June 2 at 06:02, canoe loaded ready to leave camp 1.
The landscape along the way continues to be brown from last year's wildfire.
Rest stop at a completely burned island. New growth has emerged quickly beneath the dead trees (mostly pines along with a few birch trees).
All of the plants displayed below are common after fire.
Pink corydalis, pretty but poisonous.
Fireweed, a widespread edible provides a tasty salad.
Raspberry, edible fresh leaves.
Bicknell's geranium. Edible pink flowers will blossom later. The leaves are edible but bitter.
Common horsetail. Edible in small quantities, otherwise poisonous destroying thiamine (vitamin B1).
Moving farther up a long channel paddling through last year's growth of wild rice, which is thick enough in places to impede the motion of the paddle and canoe.
An active beaver lodge. The beavers' food source is sparse after the fire. I see many abandoned lodges.
Upon entering Head Lake I am concerned that there may be no good campsites. The strong quartering wind has pushed me so that by 14:00 I have travelled 18 km. I am fortunate to find a small green island but the near side does not appear to be favourable. On rounding to the far side I see one area that is somewhat open and looks promising. However the wind is sweeping along and into shore with 18 inch waves. I have a few false landing attempts forcing me to paddle like mad to avoid crashing into the rock shore. Finally I manage to back into an opening between boulders, hop out getting soaked to midthigh barely keeping from falling. I pull the canoe in far enough to start unloading.
As I unload I carry gear to a somewhat clear spot showing streaks of sunshine through thick bush where I turn packs wet side up. Continuing to pull the canoe in as I lighten the load I finally manage to empty the canoe. There is a large volume of water in the canoe splashed inside while landing.
I give a sigh of relief as I pull the canoe fully on shore to tip out the water.
Camp space is limited, just enough to erect tent and small tarp and to have a fireplace.
The next day I resituate the tarp to be closer to the fireplace. In order to provide enough room I prune some spruce branches behind the tarp. Because the area has a lot of otter scat where fish are brought ashore to eat I use the branches to layer over top of the waste.
First bannock baked in camp.
View across the lake to the far burned shore.
On June 4 I canoe to the distant shore to locate and check the first portage of the trip. As usual when leaving camp I take some gear including the kitchen barrel and food pack to protect from bears. The two other barrels are tied to trees (to hopefully slow down a bear).
Looking back to camp 2. To the left side of shore is where I landed the canoe on June 2 made difficult by strong wind and waves. The large boulder on shore in the centre is the one where I dip water at its side while bracing against the boulder to keep from sliding down the slippery slope into the lake. Filling the bailer and large pot is frustrated by the waves so can only get them half full.
Approaching the far shore to check for the portage. In front of the shore is a long slender island devastated by the fire as is the mainland.
To the left of the island is the location where according to the topographic map there is a long trail but not evident when I land. A melted fire hose frames the remnants of a burned cabin.
The mouth of Pine Brook entering Head Lake.
One old portage to the right side of the creek obviously very boggy and wet. I hope there is a better option.
Moving farther to the right past the long island I locate the best portage. I try backing into shore but the flotsam of last year's reeds is too thick to allow me to land so I drive the canoe as far as possible bow first and clamber over the load. After stepping into the water I pull the canoe onshore. Note the SPOT™ Satellite Messenger device in the left foreground that I signal my contacts to let them know I have moved away from camp. I signal again upon returning to camp.
The trail is a good one requiring no clearing except to throw off a few branches and small trees.
Dandelions along the portage that I harvest for supper salad.
Aluminum motorboats all ruined with large melted holes by last year's wildfire except for one survivor.
Video of thousands of freshly "hatched" (molted) mayflies thick in the air at camp. They live as adults a short time to mate in the air, laying eggs on the water surface before dying. The whine of so many wings in the air cannot be heard in the video over the sound of waves hitting shore.
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Summary:
Strong tailwind pushes me 18 km to Head Lake, passing brown burned landscape all the way. Lucky to find a green island campsite but wind and waves make for a bumpy wet scary landing requiring several attempts soaking me and the canoe. Cross the lake to find the first portage to Pine Brook, a round trip of three km, pleased to find a clear level trail. At the portage there are several aluminum motorboats, big holes melted in them by last years wildfire. Find the remains of a burned cabin.
June 2:
Up to alarm and strong east wind at 03:00 it is much cooler than yesterday. Passing several cottages I head up Miller Channel towards the Head Lake target driven by a strong tailwind, sometimes a quartering sidewind. Passing by widespread brown landscape I stop for a break at one of several burned islands. I have not seen any possible campsites. Anytime I stop paddling I soon am chilled in the strong wind. Today the wind is so strong that I would not be able to paddle against it. Keeping an eye out for a campsite, the only green is a small island in the distance in Head Lake. As I progress towards it I also see some green on the south shore mainland. If possible I prefer an island camp to help lessen the chance of black bear encounters. The island has no discernable campsites on the near side. On the other side the wind pushes me fast as it throws waves up on shore. From my journal: "I see a small open area. Beggars can't be choosers. I have to back out as the waves push me abruptly into shore, banging the side of the canoe badly against boulders and shipping more water. Throughout the day the wind occasionally splashed waves into the canoe where there were big swells with waves at least 18 inches high. I paddle hard backwards still getting banged against the rock shore which is slick and wet. Somehow I manage to turn the canoe stern first a few metres before the open space into a narrow opening between boulders. Nothing to do but to 'carefully' step into water on the sloping rock, easier said than done while canoe is jostled up, down, sideways with waves coming over the gunwale. Soaked above the knees I somehow stay mostly upright to pull the canoe stern first into the 'notch' between boulders. Once on land I haul the canoe farther, stumbling as I have been in the canoe for several hours and am a bit stiff. Have to drag canoe between and across small birch and spruce saplings. Now I can start unloading, pulling the canoe farther inland as the load lightens. Finally! ... canoe fully on land and empty except for a large volume of water. Carry gear along slant above shore, over a few large boulders to start drying in strong wind and a bit of sun shaded by thick tree cover." The area has been camped in a long time before, witness remnants of a small fireplace and some plastic and metal garbage which I later burn or bury. I land at 14:00 having made excellent time going the 18 km. I give thanks for safe journey and landing and for a decent campsite. After wet gear hung or laid out to dry I eat a late lunch. There is a somewhat levelish spot for the tent but no space for the large Tarp. The only safe place to fetch water is by stepping down the sloping rock shore to a large boulder at water's edge. I have to brace myself with one hand against the boulder and lean around its edge to dip the bailer into the water while large waves bash ashore, getting my boots and lower legs wet each time. The saving grace is they cannot get any wetter. It is a challenge to submerge the bailer to get it full of water so have to be satisfied with half at a time; the water surface keeps changing with the waves. An acceptable low fireplace created by carrying stones from inland, I place pots to boil. After lunch I set up the tent. Dithering on the decision I set up the small tarp beside the tent. I have to trim some spruce and balsam fir branches and small trees to make room for tent and tarp, providing boughs to place under tarp and near fireplace. There is a lot of otter scat on shore where they bring fish to eat so the branches cover my working areas. In bed by 20:45, ablutions done it feels good to don dry long underwear pajamas and to lay down. Boots, insoles and pantlegs are wet. Socks are soaked so no hanging them in tent to dry as I usually do; I will rinse them tomorrow and hang all day outside to dry. It is cool so I climb into the fleece shell right away, a marked difference from yesterday's mid 30°C temperatures. Tired, I sleep well.
June 3:
Sleeping in until 06:30, 14°C, it is damp and cool after last night's rain. I am cold; wet pantlegs and damp shirt do not help. My heavy shirt under the light one feels much better. First on the agenda is rinsing yesterday's soaking wet socks at lake's edge, easier now because the wind and waves have subsided. Thank goodness for the large boulder that I can lean on; otherwise there is no safe way to approach the water because of the sloping rock which has not dried yet. A warming fire feels good as I sit on spruce boughs nearby for breakfast. I can see and hear the whine of wings of a cloud of mayflies flying high in the air beside the lake. By noon the temperature is still a cool 15°C. Until the sun moves to the west there is little sunshine filtering through the thick bush. To move the small tarp close to the fireplace I trim branches from spruce and balsam fir trees which will serve as a clean mat underneath. It takes several adjustments of supporting ropes to situate the tarp properly. From my journal: "Sitting on the boughs under the tarp looking out across the lake to the west. Now can see the long slender isle near the far shore shown on the map, completely burned as is the mainland behind. Move closer to fire and add more wood. Merganser flies by skimming the lake surface. Crows raucously calling earlier. Flies buzz around me. Only a few mosquitoes and blackflies, an intro to the later onslaught. When I dressed this morn I finally found my red handkerchief. It was in shirt pocket where it should be! Last eve when I retired to the tent I couldn't find it. No clothes on, pulled on boots to go outside to search. Muttered to myself 'Lost sunglasses. Did I lose red handkerchief too? Aie!' (I carry two handkerchiefs, one blue, one red to alternate after rinsing the in-use one.)" After lunch I update my journal and maps. By late afternoon temperature rises to 20°C, sunny and mostly clear except at horizons. Laying on the bed by 20:00, an hour later I wake shivering, pull on pajamas and climb into the fleece shell. It has been a busy two days so look forward to stay another day to rest and to investigate the first portage of the trip.
June 4:
Up at 04:15 to a cool 15°C I dress in an extra shirt. Paddling one km across Head Lake to the south of the long island I land at a clear area to find the wreckage of a burned cabin. It looks like someone may have tried to fight the fire, a burned hose in the foreground. I try to spot the long trail marked on the map heading west with no luck. Moving on I canoe into the outlet of the creek named Pine Brook on the map. Fast water is flowing out through several openings in thick willow brush. From my journal: "Wonder if could wade up? Not interested personally!" Paddling farther north along shore I am escorted by several pairs of small nondescript ducks. Before I reach the long island I spot indistinct evidence of perhaps the shorter portage trail across very wet ground. Moving on towards the burned island I see what at first looks like canoes far along the south mainland shore, but no paddle flashes, all white, I think probably pelicans which later prove to be swans Past the island, keeping close to mainland shore I keep an eye out for another portage until I see the remnants of a board dock on shore. Landing I walk through burned bush until I encounter a definite trail extending west, grassy, well open. Heading towards the trail I encounter a large flat board deck beside which is some stacked firewood; it is about 100 metres inland from Head Lake and would hold several tents. Obviously I landed short of the trail, just a few metres farther along shore. Walking all the way to Pine Brook I throw off the occasional fallen branch and small tree, stark black trunks of bush all round. The path is wide, grassy, clear and mostly level. At the wide creek there are several overturned aluminum motorboats all ruined with large melted holes by last year's wildfire except for one survivor. Making my way back to the canoe I paddle to the start of the portage, a wet hole near shore which I fill with cleared brush to enable carrying loads. There is a two-wheeled cart with fiberglass body that has been used to carry gear on the portage. Tire pressure is good. It is overturned in a pool of water. I upright it and will likely use it to portage my gear. Eating breakfast at 07:15 sitting on the bow of my canoe I am pleased to find such a good trail. There are a few bothersome blackflies and mosquitoes. Obviously people motorboat to the trail and portage gear and motors to Pine Brook to use the parked boats. The trail is probably also used by snowmachines in winter. Back at camp after the round trip of three km I make this year's first bannock; up to now I have eaten bannock baked at home. Midday it is 18°C, light breeze, mostly sunny with some white cumulus. Putting gun and large Tarp back in tent several mosquitoes enter so I light the first mosquito coil of the trip. Late afternoon I have a much needed refreshing bath in the sun. The sloping shore is now dry but I enter the water slowly and crouched to minimize the risk of falling. After catching up on my journal and doing two puzzles I prepack for moving on tomorrow, then to bed.