Sunrise through smoke July 19 (04:58 - 05:23) before leaving camp 11. I wear mask all day.
Heading upstream on the Churchill River through Silent Rapids, fortunately able to paddle up along the right shore after two failed attempts. I try using the spare paddle better suited for poling but it is not streamlined enough for good paddling. As it turns out I need an efficient paddle propelled with very fast strokes to master the current but still having to push off a few boulders, hoping not to get the thinner blade stuck between rocks.
Looking back down Silent Rapids as two pelicans soar overhead. The more distant one is just above the trees near the right side of the photo.
Paddling above Silent Rapids. After breaking free from the current I stop at a rock point for breakfast, supervised by six nearby pelicans and two loons. The canoe is held in place by the painters tied to stones.
Turning west to paddle in the channel between mainland on the left and a large island on the right, brown tree skeletons everywhere.
I stop for lunch on the other side of a long totally razed slender peninsula seen through thick smoke, the water thick with dead mayflies.
Moving on in very poor visibility due to smoke, dependent on map and compass to steer in the correct direction.
Midafternoon I am looking for an island campsite, having checked numerous isles. Some can be rejected by just paddling along shore, others I land to investigate, this large island being one of them where I look at three different spots. The one end of the island is guarded by 'Snoopy'.
After checking even more islands, all too 'mountainous', I eventually give in to camping at Needle Falls portage. It is not ideal because of the many bear attractant holes where boiling hot cooking oil for frying fish has been discarded. Bears will keep coming back to such places for years, even after no more dumping.
July 20 sunrise through dense smoke.
The edible yellow flowers of golden rod.
The severe winds at camp 11 started to pull out one grommet of the Tarp shelter. Duct tape applied to both sides is an effective repair. I find CanTech® brand tape (manufactured in Canada) is the best permanent type repair material with good stickability, better than other brands tested.
The forest in the area is largely poplar and alder brush. It takes half hour to clear an area to raise the Tarp shelter. There is no place to situate it near the fireplace.
A view from the lake showing the exposed nature of the campsite. I am canoeing to fish below the rapids, hoping for walleye, but landing pike. Both are good eating fish, the former fattier, tastier fried, though I prefer pike for chowder.
The falls and rapids are populated by dozens of American white pelicans. Their droppings are equally white, staining the rock shore. Just as I am to take a photo of them all perched in the rapids they notice me and take to the sky.
A patch of stinging nettles by the rapids. They are edible if steamed or boiled to tame the prickly leaves and stems, tastiest when green spring plants; I usually do not bother harvesting them, instead focusing on other edibles needing no preparation.
Video and audio of terrible flies of all sizes, dozens on and around me, flying into my face, landing on my sweaty stained jeans worn now for five weeks.
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Summary:
On third attempt manage to paddle up Silent Rapids, falling back downstream the first two times. Again wear mask against smoke whose poor visibility requires use of map and compass. Everywhere I pass is brown with burned bush, some oases of green islands. Check multiple isles for a campsite with no luck. See the only bear of the trip. Finally camp at Needle Falls portage which unfortunately has bear attractants of discarded cooking oil and little shade. Many pelicans in the rapids of Needle Falls and even more on a shoal out in the lake. Prepack and pre-portage some gear to move on upstream in hopes of finding better campsite. Flies terrible, on me in the dozens, buzzing incessantly, mercilessly bumping into me all over including my face, illustrated with video. Camp 12 is beside the portage at Needle Falls on the Churchill River after travelling upstream 16 kilometres including three rapids (one 500 metres, the others 100 metres each) plus an extra six kilometres fruitlessly searching for an island campsite (a total of 22 kilometres).
July 19:
From my journal: "Up at 03:30. Not feeling good, bad indigestion. Take four TUMS®. Pack gear inside tent. When I go outside I feel worse. Heave up the TUMS®, thank goodness nothing else. Feel much better after that. Probably result of the shortening used to fry walleye supper last evening." After breaking the hold of the east rapids current it does not take long to paddle upstream to Silent Rapids. Wearing mask against dense smoke I pass by brown burned bush as far as the eye can see. Stopping at the rapids I walk up the right shore of big rock and large boulders. The rapids look doable but may have to line and wade a bit. I often use the spare paddle in water where I may have to pole against the bottom but give up here because it does not grip the water well for paddling. On the first attempt I have to let the canoe go back, turning completely around and having to exit into the eddy along shore and paddle back again. The second time I get farther upstream but veer out into stronger current and have to ease backwards again. The third time I use long strong fast strokes and manage to break free of the rapids' pull, occasionally having to push off the bottom rocks, thankfully not getting the thin blade stuck between rocks. Two paddlers together would not have any problem paddling with no need to push off the bottom. Paddling upstream far enough to be sure not to get pulled back I stop on the opposite bank at a jutting rock point for breakfast. There is a spared small copse of green where there is one decent tent site. I eat breakfast in the shade on steep rock above shore. Moving on to the channel below a large island, all has been burned except many smaller isles escaped. Calm, very smoky I wear a mask all day. For lunch I stop at an island where there is a patch of rock shore. I walk up a short rise and inland to the shade of the bush where I sit gently on a fallen log suspended like a teeter-totter, gently because it could break at any moment. There is a levelish area for a tent site, as it turns out the only suitable island campsite all day. Later I even consider returning to camp here. Paddling on against a strong headwind hopefully it will clear the smoke a bit. For several hours the visibility has been so poor that without map and compass and knowing how to use them would be hard to know where to head. Paddling on to pass a big island I am surprised to find a strong current for its entire length of at least half kilometre, steady paddling the whole way. About half way up I see a black bear ambling towards me, checking out nooks and crannies for a meal. It heads inland into bush out of sight either because it detects me although I am downwind or because it has followed the shore far enough. Finally I break free of the stiff current but not until past the second long point jutting into the lake. Looking for a smaller island campsite I am not sure where to go. The large isle to the left that borders the other side of the channel I just ascended has been all burnt. Paddling on I stop to check four islands and eyeball many others, all too 'mountainous'. Often even in such situations there are at least indentations adequate for camping but no such luck. A long isle close to Needle Falls looks low and promising from a distance but closer not so much, stopping at one location but again too steep and too high up.
Giving in I finally paddle to the portage at the falls, deciding to camp here. From my journal: "At first think I could set up at a very exposed spot directly beside the portage if necessary. But as usual ... check everything! Follow trail to next lake, a short easy sloping path, later stepped to 120 metres, at least 20 metres longer than usual due to low water levels. There is an area branching off towards the end of the peninsula at the falls, but farther than would want to base camp. Back to the canoe I spot a trail heading down the peninsula. Follow it 30 metres to a largish grassy area with a fireplace. At least four holes used over the years to pour boiling cooking oil, a bad place for camping because it attracts bears for years, even long after no more is discarded." There is a nearby spot for Tarp shelter but far removed from the fireplace. The only spot for the tent is close to the fireplace and directly exposed to the lake. The landing at the portage is stony and shallow, canoe close to shore. Unloading from the stern I carry gear to camp then park canoe on shore storing the usual gear beneath. The entire peninsula has a few large poplar trees but most of it saplings along with brush of willow, alder and a few small spruce. There are two large diamond willow bushes to tie the heavy barrels. First I have to cut out many small suckers and dead branches in order to tie to the remaining trunks, one dead but solid. Beside taller brush behind the fireplace I set up the tent and store gear; at least the bushes provide some protection on one side. Carrying stones from shore I make sure to anchor all the tent pegs against wind. I have already lit a fire and water is boiled. After a quick supper I am in bed by 21:30, no Tarp shelter erected. Weary and tired, a long frustrating day in the fruitless search for an island campsite. Of course ... my bed slopes, not just in one direction but two ways. Camp 12 is beside the portage at Needle Falls on the Churchill River after travelling 16 kilometres (including upstream two 100 metre and one 500 metre rapids) plus an extra six kilometres fruitlessly searching for an island campsite (a total of 22 kilometres).
July 20:
From my journal: "Up by 05:30 after a night in another sloped bed, down but also sideways! Seems to be the norm. Small tarp and two folded clothes bags help level the side of the mattress, pack halfway down keeps me in place. Chilled by morn, 12°C and very humid." There is a ruby red sunrise until the sun is much higher in the sky. A heavy dew with hopes of just mist in the air are denied as smoke lingers so wear mask. An extra shirt, hot water with breakfast and sitting by the warming fire feels good. To set up the Tarp shelter first takes half hour to cut out dozens of small poplars to make room. There is a large poplar to anchor one side of the Tarp, a dead spruce the other. After loading the canoe I paddle 500 metres to the falls to fish, hopefully for walleye. I could walk from camp but do not like to leave grub at camp while I am so far away. There are well over 30 pelicans standing on boulders and ledges in the falls. Much more than that number are on a shoal out on the lake. Casting from shore at the side of the falls I keep a 29" pike after letting three go thinking to catch walleye with no luck. One pelican is in the middle of the outlet rapids obviously catching and eating prey, dipping its head under the water repeatedly, raising bill to swallow; they mainly eat small fish, but also other water life like tadpoles and crayfish. American white pelicans are large birds and need to eat a lot of food. After filleting the pike beside the falls, on return to camp I portage the canoe and some gear to the upper end of the portage. I would normally stay another day but want to move to a better campsite, one with shade and no cooking oil holes. Planning to move on tomorrow I get out a map for the next water body, Sandfly Lake. I am well off my planned route so unfortunately only have the 1:250,000 scale map instead of more detailed 1:50,000 maps. Lunch is eaten in the Bug Tent under the Tarp shelter providing the only shade available, 30°C, no clothes on, after much needed bath. From my journal: "Sweat soaked clothes hang on the Tarp ropes. Flies have been terrible as they have been most days lately, flies of all sizes. On me in the dozens, not biting but buzzing incessantly, mercilessly bumping into me all over including my face. They are worse when I am sweaty. Doesn't help when I have worn the same clothes for five weeks." Thank goodness by suppertime at 17:05 the flies seem to have retired for the night. Cooler at 26°C I eat fish chowder in partial shade at the end of the tent away from the heat of the fireplace. By 19:35, 21°C, after prepacking I sit in a refreshing breeze off the lake. Having not worn mask since lunch, smoke is visible well above the horizon but I cannot smell it as I retire to bed.