Triplogs / Triplog#21 / Day 3 / Day 4
Kawawaymog Lake(IN) - Amable du Fond river - N. Tea L - Lorne L - Kakasamic L - Mattowacka L - Fassett L - Shad L - Shada L - Fassett Cr - Manitou L - N. Tea L - Amable du Fond river - Kawawaymog Lake(OUT)
Day 4
Some of the real estate on my campsite on Shad Lake
Believe it or not, this was the only spot on the entire site, where I was able
to seek shade from the sun(Except late afternoon or in my tent).
I awoke at 7:30 a.m., it was clear and sunny, I had the feeling it was going to be another hot day. I had decided to stay on the site for the scheduled second night, and looked forward to a quick morning paddle around the lake before the sun really woke up and started to fry me again. I made coffee and by 8:15 a.m. or so, I was preparing to launch my canoe, when I heard the most horrible noise. The hum of logging equipment, buzzing away in the forest, across from me, north of the lake. What the hell?
I had checked my route out previously, comparing it to the AFA's scheduled harvest map. There was to be no logging anywhere near my route. I pulled out my map, to have another look. Ahhhhh. What I suddenly realized, was that the logging was taking place outside The Park boundary, I was very close to it, I guessed the boundary to be 800m or less, from the northern end of Shad Lake. There was nothing that could be done, and there was no way I could have foreseen that. Obviously, logging outside The Park, fell under a different authority. I sat and stewed for about 45min, deciding what to do. I finally decided I wasn't going to sit and listen to that buzzing all day. It's one thing to expect the buzz of mosquitos, but not loud logging equipment, ripping trees apart. I packed up and decided to head to Fassett Lake, possibly Shada Lake. I made my way onto Fassett proper and donned my pullover, man, that June sunshine was strong!
Approaching the narrows: Heading back to Fassett Lake
I paddled around Fassett's north shore, spotting ducks and a few loons, there were a few small islands as well. This lake was really beginning to grow on me, It was a visual treat. I spied the two campsites, one on the south shore and one near the 1025m portage to Shada Lake. Both looked ok, they had rock outcropping by the looks of it, especially the one next to the portage. Along the north shore of Fassett, I could still hear the logging operations going on, it was faint, but still persistent, still there. "That's it, going to Shada, camp on that nice island there", I thought to myself. By 11:30 a.m. I landed at the beginnings of the 1025m portage to Shada Lake. It was a sloped landing, as one has to climb to higher ground to the start of the portage. I hung around for 30 minutes or so resting, the sun was hot, and I was baking in my pullover. I had no choice, bake or fry, stay put and put up with the noise, or move. I chose to move and bake! I remember this portage as being quite rugged and mostly an uphill climb to Shada Lake. There was some up and down climbs and they weren't shallow either. Heading back to Fassett after my first pass, while coming down a hill, something moved into the bush off to my right. I stopped and peered into the forest. I couldn't see anything, but continued to hear something large moving around. I didn't hear any hooves, so I thought perhaps it was a fleet footed deer or maybe even a bear. It was over in a minute, and I moved on. Returning to pick up my canoe, I could still hear the hum of machinery in the distance, I felt as if I had been ripped-off, a chance to explore Fassett lake, had been taken away from me. I vowed to myself, that one day I would come back, I turned my back upon the lake and headed up the trail once again.
Paddling Fassett Lake:
Not a soul around(Except you can't see the logging noise in this image)
The Landing at the portage to Shada Lake
By 1:30 p.m. I launched onto Shada Lake. Shada Lake was interesting to look at, it had a nice hill line sloping down the length of the shoreline, and to the west end of the lake was a swamp. The area had a real wild look to it, and many birds called about. I headed towards the island, from a distance there was something odd about the island. Everywhere I looked, shorelines were laden with green. However, the island was not all green, but looked green, brown and more brown. As I arrived at the island, I was disappointed to see the island had been razed by fire. I surmised a lightning strike did the damage. There was perhaps two live trees at the point where a landing was, and every other tree on the island was burnt and falling over, and there were great many of them. Had the island not been destroyed by fire, I think the campsite might have been nice, large rock outcropping with plenty of trees for shade. I looked at the north shore site, it looked bushy, with a sloped outcropping of rock or sand, and considering the view south, of the island, I decided not to camp on Shada Lake. "Where to now?" I thought to myself. Consulting my map, I saw there was no other campsites, except on Manitou Lake, which was still quite a journey, I wasn't supposed to be on Manitou Lake till the next day. I considered what to do. "Ah hell", I thought, "Push onto Manitou then I can relax for 3 long days, big lake, big breeze, no bugs. Yeah that's it". So there I was, going off route again, a practise I personally frown upon, but keep on doing myself, what a hypocrite I was becoming!
Destruction on the island campsite on Shada Lake.
Note: North shore campsite just visible to the left of the island
I was shocked and disturbed by the sight before me.
I couldn't even locate the campsite signage, I figured the site was closed anyways...
According to the fellow at the permit office, the site was still open!
Really? Are you kidding me?
It was almost 2 p.m. when I headed east down Shada Lake. It was hot. I had already consumed more than 3 litres of water that day, and I pumped more, before heading to Fassett creek. East gate temperatures record 31.7°C, with a humidex of 37°C, and I was wearing a pullover! WHEW! As I paddled to the east end of the lake, it became more and more narrow. Eventually I came to the end. A logjam. It looked to me the beavers were building a dam using the logjam as a foundation on which to build. The logjam appeared to be very old. It was quite shallow, and wondered what to do, as I became confused, looking around me and my map over and over again. The creek beyond the logjam was not navigable. Too shallow, too narrow. So where was the portage? There was supposed to be a 120m portage, I guess to get around the un-navigable part of the creek ahead. l turned around and headed back the way I came, as I has noticed earlier, a clearing not 100m up the lake. As the clearing came into view, a cow moose and a calf emerged from the forest at the top of the hill where I thought I had seen a trail. The moose and I watched each other for a few minutes. Me trying to decide, where to go, the moose wondering when the hell I was going to make up my mind and stop staring at it. The moose made up her mind before me and popped back into the forest and disappeared with her calf in tow. I landed and looked around. There was no trail, a faint game trail, but no portage. It was nice to see the moose and was glad I was rewarded in some way for my efforts, mis-guided as they were. So I headed back to the logjam, thinking once again from a trip a year ago, "follow" the creek", never leave the creek. I arrived, got out, pulled my canoe over the dam, and stood there in the shallow cool water, looking around...nothing. I proceeded to drag my canoe down Fassett creek. Not 10m go by, and I see the portage sign to my left, on a tree. It had been concealed by overgrown brush. It was not possible to see it from the lake, even after I had crossed the dam. What I should've done, was to scout ahead on foot first. Seemed I was making lots of mistakes this trip. What next?
Portage crossing Fassett creek
The watery & rocky landing at the 1325m portage along Fassett Creek
By 3 p.m. I was on the stretch of Fassett creek between the 120m & 1325m portages. It was narrow, green, overgrown, and very very buggy. The sun was blazing, and the bugs were a feeding on me. This was starting to drive me just a little nuts. Was there no relief? Not 15 minutes later I arrived at the 1325m portage. I had to get out and drag my canoe for a few meters through tepid looking water, over 'hippo' rocks, to get to semi-dry land. The beginning of the trail was a total bug trap. Shoulder high bush grew across the trail, obscuring the narrow footpath as it made a long shallow ascent. Bees, skeeters, deerflies, even a horsefly or two..all of them threatened me as I passed through the gauntlet. I made it and continued on, with my pack. The portage was the roughest one of the trip so far. The trail had been cleared many years ago, it was wide at one time, but only a narrow footpath remained, the rest was overgrown with lichens and grasses. There were several fallen trees that had to be overcome, one particularly nasty one, took me about 10 minutes to hack my way around it. It was hot work. The trail continued to climb and twist and I stopped about halfway for a rest, drank more than half a litre of water, and bugs soon got me going again, I just couldn't stand being eaten alive anymore. At one point along the portage, I came upon a flat open exspanse of tall grass. It was an almost dry swamp. Approximately a 40m stretch of watery, rock strewn, and crumbling boardwalk had to be traversed to get through the swamp. It was tricky, because of the overgrown grasses made it impossible to see where or what your foot landed on. Once I nearly twisted my ankle as I slipped on a rock. The boardwalk, or what was left of it, was half buried in water. This portage was in desperate need of attention.
By 3:45 p.m. I reached the creek, looking at my map, I saw the portage crossed the creek, near the end of the trail. There was no boardwalk, I had to hop from rock to rock to get across, rugged indeed. Once across the creek it is only about another 100m or so to the end of the portage. It was quite a battle though, for the terrain becomes difficult. Steep short up and downs, with lots of tree roots, mud, and rocks to challenge your ankles. I set my pack down and dreaded heading back for the canoe, it seemed so far away. This was truly a miserable portage.
The lost portage: After dragging my canoe over rocks,
I found deeper waters and the 120m portage along Fassett Creek
This image shows the lack of frequent travel along
the Fassett Creek 1325m portage.
Bugs and heat galore!
Once passed the wet/dry swamp, something strange happened to me. I stopped and suddenly felt lost and confused. I was asking myself, as I looked down the trail, "Hadn't I been here before?". I turned around, and looked back up the trail, turned around again. I was really becoming confused. Of course, I had just come this way. I shrugged the thought off, and continued down the path. I eventually returned for the canoe, ate some wild raspberries growing there, drank some water and lifted the canoe onto my sore shoulders and proceeded up the trail. Once again, just before I hit the dry swamp, after struggling with the canoe to get around a fallen tree, the feeling of confusion returned, stronger than before. I put the canoe down, what the hell was wrong with me? I had plenty of water, It was hot, and but felt I was used to the heat(wearing the pullover didn't help), I figured I was fine. Or was I? Suddenly I realized I was experiencing 'disorientation', one of the first signs of heat-related illnesses. I was really taken aback by this thought. I had plenty of water and gorp. I had been keeping myself hydrated with lots of water, even to the point where I felt bloated. I couldn't understand why this was happening. I pushed on, determined to get to Manitou as quickly as possible. Just as I arrived at the creek crossing again, a chill swept over me. Huh? Crossing the creek, I staggered up the small incline, another chill, this one more violent. and another, then another. Why the hell was I suddenly cold on such a hot June day?
I put the canoe down, tore my pullover off, picked up the canoe, and finished the trail. I loaded the canoe, and almost fainted as I lifted the pack into the canoe. That was it. I immediately stopped what I was doing. I moped my brow, except there was no sweat to mop. Oh man, I was in real trouble now. I didn't understand the dynamics of heat exhaustion or even heat stroke, but I was aware of the symptoms. The chills were the result of my body's cooling system shutting down. I was over heating...heat exhaustion. I still couldn't understand why, I was well hydrated. I walked back slowly to the creek, more chills wracking my body. Finally I reached the creek and sat in the middle of it, on a rock. I considered dunking myself in the creek, but wondered if such a shock of cool water might cause more damage. I dangled my feet in the water, and soaked my t-shirt, and wrapped my head with it. For 45 minutes, I sat on a rock semi-naked under the blazing sun. Drinking straight from the creek, I slowly began to feel better. After almost an hour, I felt much better, no more chills, no more disorientation, and slowly walked back to my canoe. I slowly paddled to the next portage, a 200m shorty, although I don't remember it at all. I do remember after launching on Fassett creek after the 200m portage, a sinking feeling hitting me as I paddled out into tall bug laden grasses. However, not 5 minutes after that, I came upon a widening of the creek, which gave way to low lying banks, it was 6:15 p.m. Finally I was out of bug hell. Still no breeze, and now I was starting to get a headache. Was I starting to suffer from heat stroke? I knew that that heat stroke was worse than heat exhaustion, and that one can suffer organ damage too. I was confounded. All I knew to do was keep the pullover off of me, keep hydrating myself, and keep going at a much slower pace. Despite my situation, I enjoyed the paddle along the longest stretch of Fassett creek, it was wide, with almost no current to speak of, I took my time soaking in the views and the distant hill line encircling Manitou Lake. I kept re-soaking my shirt and applying it to my head. I saw a group of 4 otters, they began to hiss at me as I passed them by. With no more deadly heat of the forest, bugs, and portages to weigh me down, my mind and body felt invigorated...soon I would be on Manitou!
The stretch of Fassett Creek between the 200m & 155m portages:
Manitou isn't too far away!
After what seemed like days I arrived at the 155m portage to Manitou Lake. The short portage was hell, loaded with ferns, mosquitos came and attacked me in furious hunger for blood. I was in such pitiful condition. I hurried, just throwing gear into the canoe, not caring if anything was positioned properly or broken by my carelessness. Finally, shortly after 7 p.m. I was on Manitou Lake. I hurried not for the lateness of the day, as June has the longest days, but to get away from the bugs. The bugs from the portage followed me onto the water, and were feasting upon my crispy flesh. It wasn't till I arrived onto the exspanse of Manitou that a breeze stirred and I wasted no time cursing a farewell to the skeeters. It was 7:35 p.m. I headed towards a lone island campsite in the middle of Manitou Lake, which sits north of a larger island with three campsites on it. At 7:57 p.m. I landed in heaven!
Manitou Lake! Finally free of the June jungle heat and bugs of Algonquin's forests,
I paddled onto a relatively calm Manitou Lake
Once on Manitou Lake proper,
I headed straight for the lone island campsite in the middle of the lake.
Behind the island, is a much larger island with three campsites on it.
The campsite was a total dream. A vast open area on the south side of the island a few meters above the water, with a massive fire-pit partially shaded, lots of tall pines, that offered shade from the sun. Two suitable landings. One on the east side, on a sizeable shallow rock landing. The other landing where I arrived on the west side, a small sand beach, with a shallow area, fantastic for swimming. It was muggy that night, with a temperature of 24°C, and a humidex of 32°C at 8pm. I set-up camp in a hurry, ate some re-hydrated mashed potatoes and corn, had coffee, and with camera in hand watched the sun go down, mere minutes before 9 p.m. By 9:30 p.m. the bugs came out, later than I was used to seeing them, but I was happy the skeeters showed up late for dinner! At 9:45 p.m. A canoe came paddling by from the north, at first I thought perhaps it was a moose, but it turned out to be two guys in full bug gear. Bug gear? I guess I could've used some of that, however I've only considered using bug gear during black-fly season, although my experience of the last few days, made me consider otherwise for future June trips. I'm not comfortable paddling at night, especially by myself, and was ready to offer to share my site, but the canoeists passed me by heading south. These were the first folks I had seen since my first day in. I went to bed around 10:30 p.m. truly exhausted.
Closing in on my heavenly island paradise
After I made camp, I strolled down to the beach landing to relax
Sunset on a muggy night in June: My first night on glorious Manitou Lake
>Next Page - Days 5&6