Wednesday, 14 November 2012

Canoe Trip - Fall 2012 - Part ll


DAY TWO – Sunday September 30, 2012 – 10.5 miles




I woke in the morning to hear Clayton getting dressed. It had cooled off overnight and I lay in my warm sleeping back for a little while longer, then got dressed and packed up the inside of the tent (stuffing sleeping bags into their pouches and deflating and rolling up our air-mattresses. Clayton already had the stove going to make coffee. I joined him as he was pumping water to make milk for the coffee and the oatmeal. I told him to make just enough for the oatmeal and when he asked why I surprised him with a small bottle of Sangster’s Rum Cream I’d filled the previous morning before we left the city. We had some coffee, which tasted quite luxurious compared to our usual camp coffee, started the oatmeal, and while it sat cooling took down the tent and packed it up. We sat sharing the oatmeal in comfortable silence. There were some geese on the lake and Clayton thought he spotted some gulls down the lake with his binoculars. After breakfast we quickly washed up the dishes and packed the bags. The canoe was easily loaded up and we were on the lake by 10:00 and started our day-two paddle.

The previous evening we’d noticed another point of land about half a mile away that looked like it might be a possible campsite. We decided since it was on our way that we’d check it out in case we ever decided to come back this way. The point could definitely hold a tent but the area wasn’t as big or as flat as where we had camped.
As we made our way to the portage the white things that Clayton thought were gulls we found were actually buoys (bleach bottles) tied down marking low water and rocky areas. We remembered that we didn’t have a bailer (oops!) and saw that one of the markers was actually two bottles tied together. We “borrowed” one of the two bottles to make a bailer for our canoe. J Two minutes later we were at the portage. This one was very short and we were able to take the heavier items down in one trip and just pick up the canoe with the rest of the gear for the second trip. It was amazing to see how many fishing boats and motors were stored at these points –money just sitting there. We also saw the skeletal remains of an old wooden boat from many days gone by.

The next lake, Violet Lake, was very pretty with all the fall colours. Our route led us down into a narrows and our map indicated that there were rapids at this point. We approached it and all we could see were rocks due to the low water. Thinking there might be an alternate route that wouldn’t involve portaging we paddled into an adjacent bay. Nothing. So we went back, prepared to portage the canoe over the rocks. To our surprise and delight we found that there was a small winding channel connecting the two narrow parts of the lake and we were able to pull the canoe through using our paddles and moving slowly. There was another narrows a ways up but it was a lot wider and deeper and we had no problem just paddling through, keeping an eye out for rocks.

Just before we headed into Eagle Lake’s Trout Hole 2 we stopped for a bite to eat on a sunny shore.

Heading into the lake it began to get windier and choppier. Unfortunately the wind was against us (isn’t that usually the case?) We had to dig deep and just paddle to get through the next section. There was little talking as we concentrated on getting to the lee parts of islands and points coming up.

As we rounded the last point I could see the creek opening where it spilled into Eagle from Teggau Lake. I had been looking forward to this part of the canoe trip, and introducing Clayton to an amazing, beautiful lake bordered by towering red and white pines and sheer rock faces. As we made our way up the slow flowing creek it didn’t look quite like I had remembered. The fire that had come through a few years back was more extensive than it looked. The entire portage on both sides was full of burned and charred tree trunks. The last time I’d paddled up that creek it was almost like paddling into a dark tunnel of forest rising up on both sides. I felt completely exposed this time.

The creek was much lower than the last time I was there, and I just attributed this to the low lake levels we’d seen elsewhere on our trip. But as we rounded one corner of the creek we could see what looked like the water line at eye level. As we got closer we could see a beaver had built a dam right across the creek. Since it wasn’t very high, and beavers build sturdy and robust dams, we were able to paddle up to it, step onto the dam and pull the canoe up and over – even fully loaded with gear. Above the dam the creek was as high as I’ve ever seen it but it was still flowing slower than normal. The water here was also unnaturally clear. Eagle Lake is usually kind of murky and you can’t see much beyond three feet down. The creek was nearly crystal clear and we could see every blade of grass and beaver-chewed stick that lay on the bottom.

We arrived at the bottom of the portage hopeful that the fire hadn’t made its way much further but as we walked the trail to Teggau it was apparent the fire had burned right up into the surrounding forest. Putting in and then paddling up through the narrows before the main lake was sad. Fire had ravaged most of the shorelines and as far back as you could see to the south. The north face had fared a little better, but this was the side with the sheer rock cliffs and we couldn’t see over them. I pointed out one potential campsite I had used years before but it was pretty much decimated from the fire. We decided to keep going to option number two, at the mouth of the narrows across from the rock cliffs, normally a spectacular view. This was no better and in fact was worse. The entire south-eastern shore looked like a post-apocalyptic world, devoid of trees or any other greenery. To make matters even more difficult the south wind was pushing the water into the rock face and it was bouncing back making the waves unpredictable and not unlike being in a washing machine. We pulled the canoe up as soon as we could and scouted out anywhere that may be used for a campsite. It was quickly evident that we were not going to find anything suitable on the big lake so we carefully made our way back to the narrows and into calmer waters.

We checked out each small bay and finally ended up back at option one. As far as campsites went it was technically ideal, with a large flat area on which to set up the tent, a flat rocky area to cook dinner and a fire pit already made. Aesthetically it was a barren and charred moonscape, but it would have to do. It was going on 4:00 and we didn’t have time to portage back down and search for another spot. So we set up the tent and then sat on the sunny rocks and read and journalled for a little while. I looked over at one point to see my husband fast asleep on the rock.  Once again we had a quick dip and air-dried before getting dressed and starting dinner over a glass of wine. We cooked up some pasta with herb&garlic sauce and a freeze-dried Hawaiian chicken with pineapple rice. The dehydrated meals are light-weight, water-proof and actually quite tasty. They have come a long way. The one thing I really missed, especially when setting up camp, and there’s no reason we couldn’t have brought some along, is beer. A couple of six packs wouldn’t have added much weight, and it would have been cooled quite nicely in the fall waters. Next time!

After dinner I checked to see if we had any cell service and once more was totally surprised to find one bar although I did have to walk around a bit to find it. I reassured Mom again that we were safe and enjoying ourselves immensely. Then Clay foraged for wood and got a blazing fire going while I struggled to get a line over an old tree so we could hang our food bags.

We had another night with a clear sky and full moon. It rose over the ridge behind our tent, silhouetting the skeletal remains of burnt pines. It was so bright and beautiful and lit up our entire little bay. I lay down on the rock to enjoy the night sky and watched the moon illuminate a thin band of clouds that were drifting by overhead. They seemed to move very quickly, which was odd because there was nary a breeze in our bay that evening. I realized it wasn’t clouds that were moving but the Northern Lights. I have seen some spectacular displays of northern lights before but usually in the winter on a clear and cold -35 degree night. But I’ve rarely seen then so vibrant and active. The lights were skipping across the night sky, changing colours as fast as I could name them and radiating out in all directions from a central point in the sky like a massive multi-pointed star. It was truly amazing to watch.
 
The weather up to this point had cooperated wonderfully. I went to sleep hoping the trend would continue.

Friday, 9 November 2012

Canoe Trip - Fall 2012 - Part 1


Hey folks in blog-land...Remember me? Ah...probably not - I've been noticeably absent these last6 months...It's not that I haven't had anything to write, I've just been busy and chose to abandon the blog for a while. I can't promise that it won't happen again...and I thank those of you who still check in from time to time.
The next few posts detail a canoe trip my husband and I took this past fall. It was the longest paddling trip I've been on and when I feel stressed at work, or frustrated by life I return to this trip in my mind and am instantly calmed. Read on and you'll see why...

DAY ONE – Saturday September 29, 2012 – 9.3 miles


We arrived at Mom and Dad’s with the news that we were going to head off that afternoon. The original plan was to leave on Sunday but the weather forecast was calling for cooler temperatures and the possibility of rain into Tuesday and Wednesday. Saturday was blistering hot (for September) and Eagle Lake was pristine like glass, a rarity in the fall. Our revised plan had us leave from Mom and Dad’s and head backward along our planned route. The reason being we would get the “big lake” paddle out of the way. Eagle can be unpredictable and since it is quite open in spots it can get pretty rough and dangerous when the wind kicks up.

So we left the dock at 2:00 and began our adventure.

The first couple of hours went quickly and we made good time across Eagle. Our map was good but we still had a couple of “where are we?” moments as we tried to decipher the lay of the land – the islands looking like mainland upon first glance until we paddled a bit more and saw them from different angles.



 

Our first destination was Walleye Lake. Dad had suggested we head into the smaller lakes for a couple of reasons. They would be more remote so a lesser chance of seeing other boats (most boats on Eagle are those of the motorized variety), and to avoid the big lake and having to paddle through the larger bays which get very choppy. We found the portage easily and began the trek to transfer gear from one end to the other. I had taken off my shoes and socks when we hit shore as it was quite muddy. The water was quite low this year and the bay in which the portage was located was shallow. Clayton and I sank to our ankles as we pulled the canoe up to the shore. I grabbed the first load and headed up the trail barefoot (Bob would have been proudJ). The path was soft and mossy and covered with leaves making for a refreshing walk up to the next lake. I dropped our gear next to a couple of boats (and a gas can0 that had been left on the lake by one of the local tourist outfitters for fishing. I met Clayton on the way back with his load of stuff. We returned for a second trip, me with the remaining gear and Clayton with the canoe. It took a couple tries to figure out the canoe but after using one of our inflatable pillows to cushion his bony shoulders from the hard wooden yoke he was able to carry the canoe up the portage. It is balanced quite nicely and since it doesn’t weigh very much (relatively speaking) once it’s on the shoulders it’s just a matter of watching where you step.

We got up into Walleye Lake and loaded the canoe again and set off to find a campsite for the night. Dad had pointed out some islands that he thought might be suitable so we set off in that direction. After circling one island that had no flat areas we spotted a point that had clearly been used for shore lunches. It had a large clear mossy area on which to set up a tent, and was basically a big flat rock. We unloaded the canoe, set up the tent and then took a quick dip in the lake and dried off in the sun before we proceeded to start dinner. It had been a very warm day for September and it was nice to feel refreshed and somewhat clean before bed.

Our sunset (I claimed it as ours because there was no one else on the lake seeing the majesty of Mother Nature) was stunning and we sat staring at it over a glass of wine, unable to look away for fear of missing part of it.

Just before we ate dinner on a lark I turned on my phone. I was surprised to find a signal, a weak one but a signal nonetheless. I dialed Mom and Dad’s number and had a brief chat with her. It was very surreal to be as remote as we were yet still connected to the world. I know Mom appreciated the call, knowing we were safe, because she looked worried that afternoon when we left the dock.

After supper we started a fire (actually Clayton started it) and we sat around the fire passing our flask of Drambuie back and forth a couple times. The moon was rising through the trees behind us – it was large and bright and looked full. (Full moon was actually the following night - September 30th, 2012) It was a magical night with sunsets and moonrises and soft silence. I said something to Clay and heard an echo, then another. When it got quiet again we called out. This time we heard 5 echoes back and forth across the bay. It was so totally cool!

The night was warm and the tent glowed in the moonlight. I slept on and off and had to get up to go to the bathroom. When I stepped outside the tent I was bathed in moonlight so bright that I had a shadow as sharp as it would have been in sunlight. I stood there staring at the moon, which had come around to shine down on our point. The night was still and I drank in the moment for fear I wouldn’t be able to recall it again.