Smoke Lake to Parkside Bay

July 15-16, 2017
# of portages: 2
Total portage distance: 480m
Total distance: 23.4km
Video Log:

Sometimes you can only get out for a night, and sometimes that’s all you really need. Just one day in the sun, where you can go swimming and fishing without a care in the world except when to eat dinner.

Shane gets ready to head across Smoke Lake

Such was the case this weekend. Between work and life, it looks like I won’t be able to head out on a properly organized trip from until (gulp) September, so I fit this in when the opportunity arose. Joining me was Shane, my wife Gwyn, and our little dog Ginny. This wouldn’t just be the dogs first time camping, but her first time in a canoe at all! We were decidely excited and a bit nervous as we unloaded gear from out car at the Smoke lake put in.

Smoke lake is a gigantic, one of the biggest bodies of water I’ve had to paddle in Algonquin so far. We were lucky that it was water, calm, and inviting as we pushed off from the boat launch which services the cottages that dot the lake. I should also note here, before I go any further, that while picking up permits at the park office I was recognized again from my Youtube videos and postings on the Algonquin Adventure forums. It’s always a treat to see that people actually look at these ramblings, if you see an off-red canoe with an Ewok on the front, feel free to say hi!

Ginny isn’t entirely sure about canoeing, but she likes boats!

Anyways, back to Smoke Lake. We paddled south, with Gwyn wrangling the dog (who was doing fine in her new experience), and Shane soloing his long red canoe. The portage was initially steep but well-trodden going up about 3 flights worth of stairs in the first 100m. Once you’re over the hill, you’re basically at the beach head of Ragged Lake.

Ragged Lake is a very pretty, medium-sized lake of many bays. There are islands made of sand, as well of granite, large open sites and tiny camps stuck up a hill. With the ease of access, I’d say it’s slightly less well-used than the Joe lake system north of Canoe lake. We careened gently past people making breakfast on coolers and took pleasure in the warm sun. Near Crown Bay, there was a system of submerged logs and stumps, showing just how high the water used to be before the dam, it is easy to navigate through these days though.

Heading north towards Parkside Bay

As we rounded north again up a small channel to Parkside Bay, the wind had started to funnel down into our faces. This made life difficult for Shane, spinning his canoe round in circles as he tried to get out of the lee. Gwyn and I wound up tying the nose of his canoe to the back of ours, using our weight and keels (the Ewok has 3!) to keep his boat from catching the wind too badly. We were quickly into Parkside Bay, and grabbed the first site that looked nice.

Parkside Bay

Our site had a large beach area to lounge around on, while the firepit, cooking, and sleeping areas were tucked back up a berm in the woods. In the shoulder seasons it would be nice to be able to stay out of the weather, but this weekend we spent most of the time out on the beach, lazing around. We fished, made silly videos, and I think the main goal was to relax. The dog did cute dog stuff.

Designated dog, does cute dog stuff

As night started to fall, Shane and I had to head out into the steady wind from the west and try to grab some good firewood. We spotted a pile of driftwood that promised tempting spoils, so we went to investigate. We settled on a rather large log that had washed ashore and quickly dumped it in the canoe to start processing at the campsite.

Dinner that night was a Shane Souter special. Potatoes baked in coals, with a delightful mix of baked beans and ground beef on top. Being as we were all very tired and hungry, it was a great meal. I was very tired by this point. I hadn’t spent so much time in the sun all year, and was ready for bed as soon as the sun went down. Shane and Gwyn stayed up a little bit longer, but I was asleep by 10:30 which is very rare for me. We knew we wanted to be up early, as there was nasty weather forecast for the next day.

Human, I’m ready to go home!

Sunday morning was surprisingly glorious. The lake was glassy still and the sun was up but not hot. It was one of the few times we could pack everything up in the dry too, which was nice (hadn’t really had that luxury since the hike-in trip to Maple Leaf lake). We didn’t even take time for breakfast, just a few hot drinks, and were on the water by around 9:15. This meant we felt the need to push the pace and race to the car before rain and lightening stranded us somewhere.

We were amazed as we plodded back through Ragged Lake, that the whole lake seemed to have filled up. Every nook and cranny was filled with rental gear, Canadian Tire tents, and 3-seat canoes which looked like clown cars as they tried to make their way across open water. Luckily, there wasn’t too much boat traffic and we were through the portage with nary a traffic jam to be had.

Our site stretched pretty far down the lake

Making our way back across Smoke lake was a slog. It’s around 5.5km, but you can see the whole way to the access point. The dog wasn’t whining like she had on the way in, resigned to her fate as a canoe-dog, and we set out eager to get some food. About two-thirds of the way down the lake, the rain started to pitter-patter around us, but it was mostly to a scattered shower. We made it to the very busy access point around 11:30 and tired. Running that far with no calories really took it out of us. Avoiding the summer camps taking canoe after canoe off of trailers and buses, we packed up and were quickly on the road.

It was a pretty good weekend despite the mad dash to the finish. Gwyn really doesn’t like lightning and if the wind picked up like it had on Saturday, Shane would have struggled across the big water on Smoke, so there was no real indecision or regret to get out ASAP. All together, it was a great trip to a part of the park we haven’t been before. Ginny the dog slept for days afterwards.

theTWOfour 2017 – Tim River to Big Bob Lake

May 20-22, 2017
# of portages: 8
Total portage distance: 4550m
Total distance: 16.4km
Video Log:

The Tim River put-in

This year I made an executive decision regarding the May 24 weekend to take the crew to Algonquin park again. The 24 is always a big deal, so I made sure to find a good trout lake and decided on Big Bob Lake, a part of the park none of us had been to before and close enough to the Nipissing River that I could almost guarantee brook trout.

Heading out into sunshine

 

As always with an west-side launch, we staged from Rancho Relaxo, gathering there Friday night to re-distribute gear among various bags. We learned early Saturday morning (~2am) that we would be down a paddler and had to cram many things into small packs and leave things behind. It also meant I’d be paddling solo, which wasn’t too bad I suppose, but it meant more work for all of us. We woke up early on Saturday morning and managed to get things as packed up as we could before heading to the new Rise and Grill in Kearney while I grabbed permits down the road. After slamming back a great breakfast we toddled down the road to the Tim River access point. The road was in great shape and there was plenty of parking available to us.

Adam and Shane on Chibiabos lake

We set out around 9:30am feeling good. Bryan and Colin were in Bryan’s H20, Shane and Adam in Shane’s Kipawa, and I was soloing the Ewok into a light breeze. Finding the first yellow sign of the day, the awkwardness of the initial portage set in. Everyone was shaking off rusty shoulders and figuring out how to best carry the gear. Shane and Adam were having a lot of trouble with the food barrel and Shane’s pack, so they wound up double portaging into Chibiabos lake a 345m walk with a steep climb on the Tim Lake side. We passed a crew which said they were staying on Big Bob as well, and that lit a fire under us to get there and secure a preferred site.

Putting into Big Bob after a 790m portage

Chibiabos is a great little lake, with two sheltered and secluded sites. I’m definitely going back there, maybe for a late-season trip to hunt for trout. The next portage started at a dock at the far side of the lake and took us 320m over a logging road which was a first for all of us. Staring at Indian Pipe lake we had a bit of water and kept pushing to our next walk. We figured the next portage was just about 1500m with a little pond to paddle across in the middle. Although these are “low-maintenance” black line portages, they were in good shape. Little in the way of blow-downs and well trodden, there are red line portages that aren’t in such good shape at this time of year. The two longer portages were unremarkable, and I single-carried them without needing a break.

Heading west towards our site (on the far point)

We sent Bryan and Colin ahead on Big Bob to scope sites while I went back and helped those struggling with the food barrel. The obvious site is one the eastern-most part of the lake, straight out from the portage. High up on a rock, we saw Bryan looking pensive as we made our way over. Apparently the site is a bit small, and all the tent pads were in bowls which would fill with the rain predicted on the second day. Also, the wind was coming out of the east and the site would get none of that, which would mean the bugs would destroy us (although they were remarkably good so far). We were very far ahead of the crew chasing us, and decided to look elsewhere on the lake for a site.

Hard at work around the site

With the wind going with us westward, I decided paddling was for chumps and deployed my ground tarp as a sail, cruising to the west end of the lake in luxury. The southern site looked really overgrown and buggy in the forest, so we bet it all on the far peninsula site on the west end of the lake. It turned out to be worth the gamble, as the site caught a breath of wind, was spacious yet protected, and had a wealth of firewood and trees to hang tarps from. In the heat of a Saturday afternoon, we set up camp and had some lunch. We puttered the afternoon away, gathering firewood, exploring the area, and I hung out in a new hammock I got from my wife for Christmas. We tried fishing during the day to no avail, but as evening descended on the lake and the mayflies came out, we managed to hook some trout from both shore and the canoe (which was awesome). Dinner was kabobs on the fire, and we ate like kings because we were a man short but kept the portions allotted to him. As we fell asleep, there was a light breeze picking up.

Fishing luck on the first night

Sunday could only be characterized as a rainy day. We managed to get up early as the rains were just starting up and patchy, getting breakfast cooked and coffee in us between showers. We passed the time idly. There were various construction projects, including a useful table for cooking dinner under the tarp. The fire was kept alight and hot with a rock overhange/roof system. I napped through the worst of the wind and rain, staying warm and dry in my sleeping bag. The tarps held fast, a fact that amazed me as the main tarp was my old, melty, not-entirely-waterproof, green and brown one. The old girl held up remarkably well! The wind and rain toned down around dinner time and we managed to have a half-decent night around the fire, only occasionally retreating a few feet away to the dry security of the tarp. We went to bed with rain lightly battering our tarps and tents.

Enduring the rain

The next morning I was awoken by the hard flapping of the tarp over my tent. The wind had shifted 180 degrees (into our face again for most of the paddle, yay), and I quickly roused to get coffee and pancakes going before any sort of storm might come in.  We packed up as best we could again, keeping the wet stuff separate and dry stuff dry, then head out up Big Bob lake. I’d like to say the portages back were uneventful, and they WERE mercifully well drained, but I went on a little adventure on my own.

Nothing else to do on a rainy day, might as well build something

With Adam and Shane continuing to struggle with fitment of the barrel harness in Shane’s yoke, I offered to help them double carry while Bryan and Colin went on ahead (no sense in waiting around and getting bug bites). On the portage from Indian Pipe to Chibiabos lake, I told the crew behind me (Shane/Adam) I didn’t want to block up the dock end of the portage and would see them on the trail to Tim Lake. I also gave Adam my pack in exchange for the barrel which I could manage better. With them behind me getting ready to get out of Indian Pipe, I took to the trail, huffing and puffing. Turns out I didn’t see a fork in the trail and wound up about 300m past where I was supposed to turn, making life a bit panicky as I picked my way back. Shane/Adam were nowhere to be seen, assuming I had hauled ass to Tim Lake. So I was now behind everyone, while the people in front of me thought they were lagging behind. I rolled through the last portage as fast as possible, only to discover on of my sandals had slipped its Velcro and I needed to do the portage again! Luckily I found it half-in Chibiabos, but on my way back nature called forth the might of the dinner from the night before. With nothing but a sandal in my hand, I had to fashion toilet paper out of carefully selected foliage and headed way off the trail behind a large stump to do my business. Lighter and with all my gear accounted, I set out into Tim Lake with no sight of any of my compatriots. I was WAY behind, and knew I had to make up time because they would worry I had flipped or gotten eaten by a bear or something. Now, though, I was fully headed into a increasingly strong wind. As I headed up the Tim river, the wind barreled down the canyon into my face and sleet started to numb my hands. I was very happy to see the take out, and my friends were relieved they didn’t need to come rescue my dumb ass.

Adios Big Bob.  Pictured: Shanes’ wind-block shelter & Bryans’ table

We packed up quickly, and headed down the trail, saying goodbye and discussing what to next year. Adam took home the Chewbakka Bigfish Trophy for catching his first brook trout, and we were all satisfied that the work of portaging was worth the reward. Although the weather didn’t cooperate, we still had a great time.

The Big Bob 5

Delano Lake

May 13-14, 2017
# of portages: 4
Total portage distance: 2220m
Total distance: 10.5km
Video log:

 

This year was one of the latest I had left heading into the bush, probably because the winter camping trip in February helped keep the cabin fever off. Shane and I were hoping to get a site at famed trout fishery Hilliard Lake off of Cache, but it was booked so we went one more lake deep to Delano Lake.

Our first look at Hilliard Lake

As usual, we spent Friday at Shane’s place in Kearney, and the forecast spelled rain in big bold letters. We looked online and saw that someone had booked into the site for Friday night, and being the only site on Delano, we opted to have a nice breakfast before heading out at a leisurely pace. We didn’t want a repeat of last year, being forced to wait and watch people pack up for an hour or two in the rain.

Hilliard Lake portage exit

Unloading the car at Cache lake, we had a reprieve from the drizzle we drove through on Hwy 60 and decided to head out immediately. We were happy to be out in no wind, minimal rain, and warm-ish air. It was a simple paddle across the lake to the last remaining frontier we had to conquer in Cache Lake, the portage to Hilliard Lake.

Delano Lake, from up on our campsite

We saddled up for our first portage of the year knowing roughly what to expect. The bags were packed well and the going was easy, if not uphill. The whole trail leads up, and up, and up to Hilliard with the remnants of a bench and portage stand about halfway through. This was a well-worn path, obviously used by the cottagers on Cache as well as day-trippers hunting for trout.

The burbling creek behind our site

Hilliard itself is a very pretty little lake with only one site on it. It was occupied, but looking through the trees we could see it was a large site able to accommodate a large party. It seems it is desirable for good reason. Dotted with little islands and spread over two main branches, Hilliard won’t blow up in big wind and anyone can have a good time here.

Delano, from just west of the site

Our next portage wasn’t as nice as the last, it had blow-downs, slippery rocks, and muddy creeks to traverse. Luckily it was a short 350m jaunt, so it took no time. We got to the dock marking the end of the portage into Delano and marveled at our home for the night. Around the corner on the northeastern corner of the lake we found our site up on a rock overlooking the rest of the lake.

It’s a nice site to be sure, firepit out with a view of the lake, contoured rocks and benches to site on, plenty to explore and a cooking area protected from rain and wind.  It was a little unnerving to see a moose skull nailed to a tree by the tent pads, but soon it became our mascot (the mandible and femur were neat too).  We got the tarps up as quickly as possible so that we would have a dry area if the skies opened up, then started to relax.

The rear of the site, during a rare break in the rain. Creek in behind

Between short bouts of showers and overcast, we tried fishing from shore, kajiggering with the tarp so that it was rock solid, and eventually gathered firewood. There were semi-marked paths all over the place leading to Cache Lake which we followed to many downed trees. We found a solid, thick section of hardwood (I think it was a beech) and throughout the afternoon we took turns chopping up a section of it. High quality hardwood with a bit of punty softwood burns great, and made for a perfect cooking fire.

That eventual fire would come in very handy later, because halfway through cutting up our wooden treasure the deluge began. Luckily we were battened down fairly well, clothes and tents still in the portaging packs, because it seriously rained. With no wind though, it came straight down onto the leaky tarp we sat under and we didn’t mind. After about half an hour or so, the cold rain backed off and we decided to get the dinner-fire going.

With the rain clearing up, sunset was rather pleasant.

With dinner of grilled chicken, roast potatoes, and a Sidekicks pasta dish in our bellies the sun started to come out to gives us a bit of a sunset. We stayed close to the fire after nightfall, because it got good and cold, but we were more than comfortable.

The next morning I slept in a bit, although my perception may have been skewed. With the past two trips, the sun rose around 7:30-8am! Regardless, I got up and made some coffee and busied myself with breakfast and gathering things to leave. Roused by coffee, Shane was soon up and we drank under the tarp and waited out the rains last little huzzah as it was actually a nice morning.

Our site from the water on the way out

I fished as we paddled back through Hilliard and Cache, catching nothing but still just enjoying the feel of a fishing rod under my leg bouncing rhythmically with the spoons action. Despite the rain and the lacklustre fishing time, I had a great time finishing the entrance lakes accessible through Cache. It’s an area I’ll probably be back, but we have been to this area quite a bit. We’ll probably explore other areas of the park for a while.

We didn’t have long to wait until our next trip either, which helped keep our spirits up paddling out. In less than 5 days we’d be back out and about for the May 24 weekend a bit farther north.

Winter camping hot tenting!

Nov 28-29
Distance: ~5km

We’ve all been there, sitting at home beset on all sides by the winter menace. For years I’ve taken this as the way it is, grumbling at my lot in life until May when I can go canoeing again. This year though, the planets aligned and I was able to try hot tenting in the dead of winter.

This warming hut marks the head of the Minnesing trail

Shane and I rented a Snowtrekker tent from Algonquin Basecamp, an outfitter in Kearney who really bent over backwards to help us have a good time. They walked Shane through how to put everything up nicely and threw in extra gear we might need (like a little shovel). All kitted out, we drove along Hwy 60 to the head of the Minnesing bike/ski trail.

The Minnesing ski trail is completely unmaintained, making it perfect for snowshoeing or more adventurous cross country skiing. As we were to find out, it has a lot of dips and streams throughout its long loops, making it exceptionally difficult terrain summer or winter. We each pulled one toboggan. Shane had one which has more contoured but without lashing points allowed things to fall out easily. Mine was longer and made of high-density plastic, but with no runners underneath it was prone to slipping off any kind of incline. I lashed things down rather loosely and off we went.

Our pulks, slightly tied down

Initially, the going was easy (isn’t it always?) and we marvelled how much better it was to drag gear than carry it like we had in November. Sure, it wasn’t as easy as canoeing, but it certainly was smoother than hauling things around! About 20 minutes in though, we came across what we dubbed Calamity Hill. This steep-ish hill was where we cut our teeth with the sleds. They had a propensity to fall over, often into moving water, and we were very much unimpressed with this. We managed to man-handle our load past the rocks and up the hill where we rested and I re-tied all my knots so they were much more secure. I had the wooden box with our stove in it and the large Tupperware bin full of gear so lashing was fairly easy.

Calamity hill

We hauled for the next hour or so, honing our skill getting through tight squeezes and along narrow ledges. The good thing about winter camping is that when you get tired you just have to get 30m off the trail and you’re home! We selected a small plateau that overlooked Canisbay Lake and started setting up camp.

First, we dug as far down as we could to avoid things sinking as they heated up. This also helped with levelling the floor off. The tent went up very easily over an A-frame pole structure, and we got things going inside to keep them out of the snow which was falling all day. We were cold, tired, and wet so we set about having a coffee. I had brought my MSR Pocket Rocket, and in the cold it did work, but just barely. The fuel was slushy and even at full tilt just managed to heat the snow to a low boil. Never really liked that stove, should have just brought the Whisperlite.

Getting things up and running

After a life-affirming coffee, Shane set about erecting the stove inside the tent while I trekked down to the lake to get some spruce boughs to sleep on. Even the small hills proved a strenuous exercise, but snowshoes really helped me out here. 1-2 inches of floatation vs 1-2 feet of tent-poling? Easy choice to bring them. By the time I brought back my first load, Shane had the stove all set up and ready to go. At the suggestion of the guys at Algonquin Basecamp, he had used provided wire to attach 4 sticks to the bottom as a means of stopping the stove from sinking into the snow. It’s hard to describe, but basically it was a set of snowshoes for the stove! There was still much to do though.

Shane sets to drying wood and melting water

We both attacked the chore of bough gathering, before grabbing firewood. There was a large maple down near our camp, so we grabbed lumber from that, splitting what we could. Shane was the wizard of the fireplace that day, expertly stoking the fire and fiddling with the door to keep as much heat going efficiently while keeping the smoke outside (harder than it sounds).

Canisbay Lake

We had lunch of grilled cheese on english muffins, and that really restored our depleted energy. Before long we had all the wood chopped up for the night, our bedding laid out, and a system to continuously melt water going. We could finally relax and enjoy ourselves.

Our tent as dinner warms on the stove

Dinner that night was a pre-made stew from my pressure cooker at home which was already in a sealed pot so all we had to do was set it on the stove in preperation for dinner. We cleaned up dinner quickly and were ready for bed nice and early. The day had really sapped our strength. Our sleeping systems were in the same order (starting on the bottom): Snow, boughs, tarp, Thermarest, -20 sleeping bag. It was surprisingly comfortable and warm, I really enjoyed it. When I woke up the next morning, Shane had already gotten the fire going and my thermometer read 10 degrees above 0, better than some late summer temperatures.

Morning, digging out from under snow

Breakfast and coffee were nice to have in the tent with nothing to set up. Real bacon this time, none of that microwavable stuff! With our bellies full, we reversed the process of setting up (minus digging in) and before 11am we were on the way we came. I found the trip out very tough physically, but it got easier that closer we got to the parking lot as the terrain levelled out. Calamity hill was definitely easier to go down than up, but was still a challenge. It didn’t help that there was fresh snow everywhere, slowing down our sledging.

Looking back, we were very green and I think we were ambitious taking on the Minnesing trail. Next time I think we’ll take the railbed from Mew Lake campground for flat terrain to haul across. Also, everything takes longer in the winter. Gathering wood, cooking food, boiling water, setting up the tent…it all just takes so much out of you! I don’t want to make it seem like I didn’t enjoy it, I’m definitely going to go again, it was just significantly more work than I had expected.

Enjoying the wilderness, despite a bit of cold.

Also, I have no idea why anyone would willingly subject themselves to a cold-tenting trip when hot-tenting is available. The extra size and work was definitely worth it to be able to cook, eat, and live comfortably in the tent. With the shorter days, you’d either be forced to have a gigantic fire outside for heat, or go to bed early and wake up late (and miserable).

I learned a lot in this short 24-hour trip.

Maple Leaf Lake – Western Uplands Trail

Nov 5-6, 2016
Total distance: 8.8km
Video log:

Earlier this year, Shane and I witnessed exactly how dangerous water can be in the extreme shoulder seasons, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t spook me a little bit.  Definitely influenced our decision to try a hiking trip into Algonquins backcountry.  Since it’s November we decided to hike to a lake with a known fish population and hunker down for a long night at Maple Leaf lake, the closest lake to the trailhead at Highway 60.

Trailhead of the Western Uplands trail at Highway 60

I’m green when it comes to hiking.  I know I don’t have the right gear and mindset to take on something crazy long like the Appalachian Trail in the winter.  With that in mind, let’s review my gear and food for the 1 night trip:

• 1 giant sleeping bag, a Marmot Trestles 0 (good for -20c)
• 1 four man tent
• 1 very full gear bag (Whisperlite and fuel, coffee, full pot and kettle, multple stirring utensils, cutting board,  first aid kit, flag, sink, etc. etc. etc.)
• Hatchet
• Saw (didn’t use, Shane brought a better one)
• Toiletries kit
• Extra clothes (actually, this was the only thing I brought that I used all of)
• Food bag (with a GIANT box of soup stock!  Why didn’t I just bring a bullion cube?!?!?  I’m dumb)
• Extra cooler bag with a few odds and sods plus the frozen bean dish for dinner.  This was also needlessly heavy.
• Fishing gear
• 1 MEC Scout tarp
• Much paracord

Why go into such detail?  Because this was the Western UPlands Trail.  Up, and up, and up.  Watching fellow hikers breeze by with traditionally minimal gear was embarrassing.

Exploring an old dam

The trail was lovely though.  The sun was shining and the wind low.  We walked and admired the few oak and maples that still bore leaves, stopping every few minutes to look at a beaver dam or stream.  We got lost once bypassing a fallen tree as leaves had fallen across the path and we didn’t realize we were wandering.   Before we had become the target of a provincial search though, we found the blazes and were back on our way.

A nice place to rest along the trail

After about an hour and a half we had made it to the signage leading to Maple Leaf Lake.  Based on videos and photos we decided to stay on the south-central side.  From the main trail, we took a left down-hill, then a right at the next fork (along a boardwalk).  There were two nearly conjoined sites, with an outhouse in the middle extolling the benefits of packing garbage out rather than cramming it down a shitter-hole.  We  settled on the more eastern site as hit had a better cliff-face for fishing.

Maple leaf lake, nary a canoeist to be seen…

Now that we were there, the toil of packing half of an MEC catalog in became apparent.  The wind was there, and if it turned really biting in the evening we could set up a wind tarp.  The tent was secure, water resistant, and spacious.  The food would be hearty and easily prepared.  Life was a bit more normal.  We set about the usual rigors of camping, then got a drink and started fishing.

We had no luck fishing, and what’s more we knew we’d be searching longer than usual for firewood without a boat.  We explored our little peninsula before heading back up the path in search of lumber.  With many of the leaves down, it didn’t take too long to find good dry lumber with which to keep warm.

A creek near our site with no real movement, can’t imagine it near bug season.

Lunch was soup, and having warmth in our bellies allowed us to keep fishing and cutting lumber.  Lunch was late though, not finished until around 2:30pm.  It didn’t hurt that we hadn’t gotten hiking until around 10am.  This meant that if we were going to have to have dinner at 6 or so, we would be making it in the dark.  This is not something we’ve ever had to contend with, as we usually eat dinner in the twilight hours of 7:30-8pm.  It was weird.

We had no luck fishing, despite the good spot.  It wasn’t long until we were starting to lament that fact that we didn’t have a canoe.  To get to the other side of the lake would be a mere 10 minute paddle, tops.  On land it would take at least twice as long, with no guarantee it would be any better.  We needed deep water wit ha current to get to the splake we were targeting, and there was no way for us to get there from shore.  Oh well, at least the coffee was hot and we weren’t at work.

Fishing in vain, as the sun begins setting (at like, 4pm)

The sun set, and were fired up the stove for dinner.  Once again we had a pile of pre-made bean and beef goo.  It was great, but by the time we got seconds, it was already very cool in the November night.  We tended the fire, and by the time it felt late it was only 10pm.  This was a loooonnngggg night.  What made it worse was that the clocks fell back an hour that night due to daylight savings.  It was nice and warm in my sleeping bag though, so I had a lovely time waiting for the sun to come up.

Eggs and bacon were for breakfast, along with with yet more coffee.  We packed up slowly, relishing the strong sun and light winds.  We also were about to learn a hard lesson about hiking.  There’s no such thing as phoning in an out.  We have become complacent with the last day, just throwing everything haphazardly in the bag, knowing that at worst we`d have to lug it over a few portages before it goes back in the bottom of the boat.  This is not the case hiking.  Everything must be folded, packed, and hauled as efficiently as possible.  While we backtracked down the trail, amicably downhill this time, it was still a haul.  In the morning.  Bleh.

It was truly beautiful weather though, we definitely lucked out.  No bugs, light wind, just a nice walk in the select hardwood section at Home Depot really.  I missed my canoe deeply, this trip added some much-needed perspective regarding how important it is to the enjoyment of my trips.  Not just a means of transport, the canoe is a cargo ship, lumber truck, deep-sea fishing station, and magic carpet.

Few hours left until dinner

It`s going to be a long winter…

Booth Lake – Labour Day 2016

Sept 3-5, 2016
Farm, Kitty, Booth Lakes
# of portages: 4
Total portage distance: 1470m
Total distance: 12km
Videolog:

Do you believe in karma?  Karma is the idea that any one action will lead to subsequent reactions, usually in a balancing act.  This year has been nothing but rain and cold, with occasional cloud.  This trip was the ying to those trips yang.

Heading out into the fog

This year, because of math and traffic, it made all sorts of sense for me to forego heading north the Friday night and instead push all the way from Oakville to Shall Lake access point Saturday morning.  Waking up at 2:30am wasn’t fun, but the drive was a breeze!  Honestly, I’m probably going to go this way for many of the next long weekend trips.  I met Shane 3/4 of the way there at a Hortons in Huntsville and we managed to pull into the proper park office at almost exactly 7am.

What greeted us was a thick fog and chilling cold.  I marked the temperature at 3 degrees near the East gate.  Seeing some bass playing in the water near the bridge between Shall and Farm lake I threw in lure and lo!  A little bass.  Good tidings.  We went into the fog, hoping our past experience would let us navigate it fairly easily.  As we rounded the point into the lake, we were treated to wolves howling.  It started as just one lone drone, then built into a cacophonous roar.  From our vantage point in the fog on glass, it was really something special.

Back on Booth Lake

The portages in were exactly as we remembered them, but with our new perspective on the terms “long” and “heavy”, they were a doddle.  Didn’t hurt that we were pretty much jogging from excitement as the sun started to warm things up.  Getting back onto Booth, glassy and inviting, was like catching up with an old friend.  We were hoping to get the site we were at last time (third from the portage on the eastern side of the lake) mostly for the view and to see if the table we built was still there (seriously, we’d still like to know).  We were disappointed to see we were one of the last groups there, most had come up earlier in the week to stake a claim.

We definitely wanted a westward view of the sunset, so we plugged along to the far end of the lake before checking out the island sites.  It was there that we came on the best damn site we could have hoped for.  Nestled away from every other site, just south of the two sites by the portage to Chipmunk lake, was a grand ol’ site.  This baby had a beach, multiple tables, drying racks, nails to hang stuff, a hill behind it, and a unmarred view from the campfire across  the northern basin of Booth lake.  Sure, if there wind was blowing cold right up main street you’d freeze, but the lake was still and the shade was nice.

Our hovel.

We took a few minutes to marvel at our luck, then set to work around the camp.  Shane has gotten into the habit of bringing a few hand tools and screws with him to fix up benches and tables, so he went about making the table sturdy.  I tried to make a fire blower.  It’s basically a split stick tied back together with a large opening at one end and a small hole at the other (imagine a large wooden straw).  You blow in the big hole, and the breath is condensed through the pipe to a needle which gets a fire really popping!  Unfortunately, mine didn’t work very well, I definitely need to refine the technique.

The blower came from something I saw on the show Alone, a survival show that I adore.  Another little tidbit from Alone was how effective a Paiute deadfall was at trapping mice.  I figured it might not be a bad idea to see if I could get a proof-of-concept one constructed.  I won’t go into detail about how to put one together, but again I was unable to replicate the effect I wanted.  I was disheartened, but overnight I remembered exactly how it looked on the show.  Within minutes the next day I had it all set up, and I’m a bit more confident now in my ability to gather food without a supermarket.

Exploring the lake

We did a little exploring later, just to gather firewood and do a bit of fishing.  There was a ton of driftwood dotting the eastern shore, so we didn’t kill ourselves.  We did find a sizable pike in the shallows waters by our site, but couldn’t manage to catch the guy.  I had been up since 2:30am though, and Shane not much later, so it was an early night.  Shane brought a great meal of beans, meat, and potatoes which stuck to our ribs and knocked us both out.

Waiting for the stars to come out

The next morning we woke up on our own accord to a very foggy lake.  Once again, the cool temperatures mixed with the warm lake to produce an impenetrable curtain over the far side of the water.  We were hoping to go fishing, but it wouldn’t happen until this burned off so we had some coffee and watched the world go by.  Soon enough we were on the water heading south aimlessly.  We had no luck around the closest island to our site, and on a whim started towards “driftwood bay” near the second site from the portage.  The whole way, past the close grouping of sites on the eastern shore, we saw no structure on the floor and it was pretty shallow.  No bites, but the scenery was lovely.  At driftwood bay though, the fishing was marvelous.  there’s a large ridge right off the site there where it drops off and the minnows were thick.  Both Shane and I got our fill and headed back for breakfast.

Success in driftwood bay

Shane hadn’t slept too well due to a sinus infection of some sort, so he decided to take a nap.  Meanwhile, I played around with making a bowdrill to try and get a friction fire going.  I knew it was going to be a slog and probably wouldn’t work (it didn’t), but I was interested in trying the technique.  You can understand the concept as much as you want, but trying things like this out in the real world are usually the best preparation for the worst-case scenario.  The hottest part of the day was spent idly passing time at the site, swimming, collecting lumber, and taking photos.  After a small lunch, we decided to explore the north basin of Booth Lake.

Many miles put on the canoe that day

Our original idea was to paddle all the way down to the Tattler cabin and fish the mouth of the river there, but about halfway there we started hooking into bass hiding in the shade of the tall hills.  Enjoying the shade ourselves we decided to slowly fish our way back.  Time flew by and before we knew it we were heading back to the site for dinner.  Tonight was pizza on the Outback Oven, which takes time and care to prepare so we wanted to make sure there would be sunlight to use.  The evening was as sublime as the rest of the weekend and we spent a good amount of time watching the sky rotate as we searched for satellites.

Not a bad dinner spot

Monday morning came too quickly for my liking.  It meant I had to start taking things down as coffee boiled and we slowly got packed up.  Breakfast was brief, but we dragged our feet putting things into our bags.  We noticed everyone else had the same idea, because when it finally came time to push off there was a sudden influx of boats on the lake.  We stayed near the back of the pack, no need to rush to the portage where there’d be a backup anyways.

Saying goodbye to Booth lake

At the portage, as expected, there were piles of gear on each side.  We had the benefit of youth and preparation which allowed us to pass just about everyone ahead of us by single carrying.  By the time we were on Farm lake, we had left everyone we saw on Booth behind us.  Seems our increasingly usual long weekend plan of going 20km in a day meant we had increased our average travel speed.  We arrived at the take out and then headed down the road, content that this had been the best canoe trip of 2016 (so far).

Rain – McCraney lake

August 13-14
# of portages: 2
Total portage distance: 3390m
Total distance: 7.2km

Rain…2016 will go down in my books as the year of rainy camping.  Had it been any other weekend, I probably wouldn’t have gone, but the best man at my wedding just accepted a new job in Korea which will keep him busy for years and we hadn’t been on a canoe trip yet.  So despite the rain, we packed up and headed out with Shane for a quick taste of the park.

Ready to move out

Rain lake lived up to its name.  We got there around 8:30, with just enough precipitation falling to be annoying.  Luckily we’re all amateur meteorologists and knew there was a gap in the rain coming up on the radar.  We unloaded what we could, leaving the packs in the car and took up residence under a tree.  We chatted with a friendly MNR employee who was putting up signs raising awareness over the fire ban.  That’s right, despite the rain there was a fire ban on park-wide!  A large 60-hectare fire was burning on the east side, and it was just coming under control.  He did suggest some fishing spots though, great guy.

Around 9:30, the rain started to subside and we started out.  The lake was calm and the company good.  Before long we came upon the only portage of the trip, a long but easy 1600-odd meter cart path.  It was great!  Wide, clear, and level.  Near the end, you divert from the cart path into Little McCraney.  We caught our breath, changed footwear to sandals, and pushed off from the sandy beach towards our destination.

Ed getting ready to carry Shane and his pack at the same time, tank mode!

Heading south through a relatively spacious creek, Ed was impressed with the beaver dam we had to lift over.  A helpful couple we passed warned us of low water levels, but at this point in the season it was very passable.  It is a controlled environment though, so I could see trouble with the creek if the system lost 30-odd centimetres.

As we pulled out to McCraney lake, the rain began spitting again.  We decided to take the first available site and make the best of whatever we had.  Turns out, this meant the northernmost site on the west.  It was a small site, with a big root system running through most of it, but there were some dilapidated benches and plenty of trees to strap down a tarp or two.

Making the most of a rainy situation

First thing we did was put up a tarp, so that the gear would be dry, then we could worry about things like food and where to put the tents.  We put all our eggs in one basket with this tarp, using all the rope we had to tie it up, down, and sideways.  By the time we were done lunch, it had started to rain steadily again.

As we busied ourselves around the camp fishing, building/improving benches and rock tables, the rain really came down.  We dug moats to keep the drainage up, but it was a losing battle.  Eventually we were ankle deep even right under the middle of the tarp!  The rain came and went all day, but there are worse places to be warm and (mostly) dry.

The rain really hampered any plans to explore the lake, which was large and has many features to visit.  Dinner was undercooked.  We left the same way we came.  In almost every way this was a write off weekend, but I’m so glad to introduce Algonquin’s interior to Ed before he left.  He claims to have had a good time, so next time we’re on the same continent I’ll have to bring a portaging pack.