Sunrise June 17 at 04:46, Camp 1.
Photos above are of the recently burned large island just north of Camp 1.
Breakfast stop on the large island. Just inland are the remains of a cabin burned earlier this month. All that remain are the warped metal roof and some cement blocks.
Two pelicans let me approach uncommonly close, awkward looking at rest, graceful in flight.
I have made surprisingly good time so decide to continue across two portages after lunch. As I approach the landing the area was obviously burned since I was here four years ago. In my experience if the burn occurred the previous year the portage is often still in decent shape; if prior to that I may need to clear the trail or take an alternate route which would first require setting up camp, in this case probably several kilometres back.
After docking and walking the 300 metre trail I am pleased and thankful that someone with a chainsaw cleared a path through many down trees, some quite large. I only have to toss off some branches and small trees. Soon after I start portaging rain starts with thunder and lightning; one crack of thunder makes me duck ... and involuntarily yell, probably something other than my usual aie, aie, aie! I am soon soaked but manage to keep the packs mostly under the cover of the overturned canoe. The rain continues during the entire portage.
Reloading and paddling down a small lake I reach the next 80 metre portage. The beaver dam is overflowing. Unfortunately for the beavers they no longer have a food source because of the fire so the dam will not be kept up now. Water from the lake is running down the trail in addition to the nearby creek; I am already wet so slogging through the rivulet cannot make me much wetter.
Barrels ready to portage; to make it easier to hoist the load I place heavier barrels on top of lightest. The harness sits on one of the heavy barrels ready to be fastened on a barrel for carrying.
I pull the canoe down the trail, easy to do downhill on the grass and the running water.
The second portage leads to the lake where I plan to camp. Although the forest beside the lake was burned, I give thanks for the visible islands being spared, on one of which I hope to set up camp.
The two heavy barrels tied to trees as a precaution against bears. In the past I have lost a barrel to a bear so tying should at least slow down a bear enough for the bells to hopefully alert me.
Camp set up amongst sheltering spruce trees.
A stand of fireweed provides fresh salad for supper.
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Summary:
A long travel day, 22 km including two portages, 300 metres soaking wet in the rain with bothersome blackflies and 80 down a 'creek' trail. Witness one razed cabin and much burned forest, including unexpectedly at the portages. Thankfully someone cleared the longer portage and my planned camp 2 location escaped the fire. Repaired canoe is hard to hoist and carry, not a good omen. Cool nighttime temperatures are welcome. Minor wildfire smoke appears.
June 17:
Up before my 03:30 alarm I depart in good time by 06:00. Two pelicans and several mergansers see me off. Paddling past the large island I see it has all been burned, my usual campsite gone as suspected. I stop at the northeast corner for breakfast. All that is left of a nearby cabin is the fire-warped metal roof and a few blocks. While sitting on a boulder eating my meal a mouse runs across in front of me; it probably survived in the shelter of a crevice or underground. Turning over a stone shows dozens of ants; they have many holes in the ground where they too stayed safe. A few blades of grass and fireweed here and there were spared. Across the channel another even bigger island was burned; farther away on its other side is the location of Michael's island cabin that was razed. Apparently several other cabins and outfitter camps were also lost in the blaze. Farther on, the long slender island at a narrows has burned a second time in a few years, the remaining young bush all gone. A favourable tailwind continues until midway followed by a sidewind. By the time I stop for lunch at 13:30 I face a headwind and give thanks for the progress made, nearing the north end of the long Besnard Lake. Having made such good time I decide to continue on to the next lake to camp which will involve two portages. After a few kilometres of hard paddling I get close enough to the portage area to see that the bush has all burned sometime since my last visit four years ago. Having gone this far I continue to the landing to investigate. The fire was long enough ago that shrubs and grass have regrown. The burn extends as far as I can see down the west shore of Besnard Lake.
Walking the portage to see if it needs clearing I am pleased and thankful that someone with a chainsaw has cut out many big down trees. I carry my usual first load which includes tools but do not have to stop to do any clearing of the 300 metre trail. On the return trip I throw off a few branches and small trees. From my journal: "Everything sure looks different now. Hard to recognize. Starts to thunder and rain. One big crack of thunder startles me into ducking and yelling something, probably something 'bad'. First thought is I might regret portaging but not going back now with canoe unloaded and one load carried. I think my younger self took over and out-decided older self! But to give credit also said will stop for at least a three day camp to look forward to. Rain gear is in my pack at the opposite end of the portage. Oh well ... c'est la vie. Portaging makes me sweat so probably wouldn't wear rainsuit anyway. At first just a few drops, then light rain ... then a downpour and get soaked. The joy of portaging in the rain. Black flies bothersome. (Later I see many red bite marks on backs of hands. Haven't looked in mirror at my face. Blackflies were not bad enough to wear head net especially while portaging in the rain. Blackflies are sneaky and I can have many bites even under clothes without realizing.) Rains the entire first portage, about two hours. Store non-waterproof packs under canoe. Carry canoe on second trip ... while I'm 'fresh ... er'. Takes three attempts to hoist canoe. Canoe weighs four extra pounds with new ash rear thwart and three layers of epoxy coating on keel, a total of 75 lb with yoke pad and canvas portage tote. Don't know if it should make that much difference but feels heavier ... or I'm weaker. Canoe also feels unbalanced so that could also contribute."
From my journal: "Short paddle to next portage. As I approach I see all bush burned and exclaim out loud 'Sure hope the target island in the next lake was not burned.' With no food anymore for beavers they will not be here to maintain their dam near the outlet so there is a healthy trickle of overflow down the steep 80 metre trail that lies beside the creek. Feet already wet ... no problem ... I slog through the water largely hidden beneath the tall grass until several trips flatten a path. Pulling the canoe is easy downhill. When I get to the lower landing I can see green islands in the next lake but cannot see my isle yet. Reload canoe and shove off, hoping for the best. Rounding a peninsula I see my target in the distance looks good but reserve judgement till landing and checking the campsite. All good! Yay! Give thanks several times out loud. Initiate SPOT™ at 19:15, a long day and camp not set up yet. Have made good time, 22 km including two portages, 300 metres in the rain and 80 down a 'creek' trail. Thank goodness didn't have to canoe farther to find another campsite. Have to clear a few down trees to tent site. Blackflies still bothersome, worse cause I'm rain-soaked and sweaty. Have been drinking water often using LifeStraw®. Tent up, gear stored in tent or under canoe, two heavy barrels tied to trees. Toss sleep gear into tent plus unassembled chair. Remove wet clothing and gear, open windows. Lay out bedding, having to fill one bad dip underneath with small folded tarp. After ablutions don PJs; dry clothes feel so good. Eat supper, drinking most of the 500 mL canteen. Use headlamp sparingly as required. In bed by 22:30, I sleep well, in fleece shell until early morning when I climb into sleeping bag. Only minor leg cramps during the night so must have been drinking enough water."
June 18:
Arising at 06:30 I have slept in and feel great. Temperature was 12°C last night, now 15°C and cloudy as I eat breakfast. My jeans are drying but still damp at bottoms and beltline. Boots are wet but drying with fresh socks on. After rinsing wet socks, handkerchief and bandana I hang them on clothesline to dry along with some other gear in the sunshine and brisk east wind which keeps up all day. Damp packs and barrel harness are laid out in the sun and are dry by midafternoon. Underfoot there are winter droppings of woodland caribou and moose. Loons are calling nearby and a small shorebird flits along shore. A pileated woodpecker is loudly drilling a nearby tree. While I sit out of direct sun on a layer of green spruce branches under the Tarp, the small spiders that live there crawl all over me, annoyingly including up pantlegs; when I drop my jeans to brush them off ants too are keeping them company. I feel bad for the spiders but they will find new homes in other spruce trees. By midafternoon I have finished updating my journal and put dry gear away. Paddling the long distance yesterday, one stroke per second for several hours at a time leaves my neck stiff and sore; I pledge to do neck exercises every day at lunch and bedtime to see if they help. In the past I would take the anti-inflammatory naproxen but it only provided short term relief and made me feel wonky. (Follow-up: Doing the exercises daily this season seems to do the trick, much better than drugs. The exercises need to be done faithfully even when not sore.) Before supper I hang my clothes on the line and have a much-needed bath out of the wind on the west side of the island where the hot sun feels good. Clothes have finally all dried but boots are still damp. Now I take witness of my blackfly bites inflicted on yesterday's portage, about 10 red spots on the back of each hand and five on my forehead. Tired already at 18:40 I head to bed. From my journal: "Busy day, busy week!"
June 19:
Before I arise at 07:30 after a good sleep there is a nice gentle rain making the ground wet; we need a lot more. A cool 12°C night again, in the sleeping bag by morning. By late afternoon temperature rises to 23°C and I have another bath. The shade under the Tarp is much appreciated as I update journal and complete a number of puzzles. From my journal: "Thinking of moving on tomorrow though not looking forward to the long portage of almost one kilometre. Hopefully it's in decent shape. Right now though falling asleep as I sit so another day here may be warranted." Flies are bothersome especially under the Tarp, housefly-sized and smaller. The wind now switches to the west bringing light smoke. There were no major fires west of here when I left home so hope there is nothing significant locally; smoke could be from Alberta or British Columbia. After supper I decide to prepack with plans to move on tomorrow.