Triplogs / Triplog#9 / Days 2&3
Day 2
I woke up early, after 7am. It was cold and damp. My back was killing me! I stepped outside. It had rained off and on during the night, the ground was wet and all the trees were raining their moisture upon us still. After breakfast, Oatmeal & bagels, I went for a stroll along the portage to Whitegull Lake. The start of the portage is on the landing to the site, walking north for about 50m, the portage continues east along an old road, for about a third of the portage length. the trail then enters the forest via a small muddy incline..here the road turned south, with another road branching off. Once back in the forest, I noticed how under-used the portage was, yet was very surprised to see almost no blowdowns. The trail was in good shape. Halfway to Whitegull, I did however come across a very muddy section and a blowdown that forced me to climb around the obstruction. Almost within site of the descent to Whitegull Lake, there appears to be another trail branching off, and I was almost fooled into following it, for the actual trail became just as hard to follow as the phantom trail appeared to be. Once at the bottom of the incline to Whitegull Lake, I came across a pitiful excuse for a wooden crossing to traverse some mucky ground...just a bunch of logs half submerged in muck. After this point it is perhaps another 25m or more of spongy and mucky grass to the waters edge. I never made it, as I kept sinking into the mud. With the lay of the lake, I was not able to see the expanse of Whitegull Lake at all, but given the location of this lake in the park, it seems it could be a really peaceful place to be. There is also an old portage that once went from Whitegull to Lake Opeongo way back when. So if you are ever up that way, it might be worth investigating for a daytrip, if ya can find it. I did not have my canoe with me on Whitegull, so that closed portage still remains a mystery for me.
Looking along Hiram Lake's east shoreline
Back at camp, it was easy for us to gather firewood. It was everywhere, tons of dead wood littered the forest floor, mostly pine, and some cedar too. Our site was bushy on the fringes, with very young conifiers, but was open and had a great view of the lake, looking southward. There was also the portage and the road, as well as what looked like old trails, perhaps spurs of the Dogsled trail crisscrossing our area to explore. We needed water, and my brother decided to go out in the canoe by himself, and filter the water. With Mike never having really canoed before, much less on his own, I gave him a few paddle stroke lessons, made sure he put on his PFD, and reminded him how cold the water was. I was hesitant to let him go by himself, but I'm not his old man, and didn't want to be like one to him, I was his brother, so I let him go.
Weather conditions were favorable that day, it was a dull gloomy overcast day, not a drop of wind, and the other party of 4 guys were out on the lake fishing..well two of them were...so in that respect, it was good to know there was another chance of rescue should the worst happen. I watched my brother like a hawk, he came back in after about 40 min...paddling around, filter water, getting a taste of the solo experience.
A few breezes stirred and blew him off course a few times, however Mike made it back with no trouble at all, his first experience a pleasant one.
Looking south across Hiram Lake: South site on the point-middle right
Later in the morning, a canoe approached, and landed at our site/portage. It was a father/son pair. They were headed to Whitegull Lake for a few days. Exchanging info, I told the father that they should have Whitegull to themselves, as no one had passed by us. The father had told me that they had in fact taken the official route up from the sanitation station off of Highway 60. Asking about the flooded portage, I was informed that it is only about a 100m or so, then continues on higher and firmer ground. Although he described the portage to Blackfox Lake being choked with deadfall/blowdowns. The winter off 2003/2004, was an especially bad year for blowdowns, as there were a number of windstorms throughout the winter. I was also informed that the creek from Redfox Lake to Hiram lake was passible, with only one or two logs to bypass. The Father also told me of the lone campsite on Blackfox, telling me it is a very nice site.
In the early afternoon, I was reading a book, when Mike suddenly said, "A truck just pulled up". Always alarmed and a little bit annoyed at modern vehicles showing up unexpectedly while in the bush, I got up to take a look. Breathing a sigh of relief, I noted it was a couple wardens. Grabbing my permit, I had it on hand as the wardens approached. I don't see wardens too often, and it is always a pleasure to chat with them. These wardens were no different then any others I've met in the past. Vast knowledge and experience, make chatting with the wardens an Algonquin experience in itself to remember, especially as they never seem to tire with the endless stream of questions I manage to come up with. These guys had the patience of stone. The wardens were eyeing the guys on the south end of the lake, and pulled a canoe from their truck, put on rubber boats. PFD's, and they were off, paddling to the south site.
One measly clam was all I caught
I had a camcorder with me and taped their approach and return. The wardens were over there for quite sometime, and watching them return, I noticed they had loaded all kinds of stuff into their canoe. What was going on? did they confiscate stuff from the party there? The Wardens returned with quite a load of torn up gear. Chewed up backpacks, bubble pads, tarps, broken fishing rod, and a Live Well(Illegal in Algonquin Park). The gear was some distance in the bush behind the campsite, and the party there said that it was there when they arrived. The chewed up gear supported their claims and the wardens told me as well that the guys there had all their fishing licenses in order and they had some luck...some speckled trout! The wardens said that someone had obviously been fishing during the winter on the lake, and I've since heard the same story from other people who've tripped into the area in spring of 2005. Weather it is legal or non-legal fishing and whom by, I don't know. It has since been reported by a few people in 2005, of the bad luck with fishing in the chain of lakes here, believing them now to have been fished out.
Standing on the shore, looking out onto the lake, I could hear motorboats! Yes motorboats. Believe it or not, I could hear what I assumed was the shuttles going up and down Opeongo. It was to the east of us and consulting the map, it looked to be about 5 or 6 Km to Opeongo as the crow flies. I couldn't believe it, I could actually hear the whine of motorboats on Opeongo, but not the wardens' truck pull up. Strange. I figure the winds and atmosphere must have been just right to carry the sound over to Hiram Lake, I surmised too, that the lay of the land between the two lakes is pretty flat as well.
Handy site: Pictured here, part of the kitchen, frying pan included!
Late in the afternoon, I noticed that the guys to the south were gone. They Left! Mike was busy doing nothing by the fire(A great pastime while in The Park, I'd say!), so I decided to grab my fishing rod, and paddle over and check out the south site. It was a nice site, on a point, open to the lake, with some tall grass, yet the tenting areas were on un-even ground. The site itself was kinda small. It did not have a kitchen like ours did. Our site had a makeshift table(incomplete), though it did have a frying pan. I jumped back into my canoe and paddled along the south and west shores. Several times I got snagged on submerged logs and branches. The 3rd time, I lost the lure, and called it quits. Upon returning back to our site, I noticed a big dead fish(gutted), about 5m from the shore, laying on the bottom. Someone that was camped previously on our site had, had luck it seems. I cast the line a few meters from shore, one last time. I got something on the line, and reeled in. for my effort I was rewarded with a clam! I've heard fish stories galore but never anyone catching a clam, this was ridiculous. I packed the rod away, my frustration with fishing in The Park mounting. It would be another 16 months before I caught my first ever trout.
Sitting around the fire that night, after a tasty dinner of fire roasted Hot dogs and KD, it started to rain again. Off to our tent we went, and it continued to rain off and on all night.
Day 3
On Sunday morning, I awoke to a very stiff and ever increasingly sore back. The dampness and cold spring air coupled with the extreme length of our portaging journey to Hiram Lake, was killing me. Before I could crawl out of the tent however, I heard the sound of an animal approaching. Something hooved came upon our tent from behind, that hollow thudding sound, as something clumped along the ground. The sound paused right beside Mike's side of the tent, right where I knew there was a guy-wire. I held my breath, and then started to move. In a flash it was gone, heading back the way it came. Relief... that our tent didn't get ruined by a stampeding animal caught up in the tent lines.
A trail, possibly a spur of the Dogsled trail behind our campsite
Part of the portage leading from our site to the road
I jumped outside and looked around and headed in the direction..I found some tracks, and surmised from the tracks and the sound of the animal's movements, that it was in fact a deer that had come to our site. I kept walking, soon losing the trail and came upon the road once again. This time I walked west, away from Whitegull Lake into unknown territory. The bugs so far that weekend had not been bad at all, but soon, they were coming for me along that road. I hurried back to camp and got a fire going as I made breakfast. While eating I noticed it was another gloomy cool damp day. My back was killing me and decided then and there that I could not spend another two nights sleeping on the cold damp ground. I told Mike we were leaving and I apologized to him. This was another failure on my part. I had pushed myself too hard, and for Mike it was too tough of a trip for his first time in The Park. Mike has arthritis in his feet, and unknown to me at the time, until about halfway out, he has arthritis in the hips too. Mike tried to carry the canoe to relieve my back. No go...after only 25m or so, he put the canoe down. It was too much for him. Mike is not accustomed to carrying a canoe, that and the arthritis made it impossible to carry. As it was we were able to paddle back to Redfox Lake, thus avoiding the 710m portage. As we came onto Redfox Lake, the sun came out, and we noticed a campsite on the west shore, where on the official canoe routes map, there is no indication of a site on the lake at all.
Sat. evening: The sky became overcast and a haunted look clung to the lake
We docked a little north of the campsite sign-age, at a massive pine that was half submerged and made a perfect natural dock. The site itself, is an excellent spring or fall site. Heavily treed and protected from the lake, it has a large opening in the middle for the firepit and tenting areas, yet it was not open to the sky. There was a forest canopy above..the site was in perpetual shade. I would not want to camp here in summer though, the skeeters would eat ya alive. Leaving Redfox Lake, we slogged thru the mucky trail back up to the road that is part of the dogsled trail. Barely 10m from shore, I got stuck in the mud and came up shoeless on one foot. I stood there frozen in the mud, canoe above me and shoeless foot dangling below me. Oh no! What do I do? Well there was only one thing I could do, I carried on, once reaching firmer ground I put the canoe down and went back to retrieve my drowned shoe. It was a mucky affair to be sure, and the rest of the trip back was both painful on my back and squishy and wet on my feet. Within sight of our blessed vehicle, it started to rain. It took us just over 3 hrs to return to the car from Hiram Lake, and once the canoe was tied down and the gear stowed away, we settled back in pure comfort of the car, and drove away, sore, tired and a little disappointed. I had planned poorly for this trip. Pushing both Mike and myself too hard. This was my brother's first experience in The Park, and I should've planned a less arduous trip, not to mention the fact that I was unaware of his medical problems, which limited his physical abilities. I should not have let Mike go out in the canoe alone, even though I don't think the water was cold enough to kill, it certainly was enough to bring about hypothermia should he had taken a dunk. Relying on someone else less experienced then myself to read maps, was another mistake I made, a costly one at that too, wasted time and about a kilometer or two.
Disposible camera blues: A big frog left this picture by the time I snapped this image,
Thankfully this was the last time I ever used a throw away camera. After this trip, I purchased
a digital camera, which makes photography more fun, not to mention cheaper too!
I would like to go back to Hiram Lake someday, and eventually Whitegull, but only if I have a cart. This was a difficult trip, more portaging than paddling was involved, and to be honest that really sucks!
Planning "He-man" trips while in the grip of Cabin Fever, can be painful. 5km portage? ahh no problem.
Yes the fever distorts logic, which must take into account, weather,terrain, individual stengths and weaknesses. My poor planning, led to a shortened trip, however, as short as it was, we escaped disaster I think. As luck would have it, we got out just in time. We arrived in Huntsville around 2pm, and the mother of all thunderstorms struck. It just poured and poured, and it continued all the way down to Barrie. At times the rain was so heavy that I was blind on the highway. Reaching Barrie the storm abated, and by the time we hit Toronto, It was thundering again, all night long it thundered. Meanwhile that same night, a friend of mine, "Bo Knows", was swimming in his tent on Rock Lake. He had stayed that weekend at Rock Lake campground, got stuck in that massive storm that my brother and I chickened out on. If we had stayed another night, there's no doubt in my mind, that our experience on that trip would have been much worse than it had been. A poorly planned trip on my part, but a good call on the timing to end the trip.