, it is 8°C and steady rain falls until quite late. Everything feels clammy as I eventually move into the sleeping bag to cover the bottom half of the fleece shell.
July 15:
I sit by a nice warm fire to eat breakfast, feet on damp spruce boughs which got left out in the rain yesterday, my fault for not storing them under the Tarp shelter. From my journal: "Get up at 04:30, undecided whether to pack to leave. In PJs, pull on boots and step outside. Don't know if it's to talk myself to leave or to stay. I do check for a possible place for canvas Tent if rain continues ... which is sorely needed. There is a decent spot in front of the Tarp shelter if I clear out the juniper brush. Perhaps that helps me decide to stay. Sky completely clear, beautiful gibbous moon still bright. But everything soaking wet outside tent and Tarp. POI. Stay another day. Back to bed till 05:30. Dress in two shirts. I wear a mask all day against thick smoke, very light west wind, almost calm, sun rarely visible shining orange through cloud and smoke. Start bigger than usual fire; no go first time because I do a poor job! Use almost all dry wood and birchbark under Tarp to properly start a good fire that can be added to. Take second shirt off when I sit by fire. My kingfisher krrrrr's past. Unpack all prepacked gear." At lunchtime, 20°C, weather is still good, lots of blue sky and white cumulus, light west wind. After no luck fishing at camp, I walk up the shore trying several spots until finally catching a 24" pike in a small bay containing water plants where they like to hide. I pick some fireweed flowers to accompany fish chowder for supper. When I try to mark camp 10 on the map I am confused about the proper location. To resolve where I really am I use the GPS to find that I am camped in the same place as 14 years ago as marked on my map. I have thought all along that I stopped to camp earlier, farther downstream by at least one kilometre. Camp 10 is 13 kilometres travel from the previous camp, on a small island in the Churchill River proper. From my journal: "23°C midafternoon, sitting in shade. Damn mosquitoes, sneaky, quietly announce presence by biting hand on and between fingers ... buggers!" Prepacking again, I ask for a light headwind tomorrow or better yet a tailwind which can be stronger; I no longer request postponement of rain like I used to. While I go to bed a beaver splashes a good night twice in the river near shore. From my journal: "In bed at 21:00 I am falling asleep. A motorboat stops. I barely hear a woman's voice calling. In PJs I pull on boots and walk down to shore. A Cree couple with two young children stop to see if I'm okay. Out for an evening ride, they work at a lodge on Black Bear Island Lake. I thank them for checking. Luckily I did not get any mosquitoes in the tent; remarkably I haven't had many in the tent so far this trip."