Mark's Algonquin Park Sampler - Triplog#36 - Access#11 - Lake Opeongo - Days 10&11

Triplogs / Triplog#36 / Days 3&4 / Days 5&6 / Days 7&8 / Day 9 / Days 10&11

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Lake Opeongo(IN) - Merchant L - Big Trout L - Hogan L - Big Crow L- Lake Lavieille - Dickson L - Lake Opeongo(OUT)

Day 10 - Sun. September 17th

Temperature Readings:
8am: 13.6°C
2pm: 21.9°C
6:30pm: 20.6°C

It was 9:00am when I got up, slightly hung over. It was another grey day, but it was warm. Some of campers were already packing up, they had about a three to three and a half hour journey ahead of them, to get back to the put-in at Lake Opeongo. There, they had arranged a shuttle to take them back to the access point....saves alot of time. Both Joan and I watched with some feelings of regret as one by one, people started to gather on the beach, to say their farewells, and head out onto the water. The meeting was brief, the good times, very sweet, but all too short. We were all loaded up with food, and no where to go this day, so we said our good-byes, my friend Mike B, the last to leave. I know he didn't want to leave, and I can't blame him. Who wants to leave "Heaven?"

Guncho
                   Guncho takes a break in the midst of packing

Salvelinus, had given Joan some Pancetta, and other assorted meats that he had left over from his trip. Also I had asked if "Sal" had any left over beer, that he might want to leave behind. Sal said he would see what he could do. Sal is a trout fisherman, and he had asked me how my trout fishing was going(As I was new to it), my trout fishing was terrible, I explained. Sal was able to give me a few pointers, and a lure, to help me out. Since that time, I have applied Sal's advice, and been rewarded with my first successful lake trout catch. I had caught many more since his advice was given, but had never landed any. I fish barb-less so, it can be hard most of the time, landing the fish. Sal left behind one plastic bottle of beer...what a treat, and what a savour! Mike and Guncho also left behind a few items for me and Joan. One of them, a birthday present, more booze....*groan*. It was great to see and meet friends both old and new. Everyone was generous in both their company and thoughtfulness. It was a great experience and a part of the trip that we will always remember ..Thank You to all of you who made it to Big Crow Lake!

mike & sal
 Mike B & Salvelinus on the beautiful beach campsite on Big Crow lake



      Salvelinus & Dave Harman paddle out solo onto Big Crow Lake

We watched as canoeing partners Stainless and Guncho and Mike/Laurie departed, as they were the last to leave, I'd swear they had taken the good weather with them, for after they left, it became warmer, but the overcast thickened, and the wind picked up. I was debating whether or not to paddle down the creek a little bit, Dave Harman had reported seeing a few bears not too far away from camp, just down the river. This fact was not revealed at the time, for fear of scaring one of the girls in the party who would've surely panicked. I pulled out my bottle of beer Sal had given me...took a big swig and swallowed and spat the rest of it out. It wasn't beer! It was rum! I'm not one to guzzle booze, but wow what a surprise! I wasn't going to paddle anywhere now! Thanks Sal, I guess I misunderstood you ..thanks for the rum though, it was good, in smaller quantities of course!

Joan & Laurie
                           Joan & Laurie relax on the beach


stainless & guncho
                                 Stainless & Guncho depart

Joan was on the beach, bathing. I laid down in my hammock for a bit, it wasn't long before I hear Joan let out this terrible scream. You'd think she saw a ghost, or a big bad bear. I came running over, "What, what is it?", I asked. Joan pointed to one of her toes. I looked down, there on her baby toe, had to be the smallest leech that ever lived. It was less than the thickness of a dime, about as long as a tic-tac candy, and brown. Why I thought at first it was a spruce needle or something. I know how Joan felt, I don't like leeches either, my problem with them, is seeing them coming..when they are on me, it's no big deal. Really, I thought Joan was over-reacting a little bit. She managed to get it off, probably too young to have teeth! I went back to my hammock. It seemed like the lake was deserted, all other parties on the lake had left, we had the lake to ourselves. It remained windy throughout the rest of the day and into the night, but it did not rain and it remained warm.

last to leave
                     Last to Leave: Mike B & Laurie paddle away,
                           taking the good weather with them
          

Day 11 - Mon. September 18th

Temperature Readings:
7:30am 16.6°C
7:30pm 17.3°C

The worst day of the trip.
It was yet another grey and dreary looking day out, when we got up and packed for our long day down the Crow River, to Lake Lavieille. However, it was still very warm out for that time of the year, I thought to myself. We were pleased with the temperatures, we just wanted a bit more sunshine. We had been given some bad news by our friends on Big Crow Lake; The weather forecast for the coming week called for lots of rain! Now of course we took all this with a grain of salt, since when is the weather forecasters correct?

We departed the campsite by 8:30am, heading down the Crow river, under grey skies. Within in 10 minutes or so of our departure, the 240m portage came into view. We ignored the Giant Pines trail, as we had a long day and had no idea what time we would arrive on Lavieille. I do not remember anything about the 240m portage, which I suppose is a good thing, as nothing stands out in my mind. We paddled on, working our way down the river to the next portage, a short one of 155m. Eventually we came upon the 1220m trail. The trail itself was pretty flat and easy to navigate, however our food barrel was full again, so my weight was quite heavy. I was beginning to resent the 20lbs of boxed red wine Joan had packed for us. Going deep into the back country often, I had learned more and more, about shedding excess weight. As far as alcohol was concerned, I favored liquor, to me it was more economical, weight wise, more bang per ounce, if ya will. Although wine can compliment a meal well, I'd prefer to have water or flavored water with a meal and save a few ounces of liquor for the night time fire. Carrying 20 lbs of wine, was a point of contention between Joan & I. I was thinking about this, as I traversed the 1220m portage, the food barrel heavy on my back, heavy with wine, getting more and more grumpy. I finished my first carry and started back for the second. I was about halfway, when I came upon Joan, who told me that there was a group coming up behind us. No problem, my gear at the end of the trail was out of the way, lots of room for other parties to go about their business. Within in moments, I came upon two fellows, Americans they were, from Texas, with cigars, and with an accent that was outrageous! I passed another fellow, at a canoe rest, with his canoe on the ground in front of the canoe rest. I mentioned that the 'rest' was a way of putting your canoe aside without having to go through the task of lowering the canoe to the ground and picking it up again. The fellow said he knew, and I even offered to help to help him put it up on the canoe rest(I was empty handed), he declined. I couldn't figure this guy out, so I kept on going, I had my own canoe to carry over, and it was coming up soon. I passed one more Texan then came upon an older fella, looking very tired. Ahh...the guide. He asked me if we were camping on the river. I knew that there was only one campsite on the river on the way to Lavieille. I told the guy, that 'no' we were not camping on the river, and if it was empty, it was all his, as we were going all the way to Lavieille. The fellow looked relieved, did he ever looked tired though, I think he was in pain too, but I think my news lifted his spirits a little. I resumed my walk to the end. I soon reached the end, picked up my canoe and headed over one last time.

It was about 11:45am, when we finally finished the 1220m portage and were on our way again. This part of the river was quite pleasant to paddle...long straight sections, shallow turns ..within 30 minutes, all that suddenly came to an end. The river started to twist and snake it's way through the forest. The switch-backs were starting to get annoying after only a few minutes, then it started to rain. At first it was a fine mist, starting then stopping, again and again, then it just started to rain, steady. After another half hour of this, the lone campsite on the river came into view. Oh well, my promise to the guide , we pushed on. After what seemed like hours, we finally arrived at the 385m portage. We completed that and got back on the water in barely thirty minutes, when the sky opened up. It started to pour rain. We came upon a beaver dam, and I told Joan to paddle faster. "What are you doing?", she asked. "We are going to ram the dam", I replied. "Noooo!' Joan says and with that dips her paddle into the water holding it steady, braking, stopping the momentum I was trying to build up. We landed perpendicular to the dam, not what I wanted. I told Joan to get out. I was furious, She stood on shore not understanding. It was then that I realized she had never had to cross a beaver dam before. Also, Joan was wearing footwear, that she could not get wet. Another one of those 'people', I thought to myself. This did not make my task any easier. With Joan standing on shore, not understanding, I tried to pull the fully loaded canoe side ways over the dam. This didn't work of course, so I had to turn the canoe around, and now pull the canoe towards the shoreline, and use the shore to push the canoe over the dam, as the water was very deep behind the dam. Instead of down the middle, where it was all sticks, my canoe protested angrily as I forced it over rocks and gravel along the shoreline on the lee-side of the dam. That is how not to cross a beaver dam I insisted. We got back in, and continued paddling in the rain, with me fuming in the stern. I was starting to get fed up with the rain, and as such made a judgment error. We came upon the 170m portage, and I looked ahead down the river, it looked to have some inconsequential rapids, "Let's skip the portage and run the rapids", I said. We started to paddle down, Joan, insisting, "Pros would scout the rapids first, ya know". "I'm no 'Pro'", I silently shouted back. I was beyond reason at this point, as I let my temper rule my head. It was then the first rock, then the second and third and so on, that we kept banging into that woke me from my rant. Ahead of the rapids, were 'hippo' rocks everywhere. "great" Joan mentioned. We were trapped, we couldn't turn around. I jumped out of the canoe, and sank up to my knees, turned the canoe around and walked us to shore, there I lined the canoe to the portage landing. I could see by Joan's expression, that she was angry too. We were not a happy couple. We completed the portage and started down the river again, when the rain ceased. We then came upon the 205m portage. Joan herself, was furious now. She stumped off first down the trail. I picked up my gear and followed. I was about two-thirds of the way there(this was a short trail), when Joan came storming back, anger in her eyes, as she proclaimed, "I'm not launching from there". What? I reached the end. It was a smooth rock landing, with about a one meter drop to the water. It would make loading the canoe, tricky, but not impossible. I looked up the river. It was all rapids, there was no way we could launch anywhere else. Soon, Joan came back resignation on her face, the realization that this was the only place to launch from. My mood changed then, I apologized to Joan for my behavior, and arrogance. I was just fed-up with the rain, she accepted this and also apologized. I mentioned that we had only one more portage to go, a 110m short hop.

Crow River
Somewhere along the Crow River: I took only one photo the entire day

Within minutes, we came upon the last portage, it started to rain again, I let out a groan, and picked out the barrel, started down the 110m trail. Barely a minute went by, when I came upon a very fresh and large pile of bear scat. I looked around, and continued onwards, seconds later, another pile of fresh bear scat came into view. I looked around again, my alertness level now up a few notches. I arrived at the end, and stood watching the river in the pouring rain for a minute. Down the river about 20m, was a big fish splashing around in the shallows. I headed back to get the canoe. I asked Joan if she had seen the bear scat. She said she had, and just wanted to get this last portage done with, I couldn't agree more. The trail finished, we began our paddle once more. That big fish, still splashing around in the shallows. We were wet, tired and fed up with the rain, that fish knew I was not in the mood to fish, and continued to splash around, until we were almost upon it. I imagined a big fat record breaking brook trout, as we passed by, 11 days and no fish to show for it, and this one practically dancing before my eyes...*sigh*.

With the portages done for the day, our mood lightened a little. The river widened and became much easier to navigate. If it poured rain before, it now became a complete deluge of cats and dogs. The thought crossed my mind, that we could seek shelter, the rain couldn't last like this, but it did, it rained and rained and rained ...visibility was reduced as mist rose, and the intensity of the rain continued to increase. Finally after what seemed like ages, we arrived at Crow Bay, a very large body of water, before one enters Lake Lavieille proper. The rain started to lighten up, and by the time we passed a campsite on the South shore, it had stopped completely. I became jubilant, we were finally free of the rain and the river! My mood seemed infectious as Joan relaxed too, beginning to enjoy the paddle.

As we crossed the expanse of Crow Bay, we spied a cow moose on the South shore. I started to steer in the direction of the moose, but it sensed our presence and started to leave the vicinity. I backed us off, we had no time anyway, it was getting late in the day, we paddled on. We passed through some narrows, and came to another bay, this according to my map, was the last bay before we came upon Lake Lavieille. As we paddled up the bay, our eyes were drawn to a section of the North shoreline, were there was a 'gap' in the forest canopy. As we looked back at a campsite, on the Southeast shoreline, we saw another 'gap' in the forest. This gap was much more defined and 'clean-cut', going straight up a hill. It was quite obvious that a tornado had gone through the area. It was very evident that the tornado came down one side of the bay, crossed the water and continued up the other side. Besides the limited amount of destruction we had seen on the portage to La Muir Lake(from Big Trout), this was far worse, we had heard about the destruction caused by the severe storms in July, but were only now seeing the extent of the devastation. We paddled on, approaching the north shore, when not one, not two, but 5 otters greeted us, hissing and 'mooing' at us, swimming ahead of our canoe. I began to 'moo' back. Joan was delighted at these fascinating creatures, as they led us up the bay. They quickly out-distanced us, disappearing altogether after a few minutes, only to re-appear behind was. I was thrilled too, it added some merriment to our long frustrating day. At long last at around 5:45pm, we came upon the cluster of campsites that guard the entrance to Lake Lavieille. If a tornado had gone through the bay we had just passed, it was here that a hurricane roared through. There was one island that had many trees knocked over right into the water. Two campsites to our left had massive downed trees all over the place, many of them chain-sawed by Park staff, to make the campsites habitable once again. It looks like Park staff had reacted quickly to the situation, for usually in the spring only, all trails and campsites are cleared. there are few crews to attend these areas in high summer, and having to clear such large amounts of damaged campsites and trails, must've been a huge undertaking.

My compliments to the Park staff on a phenomenal job very well done! We paddled out onto the expanse of the lake, The lake was very large, the waters still and placid, with a large black cloud deck hanging over the lake. There was a long island in front of us, the black cloud enhancing the island's silhouette. We pulled up to the site on the left point on Lake Lavieille proper. Despite the work of the Park Staff, it looked like a bomb hit the place, and I had no desire to stay there. I had already wanted to stay on one of the islands on the east side of the lake, the problem was getting there. Joan had remarked that of all the areas she had been in Algonquin, Lavieille reminded her most of Quebec. Lavieille looked wild enough, and to make her feel that she was somewhere much more wild, than Algonquin Park, was a compliment to The Park itself I suppose. We paddled up the shoreline, heading for the next site up the lake, but couldn't find it. It was getting late, past 6:30pm now ...I looked across the lake to the chain of islands in the east. Let's make a break for it I suggested. The lake looked less than inviting with it's black cloud hanging there, but the lake was perfectly still. I completely misread the potential of the situation, and ventured out into the middle of Lavieille. This is probably one of the most foolish decisions I had ever made, yet Joan and I paddled on, I started to paddle harder, doubt creeping into my mind. After about 15 minutes or so, nearly halfway across, a light wind sprang up, then the water stirred with small ripples appearing before us. Five more minutes, a real wind started to come forth, the ripples now turning into waves. On No! What have I done? I had failed to realize the classic 'calm before the storm' scenario. I ignored all the signs. Five more minutes, and it started to pour rain. Not again! The wind subsided, but the waves and rain continued. I headed for the northern most island. We couldn't find the campsite there, and paddle north then east , paddling around the island. As we came upon the south side of the island, I spotted the orange sign of a campsite on the next island south of us. This meant crossing some nasty looking waters, but we really couldn't get any more wet. We were soaked to the core, I was shivering, it was getting dark. Joan was in no better shape, and I wouldn't blame her for thinking she was camping with a fool. Since I had missed camping during the summer, I unconsciously wanted it to be summer. As we approached the campsite(more out of desperation than anything else), Joan reminded me that I had to stop thinking 'summer', this was September, an island campsite was the last thing we wanted to camp on. It was too late now, We pulled ashore, I jumped out to assist Joan, nearly falling into the water, as all the rock was coated with slippery algae growth from the past summer months. We quickly set up the tent in the slashing windy rain. Joan crawled inside, mentioning that she was cold and tired. I told her to get out of her wet cloths immediately and dry off, I would tend to dinner. I believe we were experiencing the effects of exposure and we had to get dry and warm, fast. It had been warm all day, but all that rain was having an effect on us. I dug out the cloths sack and handed it to Joan. She toweled off and got changed, then I pulled out the sleeping gear. I found our portable stove and some instant soup and tea. I didn't bother to set up a tarp. So I crawled into the tent with Joan and partially zipped up the vestibule and carefully made soup on the stove, then we had some tea afterward, it is in situations like this that having a vestibule is wonderful, I never cook like this except in an emergency, and this was an emergency, we were suffering the effects of prolonged exposure, possibly the first stages of hypothermia. Despite the trials of the day(I couldn't believe all this happened in one day), we were safe and healthy in our tent by 8pm that night, we went to sleep, exhausted, with strong winds and rain lashing our tent.

                                                         >Next Page - Days 12&13

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