Cree River Summer 2023

[Halpc]

I was very impressed with your solo expedition and my wife was totally blown away! She strongly discourages me from even much more modest solo trips. Thanks for all the effort you put in to document, photograph and write up the trip. Hope you can continue to enjoy canoe trips as a septuagenarian.

 

[Ralph]

A good sense of humour is a great attribute on a canoe trip or in life. Well done. It's good that the fish got away since it would have taken you days to consume such a monster.

 

[deekgeek]

Cree River flows north out of Cree Lake to Black Lake. Paddling here was a constant surprise. Previously my canoe tripping has been done in Quebec. The rivers I had to fly in to some 30 years ago, now have roads and houses on them. I wanted to find a less crowded locale.

Being 69, I also wanted a river with no portages and rapids CII and under. After purusing many books and trip reports, I decided the Cree River fit the bill. The only trouble; the Cree River is located in northern Saskatchewan and I am located in south Florida. It was going to be a long drive. 3,191 miles one way per google maps. I broke it up by visiting botanical gardens along them way, a family reunion in Vermont, some whitewater instruction with Rolf Kraiker on the Palmer Rapids, a visit with memaquay, and a visit with Paddling Pitt and his lovely wife.

Rolf Kraiker teaches what he calls Paddle Smart Not Hard. He spent time with me not on the typical eddy turns, etc., but learning to slow down in the rapids and put the bow of the boat right on the cushion of water that builds up on a boulder as you go around it. Amazing. Rolf has little figures to use on the kitchen island top to illustrate current, boat and paddle. He taught me a couple of knots, the Figure 8 knot being most useful for me. He also taught how to configure a bridle for lining the rapids. We walked the rapids and talked about how to determine waves the come from water hitting rocks and waves generated by water hitting water. I was pleased that I in general agreed with him on interpretation. This was important to me because I have never before had a professional walk a river rapids with me. Rolf has lots of interesting videos on his website: https://rolfkraiker.com/canoeing

Leaving the Ottawa area, I drove up to Route 11, a drive I really like. It is peaceful, little traffic, quite relaxing. Canadian drivers are so calm and polite It is joy to drive in Canada. Plus, I got to drive through Moonbeam, ONT, and visit their space ship.

View attachment 137563

I had the happy occasion to meet memaquay and his wife. Most of you probably know he has spent a lifetime bringing school children on canoe trips and clearing portages. He also, I learned, advocated to require the timber industry to leave a buffer zones of natural forest along the rivers most used by canoeists. This is a great service to the future of canoe tripping in his region of Canada.

Next stop was the home of Paddling Pitt, who provided email considerations for my trip, and his wife. We sat in their sunroom and talked canoe trips, families, forums, all kinds of things. They have a bed and breakfast there. Their home is beautiful, tucked into acres of natural forest. I had a panic attack thinking I had left behind the poles for the screen room. They came up with some kind of leftover poles. They are slowing giving away their tripping gear and they have decided not to do remote trips anymore. We have all enjoyed his trip reports and it is sad there will be no more.

Next stop was Churchill River Canoe Outfitters in Missinipe SK. Ric Driediger is the personable and helpful owner who has been guiding trips in the area for more than 30 years. Ric answered many of my questions about the Cree River by email in advance of my trip. From his book, I learned he also values tripping alone. His book Stories of the Churchill documents many of the stories of canoe trippers he has known over the years. I stayed in the Fox Den for one night and it was clean and comfortable.

The drive from Missinipe to Stony Rapids generally takes about 10 hours. I was lucky in that graders had been out recently and it took me only eight and a half hours. Here is what the road looks like:

View attachment 137564

It is a new road, just a few years in service. Paddling Pitt told me an acquaintance told him it was impossible to drive this road and you would get two flat tires if you tried. It is a bit scary because you can't tell exactly where the hardpack ends and the crumbly shoulder is very soft. Sometimes the shoulder drops straight down far enough to kill you. But you can't tell exactly where it is. This becomes important when a logging truck approaches you and you want to make sure he does not hit you and you don't go over the side. You might notice, there are drops that you can't see over. A little like going over a ledge.

I stopped at Points North for fuel. I was expecting a small little town. Nope. Points North looks like a large army base, flat out hardpan and warehouses and trucks with no people in them. I drove all around the compound and could not see anywhere to get gas, or even anyone to question. Suddenly I saw two women coming out of one building and headed for another. I quickly drove to them before they disappeared inside. One kindly pointed out the gas pump and where to pay. There's a little commissary there where you can purchase sodas or candy bars

View attachment 137565

I arrived in Stony Rapids midafternoon. It was a bright and sunny day. I found the float plane landing and introduced myself and confirmed my flight for tomorrow. The office and flights are pretty busy, making this feel less remote and quite routine to be taking a plane somewhere. Sort of like hailing a taxi. A big group of six came in. A loud man was exclaiming how wonderful it was. Lots of gear. They had been fishing.

View attachment 137566

View attachment 137568

Stony Rapids is not a bustling community. There is only one full time motel, The White Water Inn. There are two others that open apparently sporadically. I had a reservation at the White Water Inn and I have got to say it was creepy. I hate to say this, but the owner/worker seemed to resent my presence and each piece of information had to be dragged out of him. The hall way was narrow, dim, and appeared to have been last carpeted some 50 years ago. The door to the room was flimsy and had a button lock that could be easily popped open.

Interestingly, this establishment was described in Water and Sky as a central meeting place in town. In addition to the hotel, there was a restaurant and there were parties and food and drink and the proprietors were friendly. I wish someone would buy that place and restore it.

Despite the problems, I survived the night and woke to: Smoke. As most of you know, wildfires have been raging all across Canada. I kept an eye on the fires as my launch day approached and so far, things had looked okay. But now fires were going to interfere.

View attachment 137569

It turns out the wind had shifted and was blowing smoke and ash from what was described as a huge wildfire in the Northwest Territories. All flights were grounded due to being unable to see anything at all. I learned there were two reservations ahead of me; ie if the smoke cleared enough to fly, they would be first. By the end of the day there was clearing in one direction enough for the first to board and fly out. Two of us were stuck in Stony Rapids and there were no rooms available. The other passenger was a fishing guide who was flying out to the camp where he worked. He was just going to sleep in his truck. Wings over Kississing put me up in a disused building across the street, except there were no locks on the doors. The man in charge (I can't remember his name) put locks on all the doors and I got out my camping gear and slept on the floor. It was more comfortable than the White Water Inn.

View attachment 137570
Smoke again the next morning. It looked as bad as yesterday. The weather forecast showed the winds staying steady for three days. Planes were still grounded. I was now second in line. I did not repack all my gear because I thought I was not going to get out today either. A plane did come in from the east, dropping off six people who had been at a fishing camp. I checked in with the charter office and told them if the smoke cleared and I was to go, to please let me know 30 minutes ahead of time so I could repack. Then I went to my truck and cranked the seat back and napped.

Suddenly there was a banging on my window. It was time for me to go, NOW. The smoke had cleared enough to fly south. The guide was not yet able to go. My gear was not fully packed, but I scrunched things in as fast as I could and their staff put my gear on a huge wagon and pulled it down and loaded it into the plane in seconds it seemed. And suddenly, we were off. My pilot was laid back, calm and quiet. He exuded competence and I was very comfortable in the plane.

The pilot is a quiet man with a Toronto accent. He said he lives north of Toronto and "flies all over." It did not take long to lift off from the water. The ride was smooth - no bumps or stomach lurching drops or turns. I sat up with the pilot. It is an old plane. One can see the paint chips and dents and repairs of long use. I actually found this comforting. The plane was well maintained.

View attachment 137571

I've been told by two people who know something about planes that this was a de Havilland Single Otter.

View attachment 137572

The flight was about 90 minutes and the smoke continued as you can see, but apparently with enough visibility to fly the plane. The pilot seemed fine with it. When we crossed the Cree River, he pointed it out to me.

I wanted to land in Widdess Bay on Cree Lake. Typically, canoeists running the Cree River get dropped off in the far northern bay, but I wanted to spend some time exploring the lake. The pilot was unable to bring the plane into shore. The lake was shallow with packed sand. So he dropped the canoe into the water and dropped my gear into the canoe and helped me step down into it. As I took off, he asked "Do you have a satellite phone? Do you have a map?" I assured him I was prepared with these things and thought to myself it was kind of late to be asking those questions.

Here is the messily packed boat upon landing on the shores of Cree Lake.

View attachment 137573

The canoe was tossed around by the wind and waves. It felt stern heavy and some gear was well above the gunwales. The pilot sat on the water until I reached shore safely. I felt the care and knew it probably looked like I didn't know what I was doing.

View attachment 137574

August 15, 2023. Cree Lake. I am here! I can hardly believe it, the culmination of years of dreams. Alone in the wilderness. Sat on the beach and just looked around. Grateful. Waves rough and noisy. Cloudy with some smoke. With all the smoke flying in, I was afraid Cree Lake would be full of smoke and unpleasant but it is barely noticeable. Its hard to tell what is smoke and what is fog or mist. I had lots of fears coming here: what did I forget to bring was among the top contenders. (As it turned out, I did forget some critical things, but more on that later.)

After grounding out on the sand, I took off my socks and shoes and pulled up my pants, secured with nifty elastic. The water was cold, but not excruciating. I stood up and stretch, pulled the canoe up far enough not to drift away. I walked the beach to find the best place to camp, which was down at the north end. I walked back to the canoe and stood looking out on the lake. As I stood there, a tooth crumbled and fell out. No pain, luckily. I pushed the canoe out into the water and walked it to the campsite.

Sent a Zoleo check in after landing and setting up camp. Checked the Zoleo weather. Zoleo has some problems in this remote area and I'll review it at another time. Let's just say at this point that the weather forecasts were unreliable. But I did not know that at this time and was pleased there was no rain in the forecast for the next 3 days. It's cool. The wind drives the black flies away. Once the basics were set up I conked out for a nap. I woke up at 6:30 pm. It started raining right as I got up: a drizzle that steadily increased. I ate a few M&Ms and retreated to the tent. I could stay out, but why get wet?

The beaches were generally narrow as seen here.

View attachment 137577
This my first camp is on a bench just above the beach,
View attachment 137575

I would learn that variations of the landscape behind the tent is typical of this river's shore. Jack pine amid carpet of blueberry bushes or lichen.

View attachment 137576

August 16, 2023. Wind and rain all night. The wind shifted from SW to NW. The waves constantly crash against the the sand beach. Noisy. It reminds me of a storm that came up when camping in the Ten Thousand Islands, listening to the waves all night long, fearing the rising tide and wind could rise to the level of the tent, which was the highest point on the island. Here, I remind myself, there are no tides.

View attachment 137578

Breakfast time, but where is the silverware? Set up the Trangia in the lee of a birch bush and sea grasses. The granola and cocoa were pressed tight into cakes due to more than 2 weeks packed in duffels. Ate the granola in hot water with my knife and sipping from the bowl.

In the tent, I read North to Athabasca by David Curran. It takes almost half the slim volume to describe getting ready for the trip, along with some history of the area. He provides elaborate details on the plane they chartered, but not any mention of the kind of canoe they paddled. Strange. He writes about fear and points out many who travel in the wilderness have some fear. I supposed this could be attributed to his profession as a psychologist.

To be continued....

A very nice trip report. My wife and I spent nearly 2 weeks on Cree lake. As beautiful as the lake is, it's one trip we wouldn't do again. As you discovered it's a big lake and the winds are a bit much. We spent a lot of time windbound or doing side trips to smaller lakes. That said, 2 of my most unforgettable canoeing days occurred on the lake. After days of wind and waves we had 2 days where it was absolutely calm. It was a remarkable experience to be on water that big where the water was a perfect mirror stretching to the very distant horizon.

 

[Erica]

Cree River 2023, Part 8

Still in August 28...a day with no end. I need to write a little about this river and the canoe. The river bottom is composed almost entirely with round rocks and irregular shapes with the average being about the size of grapefruits. There is no place to put a foot securely. Not on the top. Not in between rocks. My feet slip on whatever slight perch I think I may have.

The river, as rivers will, snakes back and forth across the width of the river. Unfortunately, the turns are too sharp to follow at this water level. So it is easy to get stuck or scrape. I took this picture with the specific purpose of showing the S curves. I can see the S curves but I'm not sure you can, so I have delineated the current in magenta. You can see that with 17 foot canoe, you can't possibly make those sharp turns. So I would try to pick out a path where the water seemed deeper, but then the water would run out...



Invariably, this would result in scrapes.

A few years ago, when I was still working, I made a visit to a client family in a rural area. There was a large asphalt driveway and parking space. I pulled in and parked. Made my visit. Said good-bye. With my mind on the visit, I inadvertently reversed into a strategically positioned telephone pole situated at the heart of the parking expanse. The collision ensued with a distinct thud, abruptly halting the car's motion. The back of the car was neatly pushed in.

That was what it felt like when the bow hit an unseen rock. I got out and struggled to the bow. I did not see any damage. Odd. But I am not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I lifted the boat off the rock and stumbled to shore as per earlier described.
Much later in the day, when I pulled the boat out of the water and up onto the little knife edge, I saw the damage. But I didn't look too closely because I wanted to sleep well that night. I looked more closely the next day and here is a photo of what I saw.

Note: if you don't like to see damaged boats, don't look. And yellowcanoe definitely shouldn't look. She had the boat for some 10 years and did not put a scratch on it.

So, some of the chips are down to the fabric. So, what am I going to do about this? See here:

Duct tape to the rescue!


Arbitrarily moving on to August 29, 2023, a Tuesday

Were it not for the Zoleo and iphone, I could not tell you day or date. I still wear my watch because I need to make sure I make camp early enough. I do not like setting up camp in the dark. I've done it. I can do it. I just prefer daylight.

The sand hill esker coming out of Hawk Rapids is awesome to behold. A sheer wall of golden sand, maybe 40 feet tall. I also caught with surprise the small island reputed to have a camp on it. I'm not sure how one would get to this island without knowing specifically where it was and setting the angle way ahead of time. I briefly considered stopping (or trying to stop) to see what it looked like, but the water moved me on before my brain could finish the thought. Fast water demands my attention.

Blessings indeed! The river and the map match each other. Hurray!

Until they don't.

The river swells broadly and slows a bit. Ahead is an island. I'm looking for the outlet and see to RR a sizable opening and head that way. Funny. I seem to be paddling against the current. Could it be the wind? I look at the underwater plants. They are pointing the wrong way. The map doesn't seem to show any stream coming into the Cree River. There is no such stream on the map.; Thirty minutes into the day and I am lost again.

Incidentally these waters are slow and rich enough to have luxuriant strands of aquatic grasses, so I would expect moose to be in the area.

Finally I locate on the map a tiny blue line indicating a tiny creek coming into the Cree. The actual outlet is far to the west and is easily gained.

As I paddle along, I am keeping an eye out as I paddle through an area Archer has indicated has three esker campsites. There is an esker on RR but it is now packed with young pines. No place to camp there. When I think about it, Archer's book is 30 years old. What was clear then, would be full of trees or other vegetation now. Or burnt.



No place to camp. I have to be careful because there is an upcoming R2 that I don't want to run today with my energy level so low. My notes don't specify a particular reason. Just the note that I need to make camp.



This spot (and others like it) looks promising. But as I paddle closer, it becomes clear this is just a sandbar, with water on the other side and the top just a pointy ridge.

The river widens into a large wetland, populated with a dozen or more intermittent sand islands, from soggy to dry. It is clearly popular with the geese, which are packed in like sardines. They fly off en mass as I approach. This little island is dry. It is flat. And it is covered with goose poop. But I am not going to pass this up.

I pick a level area with slightly less poop and scrape away poop with my boot. I haul out the tyvek to place the packs on and put the yellow tarp under the tent.

When I arrived the wind was blowing fiercely and I had to weigh everything down. A short time later, the wind abruptly died. It was deathly silent. I realized I had been living with thenoise of the rapids for too long. I am glad to be away from the racket.

Upon my arrival, a raven objected. I heard his regular call, but also a mystical crystal drumming sound. I am startled by a great flapping sound and turned to see a flock of ducks leaving. I am disturbing their usual routine.

I set up charging stations, read, write and snack. The sun turns a luminescent peach; the color of a smoke-tinged sun. Across the river a veritable orchestra of songbirds perform.



August 30, 2023

This morning was made of molasses. I slept until almost 8 am, which is way late for me. I still didn't make any fast moves, musing in bed half awake - half dreaming. I had a cup of cocoa for breakfast which was a treat. Rock were scarce as geese teeth and the Trangia was tippy boiling the water and did become unbalanced, but I got it set right again. I let the water boil merrily for 10 minutes as I was not using iodine.

Packing up took forever. I don't know why. Molasses in the air. Once loaded, the trick was to get it launch into current deep enough to float but not so fast I can't jump in. My right ankle has never fully recovered from the break of several years ago.

This process took forever. I finally got situated in a good place, but I can't get my left leg into the boat. Many tries. Many countdowns. Visualizations. But I still can't get the L leg up over the gunwale.

Finally the left leg goes up and over. Now it is the right leg that is uncooperative. We are already in current. My efforts to get the R-L balanced failed. One gunwale went under briefly and I righted it quickly with only some water inside the canoe, but this is not a river you want to run with water ballast.

Hauled the boat back upstream to get back to the rocks. I stabilized it as much as possible, bow titled down and soaked up the water with a sponge. A bailer would not have helped here, unless I unloaded the boat, which I did not want to do. It took about 100 sponge fulls to dry out the boat.

Now to try again to launch. I tried to launch in the water, but could not get my feet to cooperate. The rocks are unstable and shift with the boat and with the current. So I hauled it back onto the rocks, got it and scooted off. I can't get the left foot in under the seat. The pad I put in is getting in the way. I have to use the pad because I lost my knee pads in Hawk Rapids. Eventually we get going, me, the boat and both legs. It has a rapid pace this water. I head for the middle. I'd rather be at the edge, but that's where all the rocks are. The shallows are destructive.

(For those who aren't aware, I broke an ankle several years ago, had surgery, pins, PT, etc. I got back the use of my right leg, but I had lost all proprioception and could not get into a canoe, no matter how stable. I had to crawl in and out on my hands and knees. I tried a lot of things, but what worked was breaking down the process into tiny steps and visualizing each step over and over as I stood next to the canoe. I still lack the grace and control I once had.)

I continue to be mystified by the currents and what is a rock and what isn't. No matter my choice, I seem to head straight for an obstacle. Normally, I would back paddle, but there is not enough depth. Or I might try to pick up some speed to skim over some shallow rocks, but there isn't enough water depth for that either. I have little control. So far today, I did not hit any rocks the current itself couldn't push us over.

To be continued....

 

[Boreal Birch]

I’m glad you are back to writing about this trip. I have often wondered if I had missed the final episodes. I have been looking for them lo and behold there it is this morning. Now I’ve gotten to enjoy Part 8.
Your writing makes me feel like I’m experiencing it with you, I can almost feel the slippery goose poo. I have also backed into a poorly placed power pole, know that feeling all too well well.
Looking forward to Part 9, thanks for taking me along.

 

[Gamma1214]

Thanks for taking on the TR again, Erica. I enjoy your writing style and I was thrilled to see you getting back to it.

Hopefully YC won't be too upset and the damage is repairable.

I still lack the grace and control I once had.

Copy that... injuries certainly don't help but it seems to be going around.

 

[Odyssey]

Thanks Erica for putting together another TR chapter and sharing it here. I've been wondering how the Cree summer went.
At 68 yrs young I can really relate to how annoying awkwardness has replaced youthful grace in even the simplest of body movements.
Tripping/slipping hazards are a constant nagging doubt on trips for me now. Slimy rocks are no funny joke. On a takeout on the Mattawa river I once had to swim crawl to shore 30' over scummy boulders in shallow water. What I thought was an easy walk became a painful bruise collection. My lower joints did look like pretty aurora borealis for days.
Despite the goose poo in the sand location your locale looks stunning. Thanks for the photos along with the writing. I want to feel like I'm there regardless of hardships.

 

[Marrea]

(Mason, interesting indeed that you were in Stony Rapids. I hope your trip was a good one.)

Cree River Part 3.

Head down, I pondered my options. I thought I should continue because I hadn't paddled all that far. My mind tries to consider all options and I become aware my mind is muddled. I need to stay put. There is a flattish bench of sand just above the high water mark. The sand is soft and doesn't hold stakes. The wind was from the northwest. I pitched the tent so it was sheltered by a short bench and white birch and Labrador tea bushes.

View attachment 137612

I found some maybe three pound rocks that I could move to anchor the tent. I used the large duffel bag, which weighed 29 pounds when I left to anchor the fly because the sand would not hold anything. On the other side, I used some exposed birch roots for anchors. It turns out birch roots have lovely bark. It is almost maroon and shiny. It took a long time to unload the canoe because I rested frequently.

I remembered my trip from Little Tupper Lake to Lake Lila in the ADKs when I become very ill and when I finally found a place to shove the canoe onto, I got out of the canoe and just lay flat on the sand for sometime. So I am not sick here and this just reminds me I can continue even when faced with obstacles.

Every up and down movement progressively is harder to manage. Close to the end, in a bit of sun, I sit down and then lay down on the sand. It felt so good to have the sun on my face and the support on my back from the sand and blocked from the wind. It was wonderful. This is why I go tripping. These marvelous unexpected moments when one is one with the universe.

Finished up with the last stone and tether and crawled inside to make up the tent. Lay down and read for the rest of the day. Even though I was tired, I did not fall asleep until after it got dark. Being in the lee of the wind, I had a break from the sound of pounding surf.

August 19, 2023. This is a comfortable site. I slept well until 7 am, then rolled over and slept another couple of hours. Pleasant morning until...

The wind shifted. It is now coming out of the southwest setting up a crashing surf and it is cold. Walked the beach looking for a more sheltered site because now the tent was directly in the wind. The wind was blowing so strongly it was not possible to do anything in its face. No comfort to be found!

The most sheltered spot was positioned in the narrow gap between the tent and the low sand bank. I dragged the canoe over to the front of the tent to be an anchor. Set up the yellow tarp with tied it to rocks and roots.

View attachment 137613
It is definitely colder today than yesterday. I prepared breakfast under the yellow tarp. Read, took a few short walks. Pondered the effects of having a Zoleo on the trip. Just having the device makes me aware that at any time I can text out and someone will rescue me. That was so not true when I was younger and paddling in Quebec. There were no GPSs or communication devices. You went out and you were gone. It's an experience that is becoming harder and harder to find. The Zoleo's ability to text keeps me tethered to the outside. The iphone camera keeps me tethered to photos. And the use of electronic devices keeps me tethered to the solar charger and the weather.

I remind myself that I can go as slowly as I want. This is not a race; it is a pilgrimage of sort, into the northern wilderness of Saskatchewan. Apparently the rivers in the interior drainage into Lake Athabasca. The territory from the Athabasca River (which was well used) to Lake Wolston, had few beaver and were difficult to navigate. All the rivers flowed north into Lake Athabasca and it was a troublesome route. So, in a sense, this area is less trammeled than other areas of Canadian wilderness.

In my wanders, I found this oddly marked piece of driftwood. Brown circles, all about the same size. I find nature kicks up all manner of odd things to look at and contemplate.

View attachment 137614

August 20, 2023. A glorious day! Packed and ready to go. The boat is a Colden Dragonfly. I am carrying three paddles. The front paddle was made by Dave Kavner in 1988. It has come with me on all trips since. and feels like an extension of myself when I am paddling. To the right is a ZRE with 12% angle. At 10 ounces, it is the lightest paddle. I will often start a day with the Kavner paddle and then switch to the lighter paddle later in the day. On the left, my spare, is a Redtail paddle that I have never really used, but was thrown in with a previous canoe purchase.

The sun came out around midday. The sky has stayed more or less blue skies since. There are clouds, but they pass by without much interruption of the sun's rays. Paddling felt really good today in my arm and shoulder muscles. The dragonfly bobs over the waves like a cork. None of the rough water or deep waves have fazed her at all. She seems happy dancing with the water. I shall call her Dancer.

I was headed to a narrow land bridge where I was hoping to portage to avoid a long trip around a long peninsula. Such a narrow neck of land, I thought there was likely a path or at least ground one could portage over.
View attachment 137618

There was no path, no ground one could even walk over. The downed trees were scattered like pick up sticks perched above, through or under hefty Labrador tea bushes. The ground underneath was pocked with depressions. I couldn't even walk through it without falling over and over again. Oh, well. There were blueberries. Then I had my lunch and took a decent break. I love to lie back on my packs and put my feet up the gunwales. This is one of my very favorite positions. Not just canoeing, but in the sense of all my experiences. The canoe drifted in the sheltered bay while I laid back. A flock of Canada geese flies over head. I hear more flocks throughout the day.

View attachment 137623
Paddling now around the peninsula; I sing as loud as I can. I'm paddling with long strokes as recommended by Rolf Kraiker and as described in a novel I am reading. I also recall a video of a Maine guide paddling. She had long, steady strokes. Me too, now.

The beauty of this place takes my breath away. This is paradise. No wind. Just some mild breezes.

View attachment 137619

There is a fish camp ahead marked on the topo. I don't want to be camping near them, so I tuck into another slip of a beach - just enough space for the tent and a place to cook.

Bird life has been sparse, except for a couple of gulls and a few songbirds twittering in the bushes. At night, I can faintly hear loons.

This site has black spruce trees, the first I have seen of them. Previously it was jack pine and the occasional white birch. Labrador tea bushes were by far the dominant shrub along all the shores. At this site, I saw a few alder bushes. When I was paddling in Quebec, my recollection is alders were abundant.

View attachment 137620

Despite being small, it was one of the most beautiful. When the sun was shining, it could have been in the Florida Keys or even Tahiti.

View attachment 137621

A squirrel of some sort chattered at me. I watched several go back and forth through the bushes. It was not any of the squirrels I know, such as red squirrel, gray squirrel, chipmunk, etc. Perhaps it was a gray squirrel smaller than usual due to being so far north. Not much time to eat enough calories to get through the winter. I wondered if they would try to get in my packs. This is such as tiny site I'm sure no one else has camped here to give them the idea.

August 21, 2023. I woke last night to the sound of waves crashing against the sand. My respite from the constant battering of waves was just 12 hours. Still, I am grateful for every one of those hours! I had to get up to see how high the water had come. I had vision of packs bobbing in the surf. The main pile of packs was well up on the beach and were fine. The black duffel however, was right in the waves' spray. I pulled it up further on the beach. It did not seem as heavy as yesterday. Rested muscles are marvelous things. Double checked the boat. Went back to bed.

The morning dawned with blue skies! What a marvel. The wind is not bad, although the waves look frisky.

There is something I don't understand about wind and waves and I shall expose my ignorance here. Last night when the waves kicked up there was no accompanying wind. I was standing on the sand. Virtually no wind. How is it there are waves? I didn't hear any wind either. I looked at the sky. No moon. One bright star. The clouds were illuminated by the stars they hid. Ghostly. No chance of seeing the Perseid meteors or the northern lights.

I keep forgetting to mention; No bugs! No mosquitos. The very occasional handful of blackflies easily discouraged with Deep Woods Off spray.

Occasionally a butterfly or two will sail or flutter by. Yesterday there were some Whites puddling in the sand, probably some animal urinated there and they were gathering salts and minerals. Today I am watching two different kinds of smaller dark butterflies. One I'm pretty sure is a Mourning Cloak, with it's ragged wing edges. The other I'm not sure of. Brown wings are accented with yellow squares around the edges.

Welcome is today's broad sunlight. Waves continue. A good day for bathing and laundry.

Blueberries abound. It is impossible to walk, or set up the tent, without crushing blueberries.

August 22, 2023. I'm up at 5 am and launch at 7 am. It's a beautiful morning with a slight tail wind. Instead of hugging the shoreline here, I take a heading on an island and paddle on.

View attachment 137624I reach the island, but it doesn't look like I think it should. I'm taking compass readings, looking at the maps. I get out the Zoleo. The Zoleo's GPS is supposed to pop up with the lat/long and a topo of where you are. I get an error message instead of a map saying something like my area is too remote and they don't have maps for it. Also, the lat/long that Zoleo reported doesn't match the topo map.

I think I know where I am, but north seems to be south, and south is north. Either that or the islands are in the wrong place.

All around me is water, green trees and blue sky.

I'm not lost. I know where I came from.

But I don't know where I am going.

Continued...

I've read through "part 3". It ends with "Continued..." I wonder where I find the rest of the report. Marrea

 

[Erica]

I've read through "part 3". It ends with "Continued..." I wonder where I find the rest of the report. Marrea

Welcome, Marrea.
I'm not finding a part 4, but part 5 starts on this page: https://www.canoetripping.net/threads/cree-river-summer-2023.128726/page-2

And just keep reading through.

I am still working on it. I hope to post more this week.

 

[Erica]

August 31, 2023 - Part 9

Thursday, I think. Yesterday was exciting. First on the schedule was a Class II ledge running across the river with sneaks on RR and RL. It occurs after a sharp turn to the left. Supposedly there is an RI running into it which occurs after a sharp turn to RL. I've been paddling through some fast water which could be an RI. Here's the sharp left turn. I can see the ledge and big waves. I set the stern to RL, back paddle and perform perfectly through the sneak! Yay! More RI to be expected as this river likes to run on.

I'm paying attention but not expecting anything big. Another left turn and OMG, there is the real ledge. I dither (microseconds) R or L? Choose R, but can't make it. Straighten the boat, pick a route and prepare for the worst but determined to make it the best. Over the ledge and through the waves and that's it! The waves weren't even that big. Whoopee! That was fun.

I had been wondering if the Class II ledges, per the book, meant I shouldn't go over them, or if you are a Class II paddler you can go over them. Now I know.

A bigger problem is the low water and rocky aprons. I got stuck once and managed to rock off. (Sorry Dancer!) The last time I got stuck solidly and was surrounded by strong currents. I grabbed the stern painter and carefully walked the boat back to RL which was closest. I had to pick up the bow and scoot it at times. Crossing the current, holding the boat was tricky. This river runs a strong current all the way to the edge and the current runs strongly under the Labrador tea.

Near the edge of RL, I could no longer keep the stern in place, so I had to let it go and trust I could swing it in with the bow painter. The boat swung into the current and got stuck broadside on another rock! This is, of course, the nightmare of having the boat broadside to the current. It took a good deal of jostling to get both the stern and the bow off rocks and floating. By now I am close to the edge and the current is not quite as fast. I manage to launch and get going again.

Earlier, after the RII and rapids, I did find an eddy on RR and stopped there to congratulate myself and ate a little breakfast: mango rolls!

In between rapids are slow, wide sections where waterfowl can be seen and heard. Canadian geese, of course. One small flock on a sandbar gave me a good look before taking off. There are flocks of ducks. A pair of merganzers or other diving duck. My eyes have gotten so bad. The binocs are packed away due to the rapids. Kingfishers, I can hear them with only glimpses. Mallards with a flash of metallic green head.

I'm not exactly sure where I am. I was to stop at the esker before the next RII. Each swollen area looks much like the other. I finally find the creek coming in from RR. There are sandbars. It's a pretty little stream. I am tempted to camp here, but don't want another night of poop.

I paddle on. There is a shoddy beaver hut on RL.


Then the bay opens up and there's an esker. Not exactly open. And it is some 15 feet high. No easy access although there are narrow trails headed up which later I realize were made by beaver. I cruise the back of the bay looking for better access. One leads to jack pine, but is not much better, so I go back to the original path I found.
Landing through the Labrador Tea. The bow, which you can't see, is still embedded in vegetation, but close enough to the bank to toss over packs. One has to wade back and forth through the Labrador tea, through mud gloppy enough to suck your shoes off, to get out packs, especially near the stern.

It took hours to get the packs up the bank and the tent set up. I added cheese and butter to the 3-cheese mac and cheese dinner. It was delicious and I savored every bite of the enhanced two-person meal. This photo attempts to show how steep the esker was. I had to tie a line down to pull myself and the gear up.


The beaver came out to inspect. I was sitting on the ground by the canoe. He swam out and back and out and back. When I got up, he disappeared. Later that evening, as dusk fell, I heard two characteristic slaps.

A view from the esker.

The sunset was intriguing with the appearance of a shepherdess as part of a circle game, like Picasso's Dance, except more like in a children's story book. With billowing hair and skirt. One hand being pulled ahead and one hand reaching behind to pull along those following her.



I realize this picture doesn't resemble a shepherdess, but it was more realistic in person.


This is another one of those places, common on this river, which look flat, but really not suited for sleeping on. It was as if a carpet roll was lying under the tent perpendicular to the length of the tent. I skooched around and found a place I could cocoon in and slept well.

Today! As I awaken slowly, I hear birds and squirrels carelessly greeting the day. It all stops when I make my first sound. Just sitting up. Geese are flying and making quite the racket this morning across the river. This latest bunch very noisy with a trilling sound I haven't heard before.

There is a cow moose feeding in the river all the way on the other side. Or maybe not a cow. I see twin horns, but they do not look like most antlers. They look like sticks with floppy ears swishing off the flies.

It is sunny and hot with sporadic cool breezes. I seek out shady places for myself and sunny places to charge up devices. I would swim except the water here is pretty yukky. When I was unloading the canoe I almost didn't get a sneaker out of the mud. The phone seems to go through half a charge per day. It is on and used primarily for photos. Here is charging Big Blue and drying out water shoes.



After lying quietly for an hour in the shade I had a couple of birds come close, apparently unaware of me. A couple of calls. The first I thought was a squirrel but the calls became too varied for a squirrel. It was not repeated calls, but calling one new one after another. Listening to the second call, it occurred to me to see if Merlin would work out here. For those who don't know, Merlin is an app that identifies birds by calls, among other things. Merlin identified the second calls as a Dark-eyed Junco. The third call was the chip, chip, chip of (of all things) a Palm Warbler. Palm Warblers are all over Florida and it seemed to me unlikely it would also be here in Saskatchewan. Turns out, the bird was poorly named, hanging out more in conifers than in palms.

I "combed" my hair with my fingers. I forgot a comb, if I haven't mentioned that already. I also forgot my rain skirt. An inventory indicates I have way too much fuel. It takes a microscopic bit to boil a cup of water. The insulator for the freeze-dried dinners is definitely a plus. Keeps the food hot and pleasingly edible. The Big Blue charger is super great.

More about the moose. I quit watching him and later saw he was much closer. At this point he noticed me. He looked and looked, cocking his head from side to side. He walked out of the deep to the shallows so he was silhouetted like Bambi's father - king of the forest. I could clearly see his broad shoulders and muscular legs, his dark brown mane and dewlap. He finally decided I was no good, turned back wading through the deep pool and out the other side.

Later in the day, while canoeing into deep water to collect clean water, I saw aquatic grasses on both sides of the river. On his side, the grass was dark green and another branched plant that looked like plants I have seen in aquaria. On my side, the long lustrous grass was almost chartreuse. I'd rather eat on my side, too.

I don't see the beaver again. How many days behind am I putting his food stores?

Two odd sounds today. This morning there was a growl, sort of like a cat growl. I spent some time looking around and yelling loudly in case there was a bear. This afternoon I heard a loud bark, but no other sound or sign. I have also heard osprey, but have not seen any.

What I am looking for may no longer be found. Partly like the saying that you can't step into the same river twice. AI says: The famous quote, attributed to the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus, is "No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it is not the same river, and he is not the same man". This quote emphasizes the constant flux and change that characterize both the natural world and human experience. Partly because of the explosion of people, technology and infrastructure. Not only are there more people, but everyone on the internet can read about every river. A relationship that can be intensely private is now exposed to the entire world. And that Zoleo keeps nagging at me.

I've wanted to call off this trip at some point or other nearly every day. I've never before felt like that on a canoe trip, no matter how difficult it got. One has to wonder how much of it is due to the Zoleo. I am slightly relieved that I am passed the point of an easy pick up. The thermometer says 95F. No wonder I am uncomfortably warm.



September 1, 2023, Friday

I woke early and got everything packed up except the tent when it started blowing hard and raining. So I climbed back into the tent, deciding to give it to 10 am when the sun started peaking out and there were bits of scattered blue. Broke camp and finalized getting going and BLAST came the wind driving dark clouds. I launched anyway. The RII was easy. It's the little stuff that is causing me more problems. Suddenly, out of nowhere, appear a huge rock. Up until this time, all the rocks were smaller than bowling balls. I back-paddled like crazy and didn't quite make it. BANG on the right. Dancer falls left and self corrects, righting herself. I helped as much as I could, but I know I would have been swimming had I been paddling my Mohawk 13. Heard a loud crack, but nothing was leaking so on I paddled.

The river broadened to almost a shallow lake. I saw a big brown thing in the water and thought it might be a derelict weather station, but upon closer inspection it was a moose. A bit later, another moose. I was sorry to interrupt their dining.

This river is long continuous rapids and what the Quebecois call "eau vive." I follow the current as best I can to stay out of the rocks, but was not always, or even often, successful. I got hung up in very fast current. I leaned to the rock side and sailed off beautifully. It is so nice when these things work! One advantage of the fast current is the force to move the boat off the rocks is strong, which helps. Ran into some seriously big waves. Not a ledge that I could see, but piled up water too big for an RI. You just can't relax in this river. You can't stop. There's no place to stop. No eddies and the current runs hard all the way to the shore.

I saw an osprey today, lots of ducks and some geese. There seemed to be some loons and I found a nook to take a break. Had magical mango rolls. Nothing special. I just feel an affinity for mangos and they seem to fill me with more than calories. Paddled another hour and a half and then stopped here even though it was not ideal at all. I was exhausted, mind and body. But it was not hard to unload and get the canoe out of the water. I'm trying to get going early tomorrow. Today has been cold, but I've been wearing shorts and an NOC t-shirt so when the adrenaline wears off, I'm cole. I'd really like to go home. This is not my kind of river. Although I am getting the hang of it. I need to get warmed up soon.

Exhausted, I stop at the only barely possible place to camp and walk all over the area and there is no flat place for a tent. I am harassed by two white-faced hornets, which was moderately disturbing as I am allergic to bee stings. Probably not hornet stings, but it still is unsettling. It occurs to me there could be a hornet nest somewhere nearby, so I stay alert while tramping over the area. I end up spraying Deep Woods OFF! at them frequently and this keeps them at bay. I end up pitching the tent so that a moose trail runs down the center line.

There's more, but when I hit reply, it said I was overlimit for words. So on to the next...

 

[Erica]

Cree River, Part 10
September 3, 2023, Sunday.

Again in this narrative, I'm going to be inadvertently mixing up September 2 and 3. Yesterday (the 2nd) was a long day for me and I was too exhausted at the end of the day to write. There were many rapids, but also a troublesome gusty wind. At one point, in the middle of a wide turn left, it was all I could do to hold the canoe steady while the wind beat at us to turn us and carry us away. The problem is the stern is too light. I found I got better torque if I leaned back for stern strokes. I'm deliberately loaded a bit bow heavy because the canoe cuts through the waves better. Except when the wind takes over.

There was no way I was going to make that turn. My only hope was to hit gently on the RR bank at the bottom of the curve,and go on from there. I set the angle and struggled to keep it steady, but was successful. The bank was covered with Labrador tea, but I was able to stay out of the worst of it, reset and move on through the next rapids. See the my drawing (To come later. I don't have it with me.)

Had another big straight on WHACK as the bow rammed an invisible rock head on. More chips in the bow to repair with duct tape. I hope it lasts the trip!

Unless one is a whitewater enthusiast, this is not a friendly river. It is capricious and requires constant attention. Good camping places are hard to find. The river gives very little time for taking a break, gobbling a snack, checking the map, although more places are appearing. Some bays provide relief. I checked an island campsite, a riverside spot with bay access, but it was not good. The access was terrible and the ground lumpy. But the bay did give me a chance to harve a snack and drink water. I've been using Xtend plus sugar and find it hydrating.

"Yesterday" morning (probably the 2nd) I started breaking camp at 8 am and got on the water at 10:15. That's without breakfast. Just packing up and tying down. For some reason, I think this is too long and if I were a better camper, I'd be able to do it in an hour. When I read other trip reports, it seems to take a similar amount of time.

I tried to keep an eye on the compass to document when the "5 miles west" would be, per Archer's book, but the river twists too much. From the river, one can't see the "average" straight line west.

I finally found an okay campsite yesterday (?). I've learned I don't need a perfectly flat place for sleeping. Last night I slept catty corner and was always slipping a bit downhill. But slept well and woke refreshed. More geese greet the morning. A flock flew right over head, their wingbeats causing a fluttering of tent fabric. They had no idea I was there, apparently. There have been red squirrels at every campsite. Constant companions since first mentioned. I was going to say the squirrels were my guests, visiting my camp when it occurred to me this was their home. And I was an unwelcome or at least an uninvited guest.



This is not cloud or mist. It is smoke. And it is everywhere. It's not hard to breathe, but you notice it. The wind was blowing hard and it still looked like it could rain at any time. So I put up a tarp over the tent. At times, the wind blew the tarp right onto the tent wall.

I had a rest day in camp. I huddled under the down bag in the tent. It is cold and dreary. This is the worst of three days of smoke. I just sent out my Zoleo "OK" message which I send out each day as a concession to Brad. I had a good day in camp, starting to feel the rhythm of the land and water. Time to let my mind wander and enjoying camp life. More geese fly overhead throughout the day. I took a very short walk up the hill. I am camped at the foot of this hill. There is a "bench" with lots of clear woods and flatness. If you want to haul all your gear up that hill, which I don't, it would make a nice camp. Parts are burned and some not. In the burnt area jack pine seedlings are crammed together, so that you end up with a thick monoculture of jack pine all the same age. These are about 2 feet tall. I've seen some areas of five feet tall seedlings. It looks like a nursery grove, artificially planted.

I found out why the iphone battery was going down so quickly. When I rebooted, it went back off battery save mode.

I rearranged the packs today. It looks like I have left behind somewhere a liter bottle of fuel. Darn it. Of course it still could be somewhere.

I repaired the bow with more duct tape. This was an interesting day, with more tales to tell. But those are for the next installment

 

[Ralph]

Wow, two installments for the price of one. Keep writing! I am really enjoying your report. Many thanks.

 

[Gamma1214]

For some reason, I think this is too long and if I were a better camper, I'd be able to do it in an hour. When I read other trip reports, it seems to take a similar amount of time.

My experience has varied. Typically, I don't get on the water very fast, as morning is my favorite part of the day. Whether camping or at home, I'm often up at first light and enjoy watching the world around me come to life. The unhurried pace of the mornings also lends itself well to making actual coffee which I enjoy as well. Needless to say, 2 hours to get on the water seems very reasonable unless, of course, you're unfortunate enough to be camped in bug central.

There was one site this past summer that I think I went from "unzip the tent flap" to "paddle away quickly" in well under 30 minutes. Coffee, food, everything could wait until later.

Always appreciative of TRs & additions thereto... Thanks for the update!

 

[Ralph]

I echo what Gamma said. I generally consider 2 hours to get ready in the morning as a standard, keep moving but not rushing, timeline. As part of the description of a typical day for "people who are new to us" trippers, I tell them "up about 7:00 a.m. and on the water by about 9:00 a.m.". But, as Gamma said, that can vary with weather, bugs, need to cover some distance or not, etc., etc. I'm not sure that I could do 30 minutes but probably one hour if required.

 

[PaddlingPitt]

You have a lot of perseverance, Erica. On our canoe trips, on pleasant mornings, it usually takes three hours from getting up to putting on the water. But who cares? It’s our morning and we want to enjoy it. There is no schrdule. No imperative to get on the water quickly. Unless. of course, Kathleen and I want to.


Here we are, relaxing after our morning bannock, on Lynx Lake, NWT.