Well I finally got caught up... thanks for writing about your adventures! I am greatly enjoying your trip,
Jason
Jason
-
Happy Thanksgiving, USA! 🦃🍗🥧
Wollaston Lake to Goose Lake (Nunavut Border) and back
- Thread starter Alan Gage
- Start date
Amazing story. Great writing Allan, Thanks
Oh man, I'm gonna be in trouble tomorrow at work when I go onto this site to find out what happens next! Great job Alan! That bear part had me wondering. Loved the SNL mention.
The next day dawned bright and clear. After letting things dry in the morning sun for a few hours I set off upstream a little after 11:00. A short 10 minute paddle brought me to “Bear Portage” where I started by checking the opposite bank to see if there was any sign of a portage over there. I didn’t see one but I did spot my first Harriss'’s Sparrow of the trip. They’re one of my favorite birds and getting to see one in it’s limited breeding range was special.
So it was back over bear portage one more time. I figured by the time you count the initial scouting trek I walked that portage 12 times and I’m pretty sure I never used the exact same route twice. Sadie is usually pretty good about following portage trails but even she had difficulty keeping a steady track here as I kept laying down multiple scent paths. A couple hundred yards later we were at the base of the rapids that nearly swamped my canoe. As we approached the bottom of the rapid there was an 8lb. pike just hanging out in the eddy. Standing on the rocks at the bottom of the rapid I could get a better look at that big wave that snuck up on me. I either didn’t or couldn’t see it when approaching from upstream but there was a huge boulder buried under water that was deep enough to easily float over but caused a big trough to form just behind it.
I looked the rapid over hoping I could track the canoe up but after some difficulties lining and tracking on last year’s trip I decided this water was a bit too big and fast so I went inland hoping to find a way to carry over. I was able to walk a couple hundred yards upstream but I wasn’t real fond of the idea of carrying my gear over that route. Nearly all the rapids are bound on either side by a wide swath of broken rocks and boulders extending out from shore and rather than fighting my way through the brush I rock hopped along these back to my gear and spent more time studying the water, wondering if I could track it. I again decided against it and, rather than fighting my gear through the woods, settled on a boulder portage instead. I’d portage my gear over the rocks 150 yards or so upstream where there was a short break in the rapids that would allow me to get back in the canoe and paddle partially up the final drop. What I’d do at that point I wasn’t quite sure but I’d find something.
20160816_267 by Alan, on Flickr
Carrying heavy packs over jumbled rocks isn’t particularly pleasant. You’ve got to be sure you don’t step on any snot rocks and also try to avoid any that look like they might move when you step on them. I tried not to think about the consequences of a bad fall. I really wasn’t relishing the idea of carrying the canoe over this so after looking one more time I decided to try tracking the canoe. The 30L barrel was still in the canoe so I tied it in back to lighten the bow and started working my way upstream. Right off the bat was the quickest water and biggest waves but the slight redesigns I’d done to the shape of the bow on the canoe and some moderately improved technique on my part had the canoe skimming upstream quite well. It was a pleasant surprise and after stumbling and tripping my way upstream to where my packs were waiting it was a short 60 yard paddle partially up the final drop where we could get out for a quick drag over a small island and then a mad sprint to escape the fast current at the head of the rapids.
I’d been working hard for 4 hours and had only covered about two miles of water. But to be honest I was kind of enjoying myself. Despite the hard work I like upstream travel. Constant challenges that need to be overcome and a real satisfaction when you succeed. I was over the last of the rapids now and had open water ahead. I planned to return to cemetery camp, from a couple nights ago, but storm clouds started rolling in and it was still 1.5 miles (2.4km) to round the peninsula and reach it. I checked the shoreline on my side of the esker peninsula, which is very steep, and found one spot just flat enough to set up camp. As I was setting up shelter I heard a light ‘tap-tap-tap’ which made me pause and search out the source. It was a three-toed woodpecker, the first I’d ever seen. I watched it for a couple minutes and hurriedly went back to setting up shelter as the rain was just starting to fall.
The rain didn’t last long but the wind sprang up very suddenly and was blowing hard. Hardly a breath of it was reaching our camp but I could hear it whistling over the ridge at the top of the esker and the trees were really swaying. After the rain let off we clawed our way up to the top of the esker and were smacked in the face by a hard west wind. It’s a good thing we didn’t make it to cemetery camp like I’d planned as it would have been exposed to the wind. It turns out our camp was just opposite the small pond we’d seen when exploring cemetery camp and I could almost see where I’d had my shelter set up. We set off following the ridge towards the end of the peninsula. The peninsula was quite narrow where we were camped but as you walked farther towards the tip it expanded. Paddling from shore the peninsula didn’t look like anything special but from up here, high on the ridge with a bird’s eye view of what lie below, it was breathtakingly beautiful. It was like looking down on a golf course with rolling hills and low ground cover. No wonder this place had been used for centuries.
Back in camp, after making dinner, Sadie suddenly started staring intently. I followed her gaze and saw, about 20 yards away, a porcupine. Sadie really want to make its acquaintance but I told her to stay put. I settled down beside her to keep her honest and to watch the porcupine. To my surprise it started slowly ambling towards us. It would walk a few feet, stop for a little chew, and move a few more feet. Never seen one up close before. Cute little buggers. Sadie was trembling but remained a good dog and made no attempt to get closer. I was kneeled down next to Sadie and the porcupine was now within 8’ (2.5m) of us, right on the other side of a downed tree. It was time for us to move but when I stood up Sadie must have seen the movement from the corner of her eye and couldn’t hold herself back anymore. With one leap she was over the log. I yelled but it was too late as I saw her take a little bit at the porcupine. She didn’t yelp but let her momentum carry her past the porcupine and continued running in an arcing curve that put her behind me at the entrance to the tent where she sat and watched from a more respectable distance. I went to give her a look and found not a mark on her. Apparently it happened so quickly the porcupine didn’t have time to get set and raise its quills. But Sadie must have felt something she didn’t like in that little bite she took and decided she wanted nothing else to do with it. Hopefully a lesson learned and she remembers for next time.
20160816_273 by Alan, on Flickr
20160816_278 by Alan, on Flickr
It rained off and on all night long. I’d hoped to take a walk and better explore the peninsula but with skies still threatening and everything being wet from the rain decided not to. Another late start as I waited to be sure the weather was going to straighten out as well as waiting for a little ambition. It only took 30 minutes until I reached the series of small lakes and portages that would carry us over to the Putahow River watershed. Although I wouldn’t be following the Putahow River all the way to Nueltin Lake I now had plenty of extra time to kill and decided to see what the country up there looked like. There were four portages in total. For the most part I was unable to find any of the portage landings but the carries are relatively short and the woods open so by studying the contours on the map it wasn’t a big deal to choose the most likely looking spot and set out with compass in hand to find our way. Along the way I’d come across blazed trees but with so many well worn caribou trails I never knew if I was on the correct path or not. But nevertheless everything got carried over in good shape with the exception of the final portage into Gillander Lake which was an absolute disaster of a burned over and regenerating heck. Picking my way through that mess of fallen down trees and thickly growing brush wasn’t any fun at all and I would have been relieved at the end if it wasn’t for the fact I’d have to cross this same portage again on the return trip.
It was mid-afternoon when we started up Gillander Lake and I stopped for a lunch of almonds, fruit, and M&Ms on a sloping slab of granite that reminded me of my travels on the Bloodvein. Gillander lake, like nearly all the others we'd been paddling, runs NE/SW. It's narrow enough already but then a thin esker nearly bisects in two running most of the length of the lake; broken here and there creating little openings, channels, and bays. Really beautiful country. As we crossed an opening in the esker the canoe was suddenly pushed sideways. We were now on the Putahow River. Paddled down a few sets of small rapids/swifts where I could look down in the crystal clear water and see small schools of whitefish and grayling swimming motionless against the current. Raced approaching storm clouds to a perfect little sand peninsula on Thuytowayozi Lake where we found a place to set up camp in the protection of some small trees at the base of a small esker. That evening I decided I needed a new goal for the trip since Nueltin Lake was now out of the picture. I settled on the Nunavut border as my goal and then settled in for a couple days of being pinned down by rain and the strongest wind of the trip up to this point; as well as another hard freeze that had me wake up to find the condensation inside the tent frozen solid. Flocks of Canada geese began passing overhead on their way south.
My motivation was waning and I wondered if, when the weather cleared, I’d paddle the two short days to the Nunavut border or just turn around and start heading back to the car. I began second guessing my decision to not push on to Nueltin Lake. Was it the right choice or did I chicken out? I was in a bad frame of mind and needed some nice weather so I could get out of the tent and out of my head.
Alan
So it was back over bear portage one more time. I figured by the time you count the initial scouting trek I walked that portage 12 times and I’m pretty sure I never used the exact same route twice. Sadie is usually pretty good about following portage trails but even she had difficulty keeping a steady track here as I kept laying down multiple scent paths. A couple hundred yards later we were at the base of the rapids that nearly swamped my canoe. As we approached the bottom of the rapid there was an 8lb. pike just hanging out in the eddy. Standing on the rocks at the bottom of the rapid I could get a better look at that big wave that snuck up on me. I either didn’t or couldn’t see it when approaching from upstream but there was a huge boulder buried under water that was deep enough to easily float over but caused a big trough to form just behind it.
I looked the rapid over hoping I could track the canoe up but after some difficulties lining and tracking on last year’s trip I decided this water was a bit too big and fast so I went inland hoping to find a way to carry over. I was able to walk a couple hundred yards upstream but I wasn’t real fond of the idea of carrying my gear over that route. Nearly all the rapids are bound on either side by a wide swath of broken rocks and boulders extending out from shore and rather than fighting my way through the brush I rock hopped along these back to my gear and spent more time studying the water, wondering if I could track it. I again decided against it and, rather than fighting my gear through the woods, settled on a boulder portage instead. I’d portage my gear over the rocks 150 yards or so upstream where there was a short break in the rapids that would allow me to get back in the canoe and paddle partially up the final drop. What I’d do at that point I wasn’t quite sure but I’d find something.
20160816_267 by Alan, on FlickrCarrying heavy packs over jumbled rocks isn’t particularly pleasant. You’ve got to be sure you don’t step on any snot rocks and also try to avoid any that look like they might move when you step on them. I tried not to think about the consequences of a bad fall. I really wasn’t relishing the idea of carrying the canoe over this so after looking one more time I decided to try tracking the canoe. The 30L barrel was still in the canoe so I tied it in back to lighten the bow and started working my way upstream. Right off the bat was the quickest water and biggest waves but the slight redesigns I’d done to the shape of the bow on the canoe and some moderately improved technique on my part had the canoe skimming upstream quite well. It was a pleasant surprise and after stumbling and tripping my way upstream to where my packs were waiting it was a short 60 yard paddle partially up the final drop where we could get out for a quick drag over a small island and then a mad sprint to escape the fast current at the head of the rapids.
I’d been working hard for 4 hours and had only covered about two miles of water. But to be honest I was kind of enjoying myself. Despite the hard work I like upstream travel. Constant challenges that need to be overcome and a real satisfaction when you succeed. I was over the last of the rapids now and had open water ahead. I planned to return to cemetery camp, from a couple nights ago, but storm clouds started rolling in and it was still 1.5 miles (2.4km) to round the peninsula and reach it. I checked the shoreline on my side of the esker peninsula, which is very steep, and found one spot just flat enough to set up camp. As I was setting up shelter I heard a light ‘tap-tap-tap’ which made me pause and search out the source. It was a three-toed woodpecker, the first I’d ever seen. I watched it for a couple minutes and hurriedly went back to setting up shelter as the rain was just starting to fall.
The rain didn’t last long but the wind sprang up very suddenly and was blowing hard. Hardly a breath of it was reaching our camp but I could hear it whistling over the ridge at the top of the esker and the trees were really swaying. After the rain let off we clawed our way up to the top of the esker and were smacked in the face by a hard west wind. It’s a good thing we didn’t make it to cemetery camp like I’d planned as it would have been exposed to the wind. It turns out our camp was just opposite the small pond we’d seen when exploring cemetery camp and I could almost see where I’d had my shelter set up. We set off following the ridge towards the end of the peninsula. The peninsula was quite narrow where we were camped but as you walked farther towards the tip it expanded. Paddling from shore the peninsula didn’t look like anything special but from up here, high on the ridge with a bird’s eye view of what lie below, it was breathtakingly beautiful. It was like looking down on a golf course with rolling hills and low ground cover. No wonder this place had been used for centuries.
Back in camp, after making dinner, Sadie suddenly started staring intently. I followed her gaze and saw, about 20 yards away, a porcupine. Sadie really want to make its acquaintance but I told her to stay put. I settled down beside her to keep her honest and to watch the porcupine. To my surprise it started slowly ambling towards us. It would walk a few feet, stop for a little chew, and move a few more feet. Never seen one up close before. Cute little buggers. Sadie was trembling but remained a good dog and made no attempt to get closer. I was kneeled down next to Sadie and the porcupine was now within 8’ (2.5m) of us, right on the other side of a downed tree. It was time for us to move but when I stood up Sadie must have seen the movement from the corner of her eye and couldn’t hold herself back anymore. With one leap she was over the log. I yelled but it was too late as I saw her take a little bit at the porcupine. She didn’t yelp but let her momentum carry her past the porcupine and continued running in an arcing curve that put her behind me at the entrance to the tent where she sat and watched from a more respectable distance. I went to give her a look and found not a mark on her. Apparently it happened so quickly the porcupine didn’t have time to get set and raise its quills. But Sadie must have felt something she didn’t like in that little bite she took and decided she wanted nothing else to do with it. Hopefully a lesson learned and she remembers for next time.
20160816_273 by Alan, on Flickr20160816_278 by Alan, on FlickrIt rained off and on all night long. I’d hoped to take a walk and better explore the peninsula but with skies still threatening and everything being wet from the rain decided not to. Another late start as I waited to be sure the weather was going to straighten out as well as waiting for a little ambition. It only took 30 minutes until I reached the series of small lakes and portages that would carry us over to the Putahow River watershed. Although I wouldn’t be following the Putahow River all the way to Nueltin Lake I now had plenty of extra time to kill and decided to see what the country up there looked like. There were four portages in total. For the most part I was unable to find any of the portage landings but the carries are relatively short and the woods open so by studying the contours on the map it wasn’t a big deal to choose the most likely looking spot and set out with compass in hand to find our way. Along the way I’d come across blazed trees but with so many well worn caribou trails I never knew if I was on the correct path or not. But nevertheless everything got carried over in good shape with the exception of the final portage into Gillander Lake which was an absolute disaster of a burned over and regenerating heck. Picking my way through that mess of fallen down trees and thickly growing brush wasn’t any fun at all and I would have been relieved at the end if it wasn’t for the fact I’d have to cross this same portage again on the return trip.
It was mid-afternoon when we started up Gillander Lake and I stopped for a lunch of almonds, fruit, and M&Ms on a sloping slab of granite that reminded me of my travels on the Bloodvein. Gillander lake, like nearly all the others we'd been paddling, runs NE/SW. It's narrow enough already but then a thin esker nearly bisects in two running most of the length of the lake; broken here and there creating little openings, channels, and bays. Really beautiful country. As we crossed an opening in the esker the canoe was suddenly pushed sideways. We were now on the Putahow River. Paddled down a few sets of small rapids/swifts where I could look down in the crystal clear water and see small schools of whitefish and grayling swimming motionless against the current. Raced approaching storm clouds to a perfect little sand peninsula on Thuytowayozi Lake where we found a place to set up camp in the protection of some small trees at the base of a small esker. That evening I decided I needed a new goal for the trip since Nueltin Lake was now out of the picture. I settled on the Nunavut border as my goal and then settled in for a couple days of being pinned down by rain and the strongest wind of the trip up to this point; as well as another hard freeze that had me wake up to find the condensation inside the tent frozen solid. Flocks of Canada geese began passing overhead on their way south.
My motivation was waning and I wondered if, when the weather cleared, I’d paddle the two short days to the Nunavut border or just turn around and start heading back to the car. I began second guessing my decision to not push on to Nueltin Lake. Was it the right choice or did I chicken out? I was in a bad frame of mind and needed some nice weather so I could get out of the tent and out of my head.
Alan
G
Guest
Guest
Sadie suddenly started staring intently. I followed her gaze and saw, about 20 yards away, a porcupine. Sadie really want to make its acquaintance but I told her to stay put. I settled down beside her to keep her honest and to watch the porcupine. To my surprise it started slowly ambling towards us. It would walk a few feet, stop for a little chew, and move a few more feet.
It was time for us to move but when I stood up Sadie must have seen the movement from the corner of her eye and couldn’t hold herself back anymore. With one leap she was over the log. I yelled but it was too late as I saw her take a little bit at the porcupine. She didn’t yelp but let her momentum carry her past the porcupine and continued running in an arcing curve that put her behind me at the entrance to the tent where she sat and watched from a more respectable distance. I went to give her a look and found not a mark on her. Apparently it happened so quickly the porcupine didn’t have time to get set and raise its quills.
DougD and I were talking about having a dog on a wilderness trip, and porcupine encounters far from veterinary help is my biggest concern. Really glad Sadie dodged that bullet.
They are cute little critters. At a distance.
As a kid I remember my yellow lab getting a porcupine 3 times. She loved those things. The first two times my dad and a friend pulled the quills on the front porch. The third time she was covered from her crotch to her collar, and all over her face. That one warranted the vet. Even had them in her eye. A couple years passed and she became aggressive towards anyone who approached from that injured side. No good for small children... my first memorable heartbreak. I'm glad Saddie just got a warning
Just like the first hard freeze at the beginning of the trip the weather for the rest of the day was just lovely: sunshine and warmish. Warmish means it's comfortable when you paddle and chilly when you stop unless you're out of the wind and in the sun. My mood seemed to improve with the weather and when I shoved off from the beach there was no question in my mind which direction I’d be paddling: North. In about 5 miles (8k) I hit the long stretch of rapids at the entrance to Putahow Lake. The map showed “Husky Portage” running inland to cut off the curve of the river but, as usual, finding the actual portage landing was easier said than done. I never did and instead landed just between a swift that I ran and a rapid I didn’t want to run. Had to climb a very steep ridge and once on the top found the usual maze of caribou trails. There were some blazed trees and broken branches to indicate trails but they led me in conflicting directions and I never was able to find what looked like a solid trail running in the direction indicated on the map. So instead I decided to follow the river and see where it got me. It was a fairly long portage of about 3/4 mile but pretty easy walking and there were multiple trails to follow that paralleled the river. Over the series of rapids the river widens and splits into multiple channels and from what I can see the problem with paddling over them wouldn’t be too big of water but rather a lack of water. I carried about 3/4 of the way down the rapids and decided I could paddle down the last couple drops to save myself some walking. This mostly worked except for having to get out and walk the canoe through a couple shallow sections.
By the time I’d reached Putahow Lake, which is fairly large, there was a noticeable NW wind and some small whitecaps. Thankfully, like some of the other lakes I’d been paddling, Putahow Lake is bisected N/S by a broken esker that creates a chain of islands with narrow gaps between them. I worked my way over to this chain and they provided an excellent wind break and a beautiful shoreline to paddle along. Before long we were over the lake and paddling through a short riverish section before reaching Goose Lake where I made camp on a small island just a few miles south of the Nunavut border.
Another nice day and it didn’t take long until Goose Lake turned into an actual river and we crossed the Nunavut border. A couple more miles and we reached a set of rapids. This is where I decided to call it quits to avoid at least one portage that would be required to ascend it on the return. It didn’t look that big but, like many of the rapids up here, it looked a bit nasty. The current heading into the actual rapids is deceptively fast. The water starts to drop imperceptibly quite a ways above the rapid as the channel is choked down by a wide band of rocks and boulders extending out from shore. The water is smooth and you don’t realize how fast you’re going until you look down into the clear water and see boulders speeding upstream. The shoreline rocks provide little in the way of eddies and make it difficult to get off the water. It’s easy to get too close to the rapids and end up with a real fight on your hands trying to turn around for a landing in a narrow eddy or to paddle against the current. I landed about as far down as I thought I safely could and had to rock hop about 65 yards until I could get a decent look at the rapids. The drop didn’t look too bad except it appeared a large boulder or two forced the water sharply to the left and directly into that shoreline of rocks; creating a big cushion of a wave that curled back to the right. It was so narrow there didn't appear to be any way to avoid it. The fast water continued around the corner but I was done rock hopping so didn’t continue on to see it.
Nunavut:
Nunavut by Alan, on Flickr
Far from feeling triumphant on reaching Nunavut I was instead falling into another funk. I won’t even try to go into all the issues rattling around in my head but will only say that, on a related note, while I’d heartily recommend the book Point Counter Point by Huxley I would not recommending reading it on a solo canoe trip unless you’re a super manly man who is ripping into raw fish with your teeth, wrestling caribou to the ground, and sleeping in hollowed out logs. There are some things that always nag at me a little when I do wilderness trips and parts of this book, which I’'d read while recently wind bound, really brought them out.
I paddled to the opposite bank, which was friendlier ground, took Sadie for a walk, cooked lunch, and just sat and sulked for an hour or two until I mostly got it out of my system and started to feel better. It was still pretty early in the day and rather than spend the night there (it was a less than ideal location) decided to paddle back to Goose Lake to make camp. I was able to paddle up all the swifts and small rapids I’d descended and felt pretty good about it as I was pretty dubious about a couple of them. It didn’t take long to reach the lake and after looking at the map decided I’d have enough time to take a sharp turn to the West and see if I could get into Charlie Lake. The two lakes were connected by a fast flowing little brook that was barely wider than my canoe. I had to track and wade the canoe up through it but it was enjoyable work.
Chute out of Charlie Lake:
20160821_289 by Alan, on Flickr
Once the lake opened up I could see rain falling to the West and it looked to be heading our way. Began searching for a camp site and made one work in a pinch. The storm slid by to the south and the rest of the small showers moving through the area missed us well. It turned into a pleasant evening with nice views over the lake from our elevated camp site. A friend of mine gave me a good dark chocolate bar before the trip and he also gave Sadie what amounts to junk food for dogs. Since this was the half way point we had our treats after dinner. I noticed the sun, which had been setting a little after 9:45 at the start of the trip, was now down at 9:15. This was August 21st and the 20th day of the trip. Studying the map just before bed I realized we’d again crossed the border so it turned out I’d get to spend a night in Nunavut after all. Not pushing for Nueltin Lake was still eating at me.
Alan
By the time I’d reached Putahow Lake, which is fairly large, there was a noticeable NW wind and some small whitecaps. Thankfully, like some of the other lakes I’d been paddling, Putahow Lake is bisected N/S by a broken esker that creates a chain of islands with narrow gaps between them. I worked my way over to this chain and they provided an excellent wind break and a beautiful shoreline to paddle along. Before long we were over the lake and paddling through a short riverish section before reaching Goose Lake where I made camp on a small island just a few miles south of the Nunavut border.
Another nice day and it didn’t take long until Goose Lake turned into an actual river and we crossed the Nunavut border. A couple more miles and we reached a set of rapids. This is where I decided to call it quits to avoid at least one portage that would be required to ascend it on the return. It didn’t look that big but, like many of the rapids up here, it looked a bit nasty. The current heading into the actual rapids is deceptively fast. The water starts to drop imperceptibly quite a ways above the rapid as the channel is choked down by a wide band of rocks and boulders extending out from shore. The water is smooth and you don’t realize how fast you’re going until you look down into the clear water and see boulders speeding upstream. The shoreline rocks provide little in the way of eddies and make it difficult to get off the water. It’s easy to get too close to the rapids and end up with a real fight on your hands trying to turn around for a landing in a narrow eddy or to paddle against the current. I landed about as far down as I thought I safely could and had to rock hop about 65 yards until I could get a decent look at the rapids. The drop didn’t look too bad except it appeared a large boulder or two forced the water sharply to the left and directly into that shoreline of rocks; creating a big cushion of a wave that curled back to the right. It was so narrow there didn't appear to be any way to avoid it. The fast water continued around the corner but I was done rock hopping so didn’t continue on to see it.
Nunavut:
Nunavut by Alan, on FlickrFar from feeling triumphant on reaching Nunavut I was instead falling into another funk. I won’t even try to go into all the issues rattling around in my head but will only say that, on a related note, while I’d heartily recommend the book Point Counter Point by Huxley I would not recommending reading it on a solo canoe trip unless you’re a super manly man who is ripping into raw fish with your teeth, wrestling caribou to the ground, and sleeping in hollowed out logs. There are some things that always nag at me a little when I do wilderness trips and parts of this book, which I’'d read while recently wind bound, really brought them out.
I paddled to the opposite bank, which was friendlier ground, took Sadie for a walk, cooked lunch, and just sat and sulked for an hour or two until I mostly got it out of my system and started to feel better. It was still pretty early in the day and rather than spend the night there (it was a less than ideal location) decided to paddle back to Goose Lake to make camp. I was able to paddle up all the swifts and small rapids I’d descended and felt pretty good about it as I was pretty dubious about a couple of them. It didn’t take long to reach the lake and after looking at the map decided I’d have enough time to take a sharp turn to the West and see if I could get into Charlie Lake. The two lakes were connected by a fast flowing little brook that was barely wider than my canoe. I had to track and wade the canoe up through it but it was enjoyable work.
Chute out of Charlie Lake:
20160821_289 by Alan, on FlickrOnce the lake opened up I could see rain falling to the West and it looked to be heading our way. Began searching for a camp site and made one work in a pinch. The storm slid by to the south and the rest of the small showers moving through the area missed us well. It turned into a pleasant evening with nice views over the lake from our elevated camp site. A friend of mine gave me a good dark chocolate bar before the trip and he also gave Sadie what amounts to junk food for dogs. Since this was the half way point we had our treats after dinner. I noticed the sun, which had been setting a little after 9:45 at the start of the trip, was now down at 9:15. This was August 21st and the 20th day of the trip. Studying the map just before bed I realized we’d again crossed the border so it turned out I’d get to spend a night in Nunavut after all. Not pushing for Nueltin Lake was still eating at me.
Alan
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Alan,
I'm really enjoying this chapter by chapter series.
Definitely the high point of my evenings!
I just did a quick measure from Wollaston to Goose lake...it's like 175 plus miles as the crow flies!!
Did you track your mileage? Oh wait, out and back makes it over 350 miles!! Once I started measuring some of the distances, the magnitude of your trip rally sunk in for me.
Have you settled back in to the work a day life yet? I bet it's hard to transition back.
I'm really enjoying this chapter by chapter series.
Definitely the high point of my evenings!
I just did a quick measure from Wollaston to Goose lake...it's like 175 plus miles as the crow flies!!
Did you track your mileage? Oh wait, out and back makes it over 350 miles!! Once I started measuring some of the distances, the magnitude of your trip rally sunk in for me.
Have you settled back in to the work a day life yet? I bet it's hard to transition back.
It sounds like you had low water for most of the trip? Had to make it tougher for sure.
Very ambitious trip. I imagine a trip like that is a real character builder, I took a 10 day solo trip once and haven't been the same since.
I'm really glad to hear you're enjoying it. I'm having a good time writing it too. I'm not much of a talker or sharer face to face so when people ask me about the trip they usually get the standard, "We had a real nice time....Very remote....Saw some moose and bears....Hope to go back again sometime." It's nice to actually share with people what the trip really was for me. I think I'll print up a few copies to carry around so that when someone asks how my trip was I can just hand them a copy.
Yeah, everything is really big up there, isn't it? When I was first starting to plan out routes in that area I'd zoom in on the map and start following a river system and make up what I thought was a reasonably sized trip. Then I'd zoom back out to see the entire route and realize I'd outlined a huge area that would take all summer to traverse. The huge lakes throw off my relation to scale and I start to think they're normal sized lakes and all the other ones are small lakes. Then I actually measure and realize those "small" lakes are bigger than local lakes I think of as big.
I didn't keep track of my mileage but now you've got me curious so I went and did a quick measure on Google Maps. I came up with 490 miles round trip. I didn't zoom in enough to get all the bends and curves in the river so I'll round it up to an even 500 miles (804km). Sounds about right as I'd roughly measured around 600 miles if I went all the way to Nueltin and back.
I'm getting settled back into the routine. It was easier this year than last. The bad weather at the end of the trip had me dreaming of escaping to a warm, dry and cozy home.
Alan
Yeah, I think it was down a bit. On the way up it looked like more shoreline was exposed than normal and on the way back, after the rains started, I could definitely tell the current was a bit stronger. And not just because I was paddling against it but I could remember looking for current in some narrows when going downstream and on the way back it was obvious.
I talked to a gal at Thompson's Camps in Missinipe on my way home and asked if the weather had been normal. She said the whole summer had been cool and wet but that just a couple years ago it was extremely dry and that the lakes and rivers were way down. So much so that new islands were appearing out their window over the Churchill. Perhaps water levels are still recovering a bit from that.
Yes, character builder indeed. I had character coming out of my ears by the time I got back to the car.
Alan
I'm really enjoying your writing Alan. I'd thought you were a head down nose to the thwart marathoning tripper, racing to the finish. Seems I was wrong. You've filled your days with a zest for wilderness tripping, planning, and being in the moment. I've never been so happy being wrong. I'd have a hard cover copy of this trip on my shelf if I could.
Hi Alan and thanks for posting . You are bringing back a lot of fond memories for me as we paddled from Hidden Bay on Wollaston Lake to the Kazan River and on to Baker Lake last year . A lot of the pictures and discriptions you gave of areas are still fresh in my memories . You also camped close to some of the places we camped . We left Kasmere Lake at the north west corner and took the Little Partridge River up to the height of land and then lake hopped across to Kasba Lake . So keep the story coming . I'm really looking forward to your return trip . scouter Joe
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Guest
Guest
I expect you took more comfort in that decision as the weather deteriorated on the return.
Another wonderful weather day. Other than a couple windy and rainy days the weather since August 9th (this being the 22nd) had been the finest stretch of weather I’d ever canoed it. Perfect autumn weather with warmish but not hot days and crisp nights. The leaves on the birch trees were changing to gold which made a nice contrast with the dark green spruce. Just as at the beginning of the trip it seemed the rain and wind would never stop it was now impossible to believe the weather could ever be anything but pleasant.
I started my return trip with plenty of time to spare. The narrow chutes I’d tracked to get into Charlie Lake the previous day were a fun little thrill ride coming back out. Paddled up some tough swifts between Goose and Putahow Lakes and then decided to call it a day mid-afternoon so that Sadie and I could explore one of the large esker islands that made up the chain across Putahow Lake. On account of the large lakes this hadn’t been an ideal trip for Sadie so far. There just weren’t enough portages. To be honest I would have preferred more portages too. A few portages per day helps break things up but it wasn’t uncommon for us to go 2-3 days with no portages, or maybe just a short one or two. Sadie loves to run and explore and gets antsy being pent up in a canoe all day. Thankfully there was good walking to be had so I tried to stop regularly so she could get a little exercise but it was never as much as she wanted. The island we’d stopped on was fantastic. Some very tall hills with incredible views over the island chain and all the walking we could handle. We spent over two hours walking over the hills and ridges which contained hidden valleys, inlets, sloughs, and ponds and still hadn’t seen it all. Sadie was in heaven and went to sleep a happy dog.
20160822_295 by Alan, on Flickr
Woke up early the next morning to clear skies but off to the north was a very dark bank of clouds that was approaching quickly. I rushed to cook breakfast before it arrived but it beat me. Thankfully it was only a dense fog bank and no rain. The wind did pick up though and it got pretty chilly so after breakfast I holed up in the tent to see what it would do. Cleared off in about an hour and it turned into a lovely day. Wind was quite strong but we were mostly able to avoid it or even use it to our advantage. We made good time and again called it an early day at the large peninsula where the Putahow River debauches into Gillander Lake. Was tempted to keep paddling a few more miles but a very large hill and sandy beach landing convinced me otherwise. Set out to do some exploring and first order of business was to climb that hill where I was surprised to find a lone grave at the top. Three sides of the little fence were still standing.
20160823_301 by Alan, on Flickr
I wish I could come up with another superlative besides fantastic and incredible to describe the views but that’s what they were. We set off walking down a tall ridge and found many moose signs as well as a few caribou antlers here and there. It was again one of those wonderful places where perfect campsites were everywhere with no sign of ever being used other than some old rocks placed in circles. The birch trees on top of the tallest and most exposed hill were almost like bonsai trees. The weather pattern of the past few days held. Nice weather early in the day and then clouding up and fairly windy in the afternoon before calming down again in the evening.
20160823_304 by Alan, on Flickr
20160823_317 by Alan, on Flickr
The next day found more perfect weather and I decided to take at least part of the day off to better explore the peninsula. Threw some food and jacket in a backpack and set off with Sadie to see the sites. We both had a great time poking around on all the different ridges and setting off cross country to find another hill to climb. I thought Sadie might keel over dead she ran so hard. We made it back to camp around noon to cook lunch. In just a few miles I’d run into the portages back into the Thlewiaza watershed so rather than start them late in the day decided to spend the rest of the day on our peninsula. While Sadie napped I lay in the shade and read. Then cooked lunch and then we both napped. Then read some more and puttered around camp. In the evening the squirrels came out and Sadie was kept well entertained.
20160823_303 by Alan, on Flickr
Woke up cold and it was raining lightly. It quit long enough to make breakfast and then started up again. Skies were very low and grey with a north wind. Climbed back in the shelter to wait and see what would happen. No change after a couple hours, still the same light rain/drizzle. Since much of the day would be spent portaging rather than on the water I decided to pack up and go. I had to paddle about 3/8 of a mile into a hard North wind and light rain to get around the point and then turned south and gladly took the tail wind. The rain quit and didn’t start again for the rest of the day, although the skies never improved.
Took about an hour to reach that dreadful little portage out of Gillander Lake. Searched the shore again thinking maybe I’d missed the actual portage (which I probably did) but didn’t see anything. Tried paddling through the slough to the west hoping I could follow it long enough to cut off some of the portage but that was a bust as well so it was back over the burned trees and brush. It’s so nice to have Sadie along on portages like this as she’s usually pretty good about finding and following a trail. Much easier with a canoe on your head when you can just follow the dog rather than look for trail markers or landmarks. Many times I’ll doubt Sadie but more often than not it turns out she was right. So when I started out on the final carry with the canoe I was relying heavily on Sadie to at least lead me over the first third of the trail which involves following a couple moose tracks through the mossy bog before all goes to heck in the trees. I’d walked farther along the shore than I thought I should before turning uphill but knowing that Sadie is always right I kept plodding along after her. By the time I realized she was on the trail of something other than a portage I’d walked well out of my way and was pretty pissed. Sadie kept running down the trail and I finally called her back when I heard her barking at something. Had to put the canoe down and scout a couple times to finally get straightened out and back on track. I was in a pretty foul mood by the time I made it across but after a couple more portages my outlook had improved.
Now, coming down from the north, I found a couple of the actual portage landings and was able to follow the trails to the correct portage landing on the other end. ‘Landing’ really isn’t the right word because the shoreline was no different there than anywhere else; it’s just where the small trail started. Was good to see they were very close to where I’d struck off on my own trails the first time through. Some had blazed trees as markers but other trees were growing up in front so they couldn’t been seen from the water. One had a pair of caribou antlers leaned up against a tree but they were so old and covered in lichens it took a second look to be sure they weren’t just a piece of wood.
20160825_338 by Alan, on Flickr
We made it back to the large cemetery site just downstream from the outlet of Kasmere Lake to spend the night. Took another walk around the area and this time went farther south and west. Amazing area with rolling sand hills and open woods that just keeps going and going. Earlier I’d noticed a narrow strip that was cleared of trees and had what looked like survey stakes pounded in at intervals. They were just sharpened birch branches shoved into the ground but no doubt they were in a very straight line. I followed them a ways and found an actual survey marker from 2014. Seems strange to think of someone being sent out to survey in the middle of nowhere. Wondered how far it went and how much ground they could cover in a day?
The skies finally started to clear up around 7:00pm but then clouded up again before sunset. It was still windy from the north and it was noticeable the temperature had been dropping all day. Weather permitting the next day would find us crossing Kasmere Lake. I was tempted to spend a couple days exploring the lake but was also very desirous to get across as we could easily get windbound on such a large lake. I went to sleep with my fingers crossed.
Alan
I started my return trip with plenty of time to spare. The narrow chutes I’d tracked to get into Charlie Lake the previous day were a fun little thrill ride coming back out. Paddled up some tough swifts between Goose and Putahow Lakes and then decided to call it a day mid-afternoon so that Sadie and I could explore one of the large esker islands that made up the chain across Putahow Lake. On account of the large lakes this hadn’t been an ideal trip for Sadie so far. There just weren’t enough portages. To be honest I would have preferred more portages too. A few portages per day helps break things up but it wasn’t uncommon for us to go 2-3 days with no portages, or maybe just a short one or two. Sadie loves to run and explore and gets antsy being pent up in a canoe all day. Thankfully there was good walking to be had so I tried to stop regularly so she could get a little exercise but it was never as much as she wanted. The island we’d stopped on was fantastic. Some very tall hills with incredible views over the island chain and all the walking we could handle. We spent over two hours walking over the hills and ridges which contained hidden valleys, inlets, sloughs, and ponds and still hadn’t seen it all. Sadie was in heaven and went to sleep a happy dog.
20160822_295 by Alan, on FlickrWoke up early the next morning to clear skies but off to the north was a very dark bank of clouds that was approaching quickly. I rushed to cook breakfast before it arrived but it beat me. Thankfully it was only a dense fog bank and no rain. The wind did pick up though and it got pretty chilly so after breakfast I holed up in the tent to see what it would do. Cleared off in about an hour and it turned into a lovely day. Wind was quite strong but we were mostly able to avoid it or even use it to our advantage. We made good time and again called it an early day at the large peninsula where the Putahow River debauches into Gillander Lake. Was tempted to keep paddling a few more miles but a very large hill and sandy beach landing convinced me otherwise. Set out to do some exploring and first order of business was to climb that hill where I was surprised to find a lone grave at the top. Three sides of the little fence were still standing.
20160823_301 by Alan, on FlickrI wish I could come up with another superlative besides fantastic and incredible to describe the views but that’s what they were. We set off walking down a tall ridge and found many moose signs as well as a few caribou antlers here and there. It was again one of those wonderful places where perfect campsites were everywhere with no sign of ever being used other than some old rocks placed in circles. The birch trees on top of the tallest and most exposed hill were almost like bonsai trees. The weather pattern of the past few days held. Nice weather early in the day and then clouding up and fairly windy in the afternoon before calming down again in the evening.
20160823_304 by Alan, on Flickr20160823_317 by Alan, on FlickrThe next day found more perfect weather and I decided to take at least part of the day off to better explore the peninsula. Threw some food and jacket in a backpack and set off with Sadie to see the sites. We both had a great time poking around on all the different ridges and setting off cross country to find another hill to climb. I thought Sadie might keel over dead she ran so hard. We made it back to camp around noon to cook lunch. In just a few miles I’d run into the portages back into the Thlewiaza watershed so rather than start them late in the day decided to spend the rest of the day on our peninsula. While Sadie napped I lay in the shade and read. Then cooked lunch and then we both napped. Then read some more and puttered around camp. In the evening the squirrels came out and Sadie was kept well entertained.
20160823_303 by Alan, on FlickrWoke up cold and it was raining lightly. It quit long enough to make breakfast and then started up again. Skies were very low and grey with a north wind. Climbed back in the shelter to wait and see what would happen. No change after a couple hours, still the same light rain/drizzle. Since much of the day would be spent portaging rather than on the water I decided to pack up and go. I had to paddle about 3/8 of a mile into a hard North wind and light rain to get around the point and then turned south and gladly took the tail wind. The rain quit and didn’t start again for the rest of the day, although the skies never improved.
Took about an hour to reach that dreadful little portage out of Gillander Lake. Searched the shore again thinking maybe I’d missed the actual portage (which I probably did) but didn’t see anything. Tried paddling through the slough to the west hoping I could follow it long enough to cut off some of the portage but that was a bust as well so it was back over the burned trees and brush. It’s so nice to have Sadie along on portages like this as she’s usually pretty good about finding and following a trail. Much easier with a canoe on your head when you can just follow the dog rather than look for trail markers or landmarks. Many times I’ll doubt Sadie but more often than not it turns out she was right. So when I started out on the final carry with the canoe I was relying heavily on Sadie to at least lead me over the first third of the trail which involves following a couple moose tracks through the mossy bog before all goes to heck in the trees. I’d walked farther along the shore than I thought I should before turning uphill but knowing that Sadie is always right I kept plodding along after her. By the time I realized she was on the trail of something other than a portage I’d walked well out of my way and was pretty pissed. Sadie kept running down the trail and I finally called her back when I heard her barking at something. Had to put the canoe down and scout a couple times to finally get straightened out and back on track. I was in a pretty foul mood by the time I made it across but after a couple more portages my outlook had improved.
Now, coming down from the north, I found a couple of the actual portage landings and was able to follow the trails to the correct portage landing on the other end. ‘Landing’ really isn’t the right word because the shoreline was no different there than anywhere else; it’s just where the small trail started. Was good to see they were very close to where I’d struck off on my own trails the first time through. Some had blazed trees as markers but other trees were growing up in front so they couldn’t been seen from the water. One had a pair of caribou antlers leaned up against a tree but they were so old and covered in lichens it took a second look to be sure they weren’t just a piece of wood.
20160825_338 by Alan, on FlickrWe made it back to the large cemetery site just downstream from the outlet of Kasmere Lake to spend the night. Took another walk around the area and this time went farther south and west. Amazing area with rolling sand hills and open woods that just keeps going and going. Earlier I’d noticed a narrow strip that was cleared of trees and had what looked like survey stakes pounded in at intervals. They were just sharpened birch branches shoved into the ground but no doubt they were in a very straight line. I followed them a ways and found an actual survey marker from 2014. Seems strange to think of someone being sent out to survey in the middle of nowhere. Wondered how far it went and how much ground they could cover in a day?
The skies finally started to clear up around 7:00pm but then clouded up again before sunset. It was still windy from the north and it was noticeable the temperature had been dropping all day. Weather permitting the next day would find us crossing Kasmere Lake. I was tempted to spend a couple days exploring the lake but was also very desirous to get across as we could easily get windbound on such a large lake. I went to sleep with my fingers crossed.
Alan
The following day I was elated to be paddling across the sheet of glass Kasmere Lake had turned into. I was sorely tempted to paddle up the NW arm of the lake to explore, thinking it would be my last best chance at seeing caribou on this trip, but I didn’t know what the terrain was like for hiking and was too afraid of a strong wind coming up in the following days that would easily leave be windbound. So I took advantage of the favorable conditions and kept pushing across the lake. We stopped in the middle of the lake and just floated for about 10 minutes. The gulls and terns had apparently moved south as there was nothing moving over the water and with the lack of wind it was perfectly quiet. Soon after we began paddling again an insignificant wind showed up and took away our glassy surface but was only enough to cause small ripples on the lake. We came across a large flock of white fronted geese floating on the lake that had come down from the north and another flock of Canada geese. The wind slowly increased in velocity the rest of the day but by the time it got significant enough to be a bother we were off the main lake and heading down the narrow channel to Kasmere Falls. Soon after entering the channel we stopped to poke around the now vacant Kasmere Lake Lodge and not long after that we stopped to make camp. Such a relief to be over Kasmere Lake without any weather issues. That would be the last big water until we got back to Wollaston Lake.
20160826_343 by Alan, on Flickr
It nearly drove Sadie nuts to spend such a perfect day stuck in the canoe so once we hit camp, which had good hiking available, we set out on a walk to burn off some of her energy. It can be tough for me to work up the motivation to take a long hike after paddling hard all day but you gotta take care of your dog. Later that night, while cooking dinner, something must have been walking close to camp as Sadie suddenly jumped up and charged up the hill barking like mad. I couldn’t find any tracks and I didn’t hear any noise so I don’t think it was a moose. Sadie wasn’t worked up enough for it to have been a bear. Whatever it was had been seen rather than smelled. Fox? Lynx? Wolf? Martin? Fisher? Turtle? Who knows what will trip Sadie’s trigger.
A few thunderstorms passed through the area but only gave us very light sprinkles. The next morning dawned sunny but soon clouded over with a light SW wind. It took about an hour to reach the CII rapid below Kasmere Falls which I was able to paddle nearly all the way up. Had to get out and pull the canoe over the top drop as the water was just too fast. The rapids up here seemed more amenable to paddling up since instead of being short and steep drops many of them were a little longer with large boulders scattered throughout that provided nice eddies to recover for a minute or two before sprinting to the next boulder in line. Not long after that we arrived at the Kasmere Falls portage and began to tackle it. For quite a while now I’d been double carrying on the portages so instead of four separate trips carrying gear, like at the beginning of the trip, it only took two carries to get everything across. First went the two food barrels and then the gear pack with the canoe. The gear pack and canoe were particularly uncomfortable on the longer portages but the savings in time was worth it. When I crossed this portage heading north I was doing three carries and this time, doing two, it took over an hour less time.
At the end of the portage I stopped to cook lunch and explore what, I realized just a couple days ago, were the remains of an old Revellon Freres trading post, which explains the two old cabin sites I’d come across. Found a lot more rusted tin cans, caribou bones, pieces of old stoves, spent shells, and an old broken engine prop.
Was once a cabin:
20160827_354 by Alan, on Flickr
20160827_355 by Alan, on Flickr
20160813_224 by Alan, on Flickr
The one down side to traveling solo is that you never have any pictures of yourself so I took a second to snap a picture of me cooking my favorite meal: bannock. To eat it I find a comfortable spot to sit down with the pan of bannock in front of me, water to one side, and a jar of honey peanut butter and spoon on the other. Mmmm, mmmm, good.
20160827_352 by Alan, on Flickr
As the afternoon wore on the skies began to look more threatening and I could hear some thunder in the distance. Once again I found myself racing the weather to the old Fort Hall site where I originally planned to wait it out and then decided to spend the night since I wanted to climb up to Kasmere’s grave in the morning and didn’t know if there were any other good camping sites between here and there. It was raining very lightly off and on and Sadie and I set out to do some walking. Went looking for more raspberries but what was left on the bushes was mostly rotten. We followed a ridge to the north, close to the lake, before crossing over a small valley and then up another ridge farther inland that had some some really nice stands of open jack pine and one of the best views of the trip looking NW over the Thlewiaza River valley the way we’d just come. Again I noticed narrow cut through the trees and another survey pin from 2014. Must have been a busy summer for them.
20160827_368 by Alan, on Flickr
20160827_361 by Alan, on Flickr
20160827_362 by Alan, on Flickr
Wonder how far the survey cut goes?
20160827_365 by Alan, on Flickr
20160827_363 by Alan, on Flickr
20160827_364 by Alan, on Flickr
On the walk back the sky was growing darker and the thunder was getting closer. We were nearly back to camp and I couldn’t help but climb a large hill hoping for another nice view. The hill was bald on top but unfortunately too much vegetation on the edges to get much of a look. On the way down the hill I saw something red out of the corner of my eye. When I went back to look I saw a plastic gas can about 15 yards away. When I looked at it closer I noticed about half the top had been torn off by a bear. Now keep in mind I’m not on a trail or anything here; it was just dumb luck I came across it. Despite the imminent rain I then walked about 3/8 of a mile (.6 km) back to the grassy hill where the old fort used to be because I remembered seeing something laying in the grass that I thought was quite a coincidence; the top half of the gas can.
20160827_370 by Alan, on Flickr
20160827_371 by Alan, on Flickr
Got back to camp just as it began to rain. I beefed up a couple tie outs on the shelter and ducked under cover. It quit after an hour so I could cook dinner. The wind switched to the NE and it got noticeably cooler. The last I saw of the high level clouds they were moving in from the SW and beginning to break up but then dark low level clouds moved in from the NE and shut everything out. A NE wind meant a tail wind but, as I mentioned earlier, I don’t trust an east wind. I went to bed wondering what I could expect in the morning. Little did I know it then, but fun time was over.
Alan
20160826_343 by Alan, on FlickrIt nearly drove Sadie nuts to spend such a perfect day stuck in the canoe so once we hit camp, which had good hiking available, we set out on a walk to burn off some of her energy. It can be tough for me to work up the motivation to take a long hike after paddling hard all day but you gotta take care of your dog. Later that night, while cooking dinner, something must have been walking close to camp as Sadie suddenly jumped up and charged up the hill barking like mad. I couldn’t find any tracks and I didn’t hear any noise so I don’t think it was a moose. Sadie wasn’t worked up enough for it to have been a bear. Whatever it was had been seen rather than smelled. Fox? Lynx? Wolf? Martin? Fisher? Turtle? Who knows what will trip Sadie’s trigger.
A few thunderstorms passed through the area but only gave us very light sprinkles. The next morning dawned sunny but soon clouded over with a light SW wind. It took about an hour to reach the CII rapid below Kasmere Falls which I was able to paddle nearly all the way up. Had to get out and pull the canoe over the top drop as the water was just too fast. The rapids up here seemed more amenable to paddling up since instead of being short and steep drops many of them were a little longer with large boulders scattered throughout that provided nice eddies to recover for a minute or two before sprinting to the next boulder in line. Not long after that we arrived at the Kasmere Falls portage and began to tackle it. For quite a while now I’d been double carrying on the portages so instead of four separate trips carrying gear, like at the beginning of the trip, it only took two carries to get everything across. First went the two food barrels and then the gear pack with the canoe. The gear pack and canoe were particularly uncomfortable on the longer portages but the savings in time was worth it. When I crossed this portage heading north I was doing three carries and this time, doing two, it took over an hour less time.
At the end of the portage I stopped to cook lunch and explore what, I realized just a couple days ago, were the remains of an old Revellon Freres trading post, which explains the two old cabin sites I’d come across. Found a lot more rusted tin cans, caribou bones, pieces of old stoves, spent shells, and an old broken engine prop.
Was once a cabin:
20160827_354 by Alan, on Flickr20160827_355 by Alan, on Flickr20160813_224 by Alan, on FlickrThe one down side to traveling solo is that you never have any pictures of yourself so I took a second to snap a picture of me cooking my favorite meal: bannock. To eat it I find a comfortable spot to sit down with the pan of bannock in front of me, water to one side, and a jar of honey peanut butter and spoon on the other. Mmmm, mmmm, good.
20160827_352 by Alan, on FlickrAs the afternoon wore on the skies began to look more threatening and I could hear some thunder in the distance. Once again I found myself racing the weather to the old Fort Hall site where I originally planned to wait it out and then decided to spend the night since I wanted to climb up to Kasmere’s grave in the morning and didn’t know if there were any other good camping sites between here and there. It was raining very lightly off and on and Sadie and I set out to do some walking. Went looking for more raspberries but what was left on the bushes was mostly rotten. We followed a ridge to the north, close to the lake, before crossing over a small valley and then up another ridge farther inland that had some some really nice stands of open jack pine and one of the best views of the trip looking NW over the Thlewiaza River valley the way we’d just come. Again I noticed narrow cut through the trees and another survey pin from 2014. Must have been a busy summer for them.
20160827_368 by Alan, on Flickr20160827_361 by Alan, on Flickr20160827_362 by Alan, on FlickrWonder how far the survey cut goes?
20160827_365 by Alan, on Flickr20160827_363 by Alan, on Flickr20160827_364 by Alan, on FlickrOn the walk back the sky was growing darker and the thunder was getting closer. We were nearly back to camp and I couldn’t help but climb a large hill hoping for another nice view. The hill was bald on top but unfortunately too much vegetation on the edges to get much of a look. On the way down the hill I saw something red out of the corner of my eye. When I went back to look I saw a plastic gas can about 15 yards away. When I looked at it closer I noticed about half the top had been torn off by a bear. Now keep in mind I’m not on a trail or anything here; it was just dumb luck I came across it. Despite the imminent rain I then walked about 3/8 of a mile (.6 km) back to the grassy hill where the old fort used to be because I remembered seeing something laying in the grass that I thought was quite a coincidence; the top half of the gas can.
20160827_370 by Alan, on Flickr20160827_371 by Alan, on FlickrGot back to camp just as it began to rain. I beefed up a couple tie outs on the shelter and ducked under cover. It quit after an hour so I could cook dinner. The wind switched to the NE and it got noticeably cooler. The last I saw of the high level clouds they were moving in from the SW and beginning to break up but then dark low level clouds moved in from the NE and shut everything out. A NE wind meant a tail wind but, as I mentioned earlier, I don’t trust an east wind. I went to bed wondering what I could expect in the morning. Little did I know it then, but fun time was over.
Alan
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G
Guest
Guest
When I went back to look I saw a plastic gas can about 15 yards away. When I looked at it closer I noticed about half the top had been torn off by a bear
A bear with a hand saw?
Cue ominous music.
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